1/6/17

Our Miscarriage Story

I had just sat down to my re-heated spaghetti lunch in the break room.  It was too hot to eat quite yet, but my mouth was watering.  Some guys at work had left over rolls, and I was excited thinking they would go great with the spaghetti.

My wife made it the way I like it!  Extra sauce with plenty of vegetables--mushrooms, green peppers, tomatoes, and beef.  Beef is a meat vegetable I think.  My phone rang.

--

I knew she was in the emergency room, but was secretly hoping it was appendicitis or kidney stones.  That sounds cruel, but let me explain.  We have been trying to conceive for nearly 3 years.  The day after Christmas, she was barfing.  I ate all the same things she did, and I felt fine.  With the recent addition of various vitamins and being aware of her womanly cycles, I had a feeling she was pregnant.  Out of fear, I did not speak up nor give my opinion.

In the following days, she began to bleed again.  In my heart, I thought this was implantation bleeding.  I was way too scared and nervous to speak up.  I did not want to get our hopes up just to be let down, as had been the case many times.  The signs were all there: morning sickness, implantation bleeding, the twinge's of pain on the appropriate ovary.  But I said nothing.

In fact, I was relieved when she assumed she was having her period again so soon.  I jumped on the early period bandwagon, "Your cycle is probably readjusting since you began the new vitamins and hormone cream."  I tried to force myself to really believe this.  I was still hopeful, but did not want to speak up.

After a week or so of the signs showing, she began to have intense pain.  I wrote it off as bad cramps from the new cycle starting early.  When she told me she had stopped bleeding a couple days earlier, I was afraid something was wrong, but forced myself to believe it could be anything else besides a miscarriage.

--

So there I was, plopped in front of my spaghetti when the phone rang.  I would not eat that spaghetti, nor anything else for a long time.

I could not understand what she was saying, but the sounds she was making through the phone began to shatter my heart like a ballpoint hammer on a cheap windshield.  I had to ask her to repeat it.

"I'm pregnant but they think someth...." was the second time she repeated it.  I know what she was communicating, but I couldn't grasp it.  I had her say it again, "I am pregnant."  I say she "said" it, but that is just because I don't know how to explain the way words sound when they are forced through overwhelming fear like trying to force a brick through a flour sifter--you know what is trying to happen, but it ain't working right.

I told her I was on my way.  I now felt like I was playing a video game.  I could see through my eyes, but it was like I was out of my body controlling it from afar.  I directed myself back to the table after having stood up out of shock.  I directed myself to the chair, I sat down, and brought a fork-full of spaghetti to my mouth.  It touched my tongue and I as soon as I had that faint taste of sauce, I snapped out of it, gathered my things, and was on the road toward the hospital.

The trip to the hospital took longer than it should have.  Whether it was my fear blocking my brain or the tears blocking my eyes, I kept missing turns I needed to take.  I ended up driving almost completely around town and had to circle back to get to the hospital.  I cannot quite explain what I was doing.  I did not mean to prolong it, but I was driving like I was going home.  Maybe deep down that was all I wanted... to go home, have baby Ja'Mya run to the door laughing in a cute onesie, while my wife hollered from the kitchen, "Baby! You're home!" as is often the case.

--

Later that night, I would go home to get some clothes for my overnight hospital stay.  The house seemed warm, and a couple lights were on, but no toddler rushed to greet me and no wife was making dinner and welcoming me home.  An irrational thought captured my entire body:  They are all dead.

I know that sounds extreme, but I cannot explain it.  For a few moments, I stumbled around the house like a drunk.  The walls met my body as I bumbled around murmuring, "I'm OK, I'm OK" probably a hundred times.  I knew they weren't dead, but I was afraid someone else would be dead.  Plus this would be the first night I would let Ja'Mya stay with someone else.  After our struggle with the state to make sure no one would take her away earlier this year, I was having terrible, terrible imaginings.  I eventually was able to make it back to the hospital, but not after a solid half hour of wobbly knees, shaking hands, needless trips around the house, forgetting things in different rooms, and cry-screaming.  There was a lot of cry-screaming.  Our poor cat.  She looked at me wide-eyed.  I imagine she was thinking, "He finally lost his marbles.  I better hide his slippers so he don't wallop me."

--

But as I drove into the lot of the hospital for the first time that awful day, I was repeating, "God I trust you, I promise I do, I really do," a hundred times.  "I really do trust you, God.  I promise."  He probably knew I trusted Him, but I wanted to make sure He knew.  And it helped me to say it out loud, so I wouldn't forget I trusted Him.  I continued that out-of-body-like trek into the ER.

There she was, lying on an awkward chair-bed that looked to be entirely uncomfortable.  Her eyelids swollen with visible veins.  The whites of her eyes red with bloodshot.  He face splotched from the rush of blood to her face.  Her fingers involuntarily extended straight out from the morphine doses.  Her heart monitor beeping from being her heart rate being so high as her body was on the cusp of going into shock from pain.

Her body was expelling our child, but it was not doing so without a fight.  I reckon her body knew what was happening, but her soul was fighting so hard against reality.  It did not want to let go this small, precious human.

Neither did I.

And now we were not only fighting to keep the child, we were trying to keep the body parts that make children from literally rupturing.  We were trying to keep from having surgery.  We were trying to keep my beautiful wife from having to go through any of that potentially barren-womb-making or even life-taking chaos.

While now we knew we were able to get pregnant, now we were also on a the brink of losing that possibility.  Not to mention it was a bad way to find out we were pregnant.

Later my wife would say, "This is not how I imagined us finding out.  I didn't think it would happen like this."  I explained that I thought I would look good with a mustache, but we see how that turned out.  Sometimes we just don't know how it will until it happens.  If life could always be predictable how lame that would be.

I guess I will still wait for that cup of coffee she brings to me in that DAD coffee mug she got.  That was how she always planned on telling me--with a fresh cup of joe in a mug that reads, "Dad."

--

Another nurse (there were so many) came in with blood test results to confirm what the urine analysis (originally taken to check for kidney stones and appendix issues) said: pregnant.  That word put us into an emotional mess every time we heard it those couple days.

The good news is we are able to get pregnant.  The bad news of course is this time it just did not work out.  My wife would be in the ER/OB-GYN unit for around 22 hours.  The scare of an ectopic pregnancy, the hope of wacky hCG hormone levels playing tricks on us, and the countless prayers permeated us.

Her hormone levels dropped the following morning-indicating her body was making the necessary measures to protect itself from a now physically dead, 4-5 week old baby.  I say physically dead because we believe God makes life at conception, and to be absent from the body is to be present with the Lord.  That is quite literally gospel truth.

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So now, this is where the biblical rubber meets the road.  Do we believe God is still good AND sovereign?  Or will we search for some un-biblical rationale like it was a glob of tissue, or we did not have enough faith or sow the right financial seeds, or God is mad at us, or the universe has no purpose and meaning.

Nah, ain't nobody got time fo' dat.

We have found comfort in that God is intimately in charge of all the details of our lives, and that all things were and are created for His glory.  We exist for His purpose, and our child was conceived for His purpose, will and pleasure.  We find true joy, hope, and peace in knowing that.  The child was created for Him, not us, and if He ordained that baby, and He loves that baby, we do not grieve as those who have no hope, but we do grieve.  We just grieve with hope.
1 Thessalonians 4:13-18
But we do not want you to be uninformed, brothers, about those who are asleep, that you may not grieve as others do who have no hope. For since we believe that Jesus died and rose again, even so, through Jesus, God will bring with him those who have fallen asleep. For this we declare to you by a word from the Lord, that we who are alive, who are left until the coming of the Lord, will not precede those who have fallen asleep.For the Lord himself will descend from heaven with a cry of command, with the voice of an archangel, and with the sound of the trumpet of God. And the dead in Christ will rise first. Then we who are alive, who are left, will be caught up together with them in the clouds to meet the Lord in the air, and so we will always be with the Lord. Therefore encourage one another with these words.
Romans 5:1-5
Therefore, since we have been justified by faith, we have peace with God through our Lord Jesus Christ. Through him we have also obtained access by faith into this grace in which we stand, and we rejoice in hope of the glory of God. Not only that, but we rejoice in our sufferings, knowing that suffering produces endurance, and endurance produces character, and character produces hope, and hope does not put us to shame, because God's love has been poured into our hearts through the Holy Spirit who has been given to us.

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