Another week went by as I started to plan things in my head. I was planning out how December would look with a newborn, how Christmas would look with a newborn, how we would have to delay our big family trip to Hawaii, how I was convinced that I was having a girl, how I finally became ok with the girl name that Brent had picked out back before we had Elijah and so much more. I had started to created a mental list of new things that I wanted. Things that Elijah and I had worn out over the last almost three years and what life would look like with a baby in this house. My mind went on overdrive thinking off all these things that I had pushed out of my mind with the last miscarriage. I mean, I was already a full week past when I had had both of other miscarriages. I gave myself room to start planning more and letting more in. I was enjoying it, talking with Elijah about it and loving the fact that I would hold a new baby in December. It was going to be the perfect Christmas gift.
I woke up the morning of my doctor’s appointment. The appointment was to do an ultrasound to make sure everything was looking good to start off with and to make any plans that needed to happen. I still wasn’t bleeding! I had made it to 6 weeks. I was excited for the appointment. I was excited to see my little baby blob. I went in for the ultrasound and they couldn’t see anything. The doctor was nice and gave me a list of very normal reasons why it wouldn’t show up. My excitement and hope started to quickly dwindle. I held my composure and she walked me to get a blood test instead. I’d have to wait to hear the results and then go back two days later to get the confirmation. I checked out at the desk and couldn’t help but start to tear up as I chatted with the receptionist. I started walking back to get Elijah as I cried a little and let the hubby know what was going on. Brent and I had told a small group of people shortly after we had found out that we were pregnant to come alongside us in prayer. I filled them all in and we waited for the call.
The call came and my levels were low. They were so low they were showing up more like being pregnant for 3 weeks instead of 6 weeks. They said that if it had been more like 4 weeks, there would have been more hope, but the levels were just too low. To confirm, I had to wait another two days till I went to my next appointment. We started to pray and ask God to save the baby more than we even had before the news had come.
I brought a church friend alongside me in prayer and she took it a step further. She came over to my house and brought me so much encouragement and a book. A book that I read all the way through before getting a second call. A book that brought so much light to my babies being angel babies and in heaven with God. With scripture and the words to back up what I knew to be true, this book showed me that it was ok to grieve the loss of my babies. I had somewhat felt guilty and that it was just wrong to grieve the early pregnancies. I had let parts of what the world had to say seep into my thoughts rather than holding onto the knowledge that God created and formed each of my babies before they were even in my womb. They were fully human and fully mine even though I only knew them for a short time. The book is “I’ll hold you in heaven” by Jack Hayford. (Maybe one day I will do a post on just that to help anyone else who has struggled with the loss of a baby.) God used it to give me so much comfort despite the loss that was coming my way.
On the morning that I woke up to go to my next blood test, I had started to bleed. It was happening. I went to my appointment knowing what I would have to wait all day to hear. Knowing that I would spend the rest of my day reading the rest of that book, continuing to prepare my heart and praying to God who was the only one that could comfort me. The news came and I still cried. I had spent most of the day crying and yet, when the words finally came, there were still more tears to be found. I was losing baby #3. My third baby was making its way to heaven and I wouldn’t be able to hold it. I was frustrated again about Costa Rica, frustrated that I had started to make plans, frustrated that I had convinced myself I was having a girl, frustrated about so many things. Yet, despite it all, God was comforting me. The crying was good. The grief that I was allowing myself to experience was good. It needed to happen. I needed to let it out.
Before this miscarriage I had purchased some cards on Etsy from a lady that created them to help people going through tough times. I had purchased them in hopes that I would send them to help comfort friends. Well, they were for me during this time and I’m so thankful for God’s words on her cards. Thankful that I had a visual of his promises for me. Thankful for the reminders that he will never forsake me.
Blessed are those who mourn, for they shall be comforted. Matthew 5:4 ESV