God’s Not Done With Our Story Yet

This was not the post I had planned for today nor was it one that I wanted to write. I’ve been putting it off honestly. I had exciting posts, announcement posts, and this one isn’t that anymore. Today was supposed to be my “I’m pregnant” post. I’ll go through more details at a later date but I’m at a point where I’m ready to share this part now. 

Something I never thought I would say out loud much less when talking about myself: miscarriage 

That’s right. We did IVF and our first transfer worked. Our due date was April 2022. (Again, I’ll share details later of all of that because it was such an exciting part of this for us)

All my weekly appointments to see the baby/heartbeat and blood work were perfect. We even have a sonogram of our baby’s little hand waving at us. We always said he/she was telling us, “Hey mom and dad. Don’t worry I’m okay in here!” Until it wasn’t. 

It was time to graduate from my fertility doctor and see a regular OB. September 27, we were going to officially feel more like a “regular” pregnancy and not an IVF one. Jason almost didn’t come to this one because we felt so good about this pregnancy and baby but decided last minute to come with me after I said, “it’s okay if you don’t go but would you be upset if we got to HEAR the heartbeat this time instead of just seeing it?” We were so excited but as soon as we were pulled back for a sonogram, that excited feeling went completely away. Baby wasn’t measuring what it should by a week and I didn’t see that little flutter. I looked at Jason and said “I don’t feel good about this appointment.” Our new OB came in to tell us there was no heartbeat. It broke my heart when Jason looked at her and said, “I’m sorry for asking but I need to, are you sure? Can we check again?” She said we could come back or look again but ultimately with it not measuring on track and inability to find the heartbeat, it was pretty final. And because I was 11 weeks, a D&C was the best option but I could still do it on my own or assisted with medicine at home. 

I declined doing it at home. I just don’t know that I’d be able to handle it so our doctor rearranged her schedule before going out of town so we could move forward with the D&C the next day. Worst two days of my life. Ever.

We checked in at 10am and didn’t leave until after 7pm. I lost a lot of blood in surgery (thankfully the doctor decided I was okay “for now” and didn’t need a transfusion), my blood pressure took forever to get above 70/50 so I sat in recovery for several hours. I had an angel of a nurse take care of me. One that had just gone through a miscarriage a month before me (also first pregnancy for her). How is it that low blood pressure, slightly nerve racking #’s, became meeting someone that walked this journey ahead of us and was there to provide the much-needed lift of spirits…and simultaneously BP back to a safe, manageable state. Literally, the minute she started talking to me (a different nurse was assigned to me initially but had to leave) my blood pressure started returning to normal. She told me she had moved to Texas a year ago and was really struggling here – finding friends, missing family, resentment towards her husband since they moved for his job, etc. Sound familiar? I was able to encourage her through that while she encouraged me through this.

Once sent back to a regular room, I passed out. Jason seems to think it’d be funny to mention where I was when I passed out – the bathroom. He and my other nurse (also an angel, she was from Kenia and I just wanted to listen to her talk with the accent for hours) lifted me up, put me in a wheelchair, and rolled me back to my room. At one point, she came in and said “IF you get to go home…” wait what? I may not be able to go home today? Thankfully, my blood pressure started rising and I didn’t pass out again so we were able to go home. I could sleep in my own bed. 

I will say, the hardest part of this was when I woke up from surgery and knew there wasn’t a baby inside of me anymore. I wasn’t pregnant. I didn’t have that small little baby bump anymore. It was gone. Poof – just like that! I’d have to go through another holiday season without a baby and now not even a pregnancy. I’ll have to watch my friends who got pregnant near the same time as me continue through, watch their bellies grow, celebrate with showers, etc. and know that I lost mine. 

We’ve gone through 3+ years of infertility and finally got our little miracle to only have it taken from us. I have felt completely abandoned by God. Like my lifeboat was coming towards me to finally rescue us from this journey to only ride past me and leave me in the ocean treading water. And I’m so tired.

Maybe one day I’ll get the courage to ask my doctor if the baby was a boy or girl but for now, I’m not ready to know. Big brother Aaron Tyler and G, take good care of our baby.

I know I’ll be okay eventually. I know that I’ll have my full faith and trust in God again. How is it that the person that walked our path, needed to hear the path we walked? God. We left that hospital with a team of people (strangers) supporting us and using the exact words we spoke: you will be back – have faith and see you back here one floor up (labor and delivery). While I believe we are positive people, the moments of encouragement and reminders were not us choosing to focus on the positive. In our blur, we felt support and even hope.

I know that we’ll bring a baby home at some point. It’s hard to think this when you’re in the thick of it but God’s not done with us or our story yet.