I think a lot of folks were disappointed in the Gilmore Girls revival because nothing happened with the character development in the main two characters. And while, yes this was true. On the other hand it was almost fitting, there was never a strong undercurrent in the value of relationship. Instead there was a lot of use of another person instead of seeing them as human. I've been thinking about relationships a lot lately, and its hard to live them. Sometimes you have to step away and sometimes you really have to step outside your comfort zone to grow.
Currently in a main relationship of mine I've had to step away from it, I haven't figured out how to have this relationship and not be in constant pain from it. Its a complicated one and while I wish it was better its not and its hard and feels so slow in how it is to be made better. But I guess this is one way that I feel as if I differ from Rory or Lorelai, though a lot of times I feel like Lorelai and relate more to her than Rory any day. But the thing is that I am trying to make progress in my own self, because I know now there is no way that I can change the situation at hand except to do that, but progress is slow.
One thing I liked in watching Seasons was that at the very end it did feel like Lorelai and her mother were in a better place, something I hope for myself someday with my relationship I had to step away from currently. In the end of season 7 of the original series, it felt like Lorelai was able to understand and relate better to her dad, but it wasn't until the end of this series that I felt she was able to speak to her mom and not feel like she had to defend herself. A lot of times Lorelai is stuck as her 16 year old self in her maturity because, well, something traumatic did happen to her then and psychologically that does happen a lot to people. And honestly that does bug me at times. It feels like she's never really dealt with her issues and carries them everywhere. But a lot of us do this. I know we want to say we don't, but there are definitely times when we do, especially if we don't recognize that we are doing so because a lot of other things are going well.
That is why to me, I was okay with Lorelai being where she was, I mean her lifestyle and values are different than mine, me being a practicing Catholic, her being an agnostic perhaps. But I think the humanity seen in her and that things sometimes take time to make progress, I think I liked that bit. And not that the writers were trying to accomplish this at all, but to me it was a reminder to trust in the slow work of God, or at least what seems slow to us in this world were we can get anything material we want in a snipet of time for the right price. But don't let me start on Rory, she is a whole different kind of non progress brought to you by many things I haven't had the fortunate "privilege" like her to become so.
Sunday, November 27, 2016
Sunday, September 25, 2016
And what comes next
As I sit here a little over 15 weeks pregnant, I feel like I should tell the story of that. Well not the actual story, but just what life has been in this state.
You see this baby surprised me. I hadn't gotten a normal cycle back yet and well in my thinking I was still heavily grieving and there wasn't any way that I could be pregnant again so fast. My last miscarriage took the better part of 6 months for my body to recover from and silly me thought this one was going to be longer, but apparently this isn't the case and well, God had different plans for me. So two months after miscarrying little Noel, I found myself surprise pregnant. And honestly I wondered if it was just hormones playing with me, so I took more than one pregnancy test on different days, because I honestly just didn't feel ready and I was a bit mad and more so scared out of my mind. I couldn't bare another loss. I just was shocked a bit too.
A few days after finding out, my grandmother (my dad's mom) died, and it was not pretty. I was mad at myself for not calling her back ever after losing Noel. I had gotten her a card but never sent it. I was scared about having to see my family at such a vulnerable time. So I went and I hid and didn't really talk to anyone, because I couldn't and to me that had to be okay. That was all I could do. But knowing I was pregnant I was already hoping for a girl, someone I could name after my dear grandmother. She really was the only grandparent that I ever knew in a deeper level, and I just wanted to do something in her memory.
I came back to my life from that trip and I just wanted to hide, hide and hide. I wasn't ready for this pregnancy overall and I sure wasn't ready to discuss it with every passing person. And granted being pregnant was way more obvious to me than to the outside world, I felt like I didn't want to be seen as there was a chance someone would know. My body on the other hand knew it was pregnant and didn't let me forget with extreme heartburn and carpal tunnel and racing heart and varicose veins and exhaustion. And because I was where I was in grieving and in pregnancy it was hard to tell what was from what. My husband has been a trooper thru this all and has helped me when I needed help and has done more than his share of late night runs for food cravings and comforting during cry sessions over life.
Being pregnant post loss is scary, especially a loss that was later than any other loss before because you realize how much you are not in control of any outcome. That you just have to take a day at a time because God is the only one with a say in how long we get with our kids. And this is so very hard to do, because we hope for the best. We imagine the future of holding a baby and yet you know maybe that's not going to happen. Instead you may only get to know them through photos or kicks or just a glimpse of a positive pregnancy test. And it is so very hard and I don't wish it on anyone. I had a first trimester full of intense anxiety and parts of it have lingered. I hate waking up in the middle of the night because I can have flashbacks of going to the bathroom and finding I had bled so badly and was miscarrying. They are less now at 15 weeks then they were at before the same chronological time of my last loss, but its this eerie reminder that it happened and I would have hoped for a different outcome but now I'm here.
And that day and night have come and went in this pregnancy and it ended up low key and not dramatic at all those few days, and I am so very thankful for that. So maybe I will get to hold a baby at the end of this pregnancy, and I pray and hope for that, but if that's not the plan, well I'm trying to remember I'm still in God's hands. One of the reassuring things that God has done for me when I so very needed it is when I was in the church and closed my eyes, I saw this image of Him carrying me in his arms like a sleeping child. Something I so very needed. Because I felt like the only thing I really was keeping on with was God's grace and it just felt like a perfect reminder to me of that. So on those hard days I remember this and pray for me to recognize his grace, and somehow I have pulled through each time so far.
So I'm here now at 15 weeks 1 day and praying to feel a baby kicking in the next few weeks. I'm still apprehensive a bit, but becoming more and more excited. Some days, I still want to hide, but its less of that and more of okay I'm here now, and God thinks I can do this, so help me God to see that I can do this.
Thank-you for listening to my story.
You see this baby surprised me. I hadn't gotten a normal cycle back yet and well in my thinking I was still heavily grieving and there wasn't any way that I could be pregnant again so fast. My last miscarriage took the better part of 6 months for my body to recover from and silly me thought this one was going to be longer, but apparently this isn't the case and well, God had different plans for me. So two months after miscarrying little Noel, I found myself surprise pregnant. And honestly I wondered if it was just hormones playing with me, so I took more than one pregnancy test on different days, because I honestly just didn't feel ready and I was a bit mad and more so scared out of my mind. I couldn't bare another loss. I just was shocked a bit too.
A few days after finding out, my grandmother (my dad's mom) died, and it was not pretty. I was mad at myself for not calling her back ever after losing Noel. I had gotten her a card but never sent it. I was scared about having to see my family at such a vulnerable time. So I went and I hid and didn't really talk to anyone, because I couldn't and to me that had to be okay. That was all I could do. But knowing I was pregnant I was already hoping for a girl, someone I could name after my dear grandmother. She really was the only grandparent that I ever knew in a deeper level, and I just wanted to do something in her memory.
I came back to my life from that trip and I just wanted to hide, hide and hide. I wasn't ready for this pregnancy overall and I sure wasn't ready to discuss it with every passing person. And granted being pregnant was way more obvious to me than to the outside world, I felt like I didn't want to be seen as there was a chance someone would know. My body on the other hand knew it was pregnant and didn't let me forget with extreme heartburn and carpal tunnel and racing heart and varicose veins and exhaustion. And because I was where I was in grieving and in pregnancy it was hard to tell what was from what. My husband has been a trooper thru this all and has helped me when I needed help and has done more than his share of late night runs for food cravings and comforting during cry sessions over life.
Being pregnant post loss is scary, especially a loss that was later than any other loss before because you realize how much you are not in control of any outcome. That you just have to take a day at a time because God is the only one with a say in how long we get with our kids. And this is so very hard to do, because we hope for the best. We imagine the future of holding a baby and yet you know maybe that's not going to happen. Instead you may only get to know them through photos or kicks or just a glimpse of a positive pregnancy test. And it is so very hard and I don't wish it on anyone. I had a first trimester full of intense anxiety and parts of it have lingered. I hate waking up in the middle of the night because I can have flashbacks of going to the bathroom and finding I had bled so badly and was miscarrying. They are less now at 15 weeks then they were at before the same chronological time of my last loss, but its this eerie reminder that it happened and I would have hoped for a different outcome but now I'm here.
And that day and night have come and went in this pregnancy and it ended up low key and not dramatic at all those few days, and I am so very thankful for that. So maybe I will get to hold a baby at the end of this pregnancy, and I pray and hope for that, but if that's not the plan, well I'm trying to remember I'm still in God's hands. One of the reassuring things that God has done for me when I so very needed it is when I was in the church and closed my eyes, I saw this image of Him carrying me in his arms like a sleeping child. Something I so very needed. Because I felt like the only thing I really was keeping on with was God's grace and it just felt like a perfect reminder to me of that. So on those hard days I remember this and pray for me to recognize his grace, and somehow I have pulled through each time so far.
So I'm here now at 15 weeks 1 day and praying to feel a baby kicking in the next few weeks. I'm still apprehensive a bit, but becoming more and more excited. Some days, I still want to hide, but its less of that and more of okay I'm here now, and God thinks I can do this, so help me God to see that I can do this.
Thank-you for listening to my story.
Monday, September 5, 2016
Joy in the child
As Mother Teresa was canonized yesterday, the quote of hers that came to mind was the following:
“How can there be too many children? That is like saying there are too many flowers.” -St. Mother Teresa
I have always loved this quote, but struggled with it too. However, there is truth here, and I am learning to live it daily.
When I was pregnant with Noel, I struggled so much with what others might think of a fourth child. I know I shouldn't have let it bug me, but I did. There were some people that I still let into influence my thinking at the time that weren't positive about another child. And in fact sometimes weren't really positive about the ones I already had. Honestly, this type of thinking stemmed way back to 10 years ago when I was engaged to my now husband, and I'm sure even before. You see, I let in counsel to someone I trusted, and the one objection to me converting to Catholicism along with marrying my husband was that, "those Catholics, they just have so many children." I didn't have the background that celebrated children as always being a gift, instead they were financial burdens or things to fit in to a narcissistic life.
But Noel, despite my internal battle was a gift, a true gift in so many ways. I remember the time I told my students about him and just the absolute joy they had in celebrating a new life was amazing. I don't think I'll ever forget that day because honestly, I don't think I've ever experienced that much joy from someone else about something/someone in my life. It really was eye opening.
And then as I sometimes struggle with my kids and their well, being kid like, I was upset about something that my one son did in the presence of another teacher. Later talking with that teacher he recanted it in a positive manner, one which again celebrated the life the gift that the child was instead of a sum of his faults.
Recently, a dear friend kept witnessing my crying so much at church this past summer, because for some reason the Holy Spirit just brings the tears there, the much needed tears. She gave me a note and a dear little painted heart shaped rock, with the words "Jesus wept". Oh so appropriate words they were and are. My friend remembered my dear little baby, this baby that only was with us for so long. My friend didn't judge one bit about timing or family size, but loved and saw that I loved, and for this I am so grateful.
You see, I think to this point I didn't think that there really was a place where every life could be really celebrated in its entirety. I was broken and couldn't see it, I couldn't see it in the people around me, I instead always felt judged or judged myself. I think its odd to say that death has brought an understanding of joy, but yet somehow I think it is so for me. I think seeing people have authentic joy over life has been one of many lessons little Noel has fruitfully taught me. And in that joy, I feel like I can finally understand more about gratitude. And while I know there is thanks in the suffering, I think the thanks in the joy, this, this has been missing for me, and I am so very grateful to be learning this now.
There is more, but I will save that for another time.
Thursday, June 2, 2016
Fitting
I was driving home from visiting a friend today with the kids when I saw the cemetery and decided that I needed to visit. I was supposed to visit yesterday but didn't. So at the last moment I got off at the exit and went. There was a new monument right in front of Noel's grave, a crucifix, and no it wasn't for Noel. I honestly don't know the reason its there yet, but it seemed fitting. I went today and cried yet again, and none of the kids wanted to visit today so I left the hang out by the car. But it was good to be there alone, even if my attention was divided.
You see there are little things, little moments that sometimes give me glimpses of grace and other times they are bits of sufferings. Both, well both share in Jesus, and thats grief journey I'm on, both part of my cross as I was reminded today on my visit.
My oldest in his 6 year old grief has basically uttered one sentiment for his lost sibling. He didn't get to know what he liked. And if I sit with this for a minute, I tear up, because in his limited understanding of life and death, he understands so much. It is sad that we didn't get to know him, and while I am glad to have an intercessor in heaven, I am sad about not knowing him too.
A few weeks ago a friend and I were able to have dinner and chat and she theorized that maybe so many Catholics end up with miscarriages because they need intercessors to help them get through this life as a Catholic. A while I'm not sure about the theology of it all, I do know that I do have two intercessors in heaven now, and as I thought about it today, I realized just how hard it really is at times and how much of a grace it is to have people in heaven praying for our family.
Because I had traveled this road before, I struggled with knowing that I had to go through all that losing a child entails yet again. At times it seems harder, but other times, its odd and it feels like maybe its a grace pause. Like for so long I have been working on either being working towards something or being afraid of a new life coming too soon, that this time where I know I can't do anything about it, I get to step back and see what's in front of me in a new light.
So whether it be that I am reminded of losing Noel through my hair falling out or other effects of my hormones, I'm thankful that I got to know him and love him for as long as I did. I already think he's interceding and making me stronger and for that I'm thankful.
You see there are little things, little moments that sometimes give me glimpses of grace and other times they are bits of sufferings. Both, well both share in Jesus, and thats grief journey I'm on, both part of my cross as I was reminded today on my visit.
My oldest in his 6 year old grief has basically uttered one sentiment for his lost sibling. He didn't get to know what he liked. And if I sit with this for a minute, I tear up, because in his limited understanding of life and death, he understands so much. It is sad that we didn't get to know him, and while I am glad to have an intercessor in heaven, I am sad about not knowing him too.
A few weeks ago a friend and I were able to have dinner and chat and she theorized that maybe so many Catholics end up with miscarriages because they need intercessors to help them get through this life as a Catholic. A while I'm not sure about the theology of it all, I do know that I do have two intercessors in heaven now, and as I thought about it today, I realized just how hard it really is at times and how much of a grace it is to have people in heaven praying for our family.
Because I had traveled this road before, I struggled with knowing that I had to go through all that losing a child entails yet again. At times it seems harder, but other times, its odd and it feels like maybe its a grace pause. Like for so long I have been working on either being working towards something or being afraid of a new life coming too soon, that this time where I know I can't do anything about it, I get to step back and see what's in front of me in a new light.
So whether it be that I am reminded of losing Noel through my hair falling out or other effects of my hormones, I'm thankful that I got to know him and love him for as long as I did. I already think he's interceding and making me stronger and for that I'm thankful.
Thursday, May 26, 2016
Two weeks later
I'm still sad. I still don't get to bring a live baby home, but life has returned to its normal amount of chaos at least for the children. Driving is hard if I'm by myself, because by myself, I think and I sob.
This week we got the pathology report and learned it was a placenta separation issue, and that sent me spiraling for a bit. I want to say that I won't have this fear of a repeat next time around if there is a next time but I know somewhere it will be there.
Some things that are different now, heat doesn't bother me like it would if I was pregnant. I get to teach a full class of chemistry next fall. I may consider starting Ephraim with kindergarten this year since he's a borderline birthday and he's interested anyway. I don't feel pressured by myself to give up nursing the toddler. She nurses minimally, but somehow that is comforting. Someone is still growing by me.
I think that this tragedy is helping me to figure out boundaries a bit more. I realize I'm vulnerable and I need to turn off the people who could hurt me right now. The people that think I need to be all better now or not be sad, the people that need to explain instead of just sitting and listening or just being there.
I'm thankful for this greater sense of church that has come about in this whole experience. As a convert who came with a lot of baggage, this sense that people can actually be there for you is amazing. The fact that people actually care about you and pray for you and send you cards and meals and will take your kids for the day because you can't figure out life, its just really good. It makes the hurt and loss just a little more bearable. Thank-you all.
And lastly, I think because this whole experience brings up all the feelings from 7 years ago when I lost my first baby who we named Edmund where I miscarried in a stadium bathroom. I'm thankful that I have a place to go visit Noel and be still. I need that. There's a lot of chaos in my mind still but going there helps me to know that God is watching out for me and for my little family.
So I sift and I wait and I pray to trust in the slow work of God, because that is what is going to get me through.
This week we got the pathology report and learned it was a placenta separation issue, and that sent me spiraling for a bit. I want to say that I won't have this fear of a repeat next time around if there is a next time but I know somewhere it will be there.
Some things that are different now, heat doesn't bother me like it would if I was pregnant. I get to teach a full class of chemistry next fall. I may consider starting Ephraim with kindergarten this year since he's a borderline birthday and he's interested anyway. I don't feel pressured by myself to give up nursing the toddler. She nurses minimally, but somehow that is comforting. Someone is still growing by me.
I think that this tragedy is helping me to figure out boundaries a bit more. I realize I'm vulnerable and I need to turn off the people who could hurt me right now. The people that think I need to be all better now or not be sad, the people that need to explain instead of just sitting and listening or just being there.
I'm thankful for this greater sense of church that has come about in this whole experience. As a convert who came with a lot of baggage, this sense that people can actually be there for you is amazing. The fact that people actually care about you and pray for you and send you cards and meals and will take your kids for the day because you can't figure out life, its just really good. It makes the hurt and loss just a little more bearable. Thank-you all.
And lastly, I think because this whole experience brings up all the feelings from 7 years ago when I lost my first baby who we named Edmund where I miscarried in a stadium bathroom. I'm thankful that I have a place to go visit Noel and be still. I need that. There's a lot of chaos in my mind still but going there helps me to know that God is watching out for me and for my little family.
So I sift and I wait and I pray to trust in the slow work of God, because that is what is going to get me through.
Sunday, May 15, 2016
Bury the dead
I definitely didn't think I would be doing this particular act of mercy in this year of mercy, to bury the dead. And yet somehow I am. And maybe, maybe this feels like a bit, because well it was just a little baby, not more than 3-4 inches long. Just a little over 13 weeks along when he was delivered. I delivered him and saw him, this little tiny person, so beautiful so st peace, so unaware of the turmoil constantly inside his mama's head. So, this what I need to do, what our family needs to do. Because this little one, even though so little was already so loved. And I can't imagine it any other way. Tomorrow, we bury him. We named him Noel. Our little Noel Kurak, we love you so much.
St. Noel Chabanel was man that struggled with so many things as an early settler to North America. He couldn't handle the new environment very well, and yet he knew he was there, and he didn't know if his circumstances would change any time soon, so he decided to follow the will of God anyway, even though it was tough. Oddly he said this and then was martyred the next day, but he didn't know that was going to happen.
Somehow this reminds me of our little saint now in heaven. Because for a long time on the inside I was grappling with this pregnancy, some things were said to me that were like a knife in my heart, and so I wasn't wanting to shout with joy that I was carrying new life, and so I kept coming back to this Saint, because he was in tough times but saw God's greater hand at work. I'm not sure I ever really came to grips with everything 100% before tragedy struck, but I think that's gotta be okay. It's where I was at, God was there with me in my struggle. And maybe that's what I need to see in this overall, in this loss of a life that I never get to see grow up. God is here, even if I don't understand it. Even if its painful and sad and is long and is going to take a lot of time to heal, he is here. And because he is here, I can do his will.
And so tomorrow we bury our son, so little, so loved, so precious to us. I don't want to be doing this, I want to still be growing a baby, but this is God's will for me, for our family, and I am going to find him in the sadness of it all.
St. Noel Chabanel was man that struggled with so many things as an early settler to North America. He couldn't handle the new environment very well, and yet he knew he was there, and he didn't know if his circumstances would change any time soon, so he decided to follow the will of God anyway, even though it was tough. Oddly he said this and then was martyred the next day, but he didn't know that was going to happen.
Somehow this reminds me of our little saint now in heaven. Because for a long time on the inside I was grappling with this pregnancy, some things were said to me that were like a knife in my heart, and so I wasn't wanting to shout with joy that I was carrying new life, and so I kept coming back to this Saint, because he was in tough times but saw God's greater hand at work. I'm not sure I ever really came to grips with everything 100% before tragedy struck, but I think that's gotta be okay. It's where I was at, God was there with me in my struggle. And maybe that's what I need to see in this overall, in this loss of a life that I never get to see grow up. God is here, even if I don't understand it. Even if its painful and sad and is long and is going to take a lot of time to heal, he is here. And because he is here, I can do his will.
And so tomorrow we bury our son, so little, so loved, so precious to us. I don't want to be doing this, I want to still be growing a baby, but this is God's will for me, for our family, and I am going to find him in the sadness of it all.
Friday, May 13, 2016
Sadness part 1
I think to say I'm sad feels just not enough. There's this whole sense of vulnerability and rawness and its just so very hard. I don't think I even want to put a name with it, but just to know its there.
This year was already hard enough, Helena was diagnosed with an extra membrane near one of her aorta heart valves and just coming to terms with that was enough. You see the week I found out I was pregnant was the same week I also had to bear the heaviness of my kid maybe not being okay. There was a lot of emotion, happy and sad.
And then this week happened. I was not warned by anything. I was nearing 13 weeks and I was just beginning to tell people about a baby coming. I was thinking it was okay to do that and not have to untell everyone just a few days later. I thought I was going to meet my fourth live baby healthy and happy come this November.
I woke up on Tuesday night with blood soaked underwear, but felt nothing, there was no warning sign of anything being wrong. Yes Monday had been a rough day, but we all have those. Last time I miscarried it started with a little trickle and then got worse. This time wasn't like that. I felt fine and pregnant going to bed but that changed. I don't even know how to write the next part, except to say that there was sadness and flashbacks and me calling a friend, and Keith calling the midwife. She was so calm and said if I wasn't in any pain I could wait till morning to get checked out.
I cried a lot that night, I texted friends who I thought would listen. One happened to be up in the middle of the night and was kind and listened. I couldn't talk, but I wrote. I cancelled appointments and called off work because at least one thing had changed, and unlike last time where I tried to go on and ignore everything, I knew that I couldn't this time. So I didn't.
I called the midwife, and for a bit because of how the bleeding was she wasn't convinced it was a miscarriage, but she thought at the very least I needed to go in and see an OB to get Rhogam due to my Rh negative blood and having a significant blood loss and hopefully he would give us good news with a ultrasound. So as soon as his office opened I called and I got a standing appointment for that afternoon with knowing that we would be waiting since we were last minute.
There was a lot of not knowing what to do with myself. A friend came over and brought food with her knowing I probably didn't eat and she was right, I didn't. Food never appeals to me when life is rough. She sat with my while her kids played with my kids, it was nice. And then another friend just happened to be in the area that day and said she would come over to babysit the kids when we needed to go to our appointment, she didn't have anything pressing and just wanted to help.
And you guys, that's the one thing that I feel that God was there. Because lately, when I'm struggling, I remind myself that God is there in that moment. That I'm not alone, and at this moment I could feel God's presence in the way that people were willing to come and help and be there for us.
So we went to the appointment, and it was a bit of a drive to this particular doctor, and the one thing that kept coming to my mind was that I couldn't will this away. That no matter what, the outcome would be the outcome and while I was hoping that it was just a bleed from the placenta lifting, I had no idea what we would find out.
The OB came in and he was really kind and funny, and oddly he brought in two med students with him that day too, and at this point I've come to not care about those things, but I'm sure it was awkward for them, since I would think for the most part they haven't experienced the ups and downs of being in the field yet. But the doctor, he was really nice and just had a comforting presence.
As soon as he did the ultrasound, he was sad to say that he didn't have good news. He instead had to tell us our baby died and it looked like it died a few days before. There was no heartbeat and it had stopped growing. Even though at this point my heart already had some sadness, at this point my heart offiically broke.
This year was already hard enough, Helena was diagnosed with an extra membrane near one of her aorta heart valves and just coming to terms with that was enough. You see the week I found out I was pregnant was the same week I also had to bear the heaviness of my kid maybe not being okay. There was a lot of emotion, happy and sad.
And then this week happened. I was not warned by anything. I was nearing 13 weeks and I was just beginning to tell people about a baby coming. I was thinking it was okay to do that and not have to untell everyone just a few days later. I thought I was going to meet my fourth live baby healthy and happy come this November.
I woke up on Tuesday night with blood soaked underwear, but felt nothing, there was no warning sign of anything being wrong. Yes Monday had been a rough day, but we all have those. Last time I miscarried it started with a little trickle and then got worse. This time wasn't like that. I felt fine and pregnant going to bed but that changed. I don't even know how to write the next part, except to say that there was sadness and flashbacks and me calling a friend, and Keith calling the midwife. She was so calm and said if I wasn't in any pain I could wait till morning to get checked out.
I cried a lot that night, I texted friends who I thought would listen. One happened to be up in the middle of the night and was kind and listened. I couldn't talk, but I wrote. I cancelled appointments and called off work because at least one thing had changed, and unlike last time where I tried to go on and ignore everything, I knew that I couldn't this time. So I didn't.
I called the midwife, and for a bit because of how the bleeding was she wasn't convinced it was a miscarriage, but she thought at the very least I needed to go in and see an OB to get Rhogam due to my Rh negative blood and having a significant blood loss and hopefully he would give us good news with a ultrasound. So as soon as his office opened I called and I got a standing appointment for that afternoon with knowing that we would be waiting since we were last minute.
There was a lot of not knowing what to do with myself. A friend came over and brought food with her knowing I probably didn't eat and she was right, I didn't. Food never appeals to me when life is rough. She sat with my while her kids played with my kids, it was nice. And then another friend just happened to be in the area that day and said she would come over to babysit the kids when we needed to go to our appointment, she didn't have anything pressing and just wanted to help.
And you guys, that's the one thing that I feel that God was there. Because lately, when I'm struggling, I remind myself that God is there in that moment. That I'm not alone, and at this moment I could feel God's presence in the way that people were willing to come and help and be there for us.
So we went to the appointment, and it was a bit of a drive to this particular doctor, and the one thing that kept coming to my mind was that I couldn't will this away. That no matter what, the outcome would be the outcome and while I was hoping that it was just a bleed from the placenta lifting, I had no idea what we would find out.
The OB came in and he was really kind and funny, and oddly he brought in two med students with him that day too, and at this point I've come to not care about those things, but I'm sure it was awkward for them, since I would think for the most part they haven't experienced the ups and downs of being in the field yet. But the doctor, he was really nice and just had a comforting presence.
As soon as he did the ultrasound, he was sad to say that he didn't have good news. He instead had to tell us our baby died and it looked like it died a few days before. There was no heartbeat and it had stopped growing. Even though at this point my heart already had some sadness, at this point my heart offiically broke.
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