Mourning Begins….
The morning began with my usual preggo trip to the bathroom with organs pushing on my bladder. My calendar was anxiously awaiting me to cross out my post to write on my pregnancy announcement. I had planned the pictures I wanted to take and the words I wanted to say. I had posted a picture on Instagram the day before too excited to wait. The sun came up and everything was beautiful…until I noticed something different. Something I wasn’t expecting.
My husband left for work and I sat and waited for the clock to turn to 9:00 so I could call my midwife’s office. 9:01 and I said to the receptionist, “This is Virginia and I think I’m having a miscarriage.” I think the only word she heard was “this” and the sobs broke up the rest.
As I cried the early morning minutes away my daughter came up to me and asked, “Mommy, what’s wrong?”
For a few days she had overheard conversations about the new baby coming and knew there was a baby in my belly. She was excited and already named “her” the same as her dolly.
I sucked up and replied with a whimper, “Honey, Mommy’s just sad right now. I’m o.k.”
“Why are you crying?” she asked with such sincerity it was like God was ministering to me through my nearly 4 year old.
“You know the baby in mommy’s belly. “She” got sick and is with Jesus now.”
“Oh….she’s with Great Grandma now. Great Grandma is rocking her then.”
“Yes, yes she is. Jesus and Great Grandma are taking care of her.”
Tears. Smiles. Peace.
The ride in the car with my kiddos to the hospital to get blood drawn was a blur. The drive was no different than any other day to Eliana and Micah. The destination of the hospital was an adventure to them. The new place, new people and objects just like the items in their doctor kit fascinated them. On the way down the hall to the lab they entertained me. Every moment I thanked God for them. My sweet little ones were keeping me from curling up in a ball of tears.
After the blood draw I had a friend that could watch them across town next to my midwife’s office. Walking in she just hugged me and prayed. Without many words she handed me a sheet of paper with today’s devotion on it from “Jesus Calling”. Words I think were written for me. For this day.
Grateful to have my kids somewhere else I checked in and sat in a chair in the waiting room. Across from me sat a pregnant woman. I wanted to smile and share a knowing glance and congratulatory waves but I couldn’t. I had to turn away and wipe tears from my eyes. I stared at the window until she was called into the back room. A sigh of relief came and I felt free to look about the room for anything that would distract me. Magazines cover the shelves all about babies and pregnancy. I start to feel tears coming. I turned my eyes to an entire wall blanketed in thank you notes and baby announcements and lost it.
Within minutes (that seemed like hours) it was time for me to go back with the nurse. She has seen me through my two previous births and I am relieved to see her. The kindness shown to me as I lay through exams and explanations of what may have happened eased the pain. All I could think about was what was supposed to be a time of joy and excitement was now amemory forever etched in my heart of pain. Pain I hear may slowly subside but today cannot imagine.
I am grieving.
I know that God is here. I know that He cares. I know that I am blessed to have 2 kids. I know that the tiny baby the size of a grape is in heaven. The truths are in my head and heart, but I still need to cry. I still need to mourn.
When you see me, please don’t ask me how I’m doing. You can give me a smile or a hug, but I am afraid I may break down in public. Know that I’m not stuffing it inside, but am working through things with God and my family. I will be o.k. & all of you pregnant ladies, I really am excited for you. I may be sewing some things just for you.
Thank you for your prayers and support. Please pray for everyone that has a baby in their belly or has lost one.
I’ll share more tomorrow. Thank you for letting me “get this out” and share with you as part of my “therapy”. It’s my journal I feel that maybe can encourage someone else. We’re not alone.