in times of tests

We usually keep this blog fairly light and fun, but this is not one of those posts.

I’ve thought a lot about how and even if I wanted to write about this, to put it out into the world for anyone to read about and ultimately I decided that in sharing there can be healing.  In sharing my experience maybe it will help other people realize that they aren’t alone.  So here goes:

Back in March Raf and I decided that we were as ready as we were ever going to be to be parents.  We both felt that our marriage was in a really strong place and that it was time to start trying to have a family, so we ditched the contraception and had at it.  I thought it would take a while for us to conceive since there is only a 20-25% chance of conception occurring successively each month…I was wrong.  I found out I was pregnant in April.  Granted we were actively trying, I had even gotten one of those ovulation predictor kits, so I guess it shouldn’t have really been a surprise.  We were over the moon.  I immediately felt that we were a part of something bigger than ourselves.

I cried the night I saw that positive pregnancy test.  Tears of gratitude, of awe, of relief.

You see, ever since I was a little girl, my biggest fear has been that I wouldn’t be able to have children of my own.  I don’t know why I was worried about this and looking back it seems like a strange thing for a child to worry about, yet that fear has stayed with me into my adult life.

Anyway, so there we were, expecting out first child, and glowing with happiness.   We were brimming over with love for this tiny being growing inside of me.  The first time we saw our baby on the sonogram and heard the heart beat it brought tears to my eyes. I couldn’t wrap my mind around the fact that this utter miracle was taking place beneath my skin.

So close, yet so far away.

The whole time I was filled with anxiety.  I felt that somehow something wasn’t right or that something would go wrong.  When we were in Israel I worked with a woman who had a missed miscarriage and this had become my new biggest fear.  It consumed me.  Now, this was not like me at all.  I’m not normally anxiety prone or an extreme worry wort.  I’m more of a “what’s meant to happen will happen” kind of person.

Yet, the weeks ticked by and everything was going well.  I was exhausted but that was to be expected considering that not only was I pregnant but that I was also juggling being a full-time student, a 30 hour work week, a recent move and some family issues.

Just after week 12 Raf and I sent out an announcement to a few close friends and family.  Four days later, while at work, I felt some almost imperceptible cramping.  So I called Raf and told him that I was going into see my midwife.  He was home sick with a nasty cold, so I told him not to bother making the trip.

There was no fetal heart beat.  My new biggest fear had just become my reality.

I felt like the walls were closing in around me.  This could not be happening.  It wasn’t real.  It was a horrible nightmare that I couldn’t wake up from.

The hardest thing about a missed miscarriage is that, not only have you lost your baby, but now you have to make a decision about how to get your body to expel the contents of conception.  It doesn’t just happen on its own the way a normal miscarriage does.

You have to actively make a choice.

I was given thee options:  1.  To wait it out and see if my body would eventually take care of it naturally 2. Take a pill or 3. Have a D&C

I opted for the pill.  After 6 days of cramping and bleeding, I went into labor.  It lasted 4 hours and I was pushing for the last hour.  We buried the tiny body in the woods under a big tree.  We were heart-broken.  At yet, somehow I also took comfort in the fact that now my body could begin to go back to normal, to reset.

To go from such a high to such a low so quickly has literally rocked our world.

We tried to be detached.  Telling ourselves and each other that “everything happens for a reason” and that “it just wasn’t meant to be.”  But there was a void and we were having trouble filling it.  Ultimately we are still striving for detachment and little by little we are healing.  I think that it affected us in ways that we aren’t even really aware of, but we’re hopeful and optimistic about our future as parents.  When the time is right it will happen and until then, we still have school and work keeping us super busy.

I truly feel that we learned a lot from this experience and that it has brought us even closer.

A good friend of ours wrote us an email saying: “There must be a blessing in this and I’m sure now you guys have an even more special connection with the heavenly realm and this pure little soul who will still always be grateful to you for giving him/her life and a chance to have a relationship with God.  This is the best gift.”

I think about this all the time and it has really brought me a lot of comfort.

So, now you know why we’ve been so m.i.a.  I won’t make anymore promises about being better about updating this blog, because quite honestly we have a lot on our plates with school and work.  This semester is going to be hell.  I will say however, that this blog will not die.  We aren’t just going to leave and let it gather dust.  Our primary purpose in writing this blog was to keep a record of our life for our future children and we intend to continue that.

Anyway, if anyone is still out there, thanks for listening.

love,  lauren

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