So… this last Thursday I found out I was having a miscarriage. I had been 5 weeks pregnant – which of course, isn’t that long, but maybe because this baby was so wanted, so planned for, it felt longer. The whole ordeal was quite horrifying – I knew women who had had one (or even multiple), my own mother had one before she conceived me – but no one prepares you for the pain (physically), and the shock and horror. I knew instinctively right away what was happening.
I called the doctor I’d chosen… my first baby appointment was going to be this Tuesday (I hadn’t even made it yet to the first appointment to hear the heartbeat). The office appointment coordinator was so kind and sympathetic, but honest, she explained to me that I was “losing the baby,” and that “there’s nothing we can do right now.” She got me in with the doctor within the next hour & a half.
In the doctor’s office, I sat calm and collected – feeling anything but that on the inside. I felt such a mixture of emotions… anxiety, sadness, nausea, and general shock. I was the only one in the waiting room, until a woman and her daughter walked in. The daughter was the patient. She was 17 and looked so young… and scared. I thought about how life is just ironic. Here I was, married with a beautiful boy, closing in on 30, a college graduate that has already had my first professional job, losing the baby that was planned and wanted, & there was the teen with her tired and frustrated looking mom, filling out the necessary paperwork for her daughter. I’m amazed I didn’t envy her! I’m not an envious person anyway, but if there was ever a time for bitterness or envy, certainly I wouldn’t have passed that test – but I did!
She looked so young… and so scared, I only felt sorry for her. And while she would probably keep her baby and have her angry but supportive mom, she didn’t have my 10 extra years on her, or my loving supportive husband. But the irony of us both being in the waiting room was there. A few times I found myself wishing we could somehow switch – that if she didn’t want or didn’t feel ready for her baby, that they could somehow implant it inside my womb (lol), and she could be a free 17 year old girl again. Those were just fantasy and wishful thoughts… they weren’t meant to be taken seriously but to play into my overactive imagination.
Throughout the whole ordeal, I was never angry at God… I wept often that day… in the morning before the appointment, I prayed and cried – but what I prayed was not a pray to save the baby, but to accept and praise God even in the midst of it. He knows best – I trust Him without reserve! Through many things happening in my life, I’ve seen His perfect hand work things out for the best. It amazes even me that I handled it well in that regard.
So these past few days have been filled with thinking, talking to family about it, spending time with family, mourning during the day. Today is when I’ve promised to myself (and to my husband) that everything goes back to normal, I have so much to do and a son to take care of! Life goes on, and there are times when people need you to be ok already, even if it is before you’re technically ready – is anyone ever really ready?
On a lighter note, I’ve found the most hilarious internet cat cartoons and have watched them with my son during this time… Warning: Simon’s Cat is addicting 🙂
And my husband has cooked some awesome food this weekend – he works so much now, he never gets to cook – but he seriously made the best burgers this weekend & some stuffed S’mores pancakes Sunday morning. Yes, pancakes with marshmellows and chocolate inside! Delicious.
Some quotes I’ve thought of during this time: