Romans 12:12

One year today. It's been exactly a year and I made it through, even though there were plenty of times I thought I couldn't.
May 14, 2012 at this time I was just getting home from the hospital after a D&C.
Let me backtrack just a little.

Chris and I found out we were pregnant with our first child on March 22 last year. And to say we were excited was an understatement. We told our parents and brothers first at about 7 weeks and shared the news with some friends and family at 10 weeks. The Monday after we shared our news, I had a routine appointment and ultrasound with my OBGYN. (well, my nurse is a friend of my mom's so she was sneaking me in for an extra U.S. at 10 weeks..)
I should have been 10 weeks and a few days at this appointment, and our baby was measuring only 7 weeks, and there was no heartbeat. In a matter of seconds I had a million thoughts running through my mind. Immediately I started trying to figure out why that could be. Maybe they had the first measurement wrong? Maybe my dates of my last period were off? Maybe our baby is just smaller? Maybe they just couldn't find a good spot to hear the heartbeat?
But, deep down, I knew what was happening. I knew a 3 week difference was just a little too much to rationalize, no matter how bad I wanted to.
The ultrasound tech suggested we see my OBGYN and talk to him about the results so we walked next door. And the only thing I remember him saying was that he was about 99% positive we were having a miscarriage. I just sat there and stared at Chris across the room in a fog. Not knowing how to react or what to say, hoping he was listening to the doctor because I sure wasn't.
All I know is that if my mom and Chris hadn't been there holding each arm I wouldn't have made it out of the waiting room. I don't remember getting to the car, I don't remember that afternoon or night. I called in sick to work on Tuesday, tried to go in on Wednesday but they sent me home, went back on Thursday and it was probably the worst day through all of it, and called in sick again on Friday. My D&C was scheduled for that Monday morning. They offered me the option to wait for things to happen naturally, but my doctor didn't really like that idea since it had already been a few weeks and nothing had happened. But oh, what a disgusting decision to have to make. I was sick to my stomach all weekend thinking about the impending events that were to take place Monday morning.

I questioned everything all summer. Wondering if I had done something wrong in the beginning, or if we'd ever be able to have children, and why this had to happen to us. I would try to go on family vacations, have dinner or meet with friends, but I was never truly present. I was faking every minute of it. All I wanted to do was stay at home and cry, and sleep. Chris made an appointment for us to talk to our priest and I was dreading that. I kept thinking that he probably hears things a million times worse than our situation every day, what could he possibly say to us that would help me...but he did. Just hearing him say God knows your pain, there is a reason this has happened, you may not understand it yet but you will, helped tremendously.
And I believe that.
I have never been one to talk about my relationship with God, but I think that's why he had us go through that pain. So we would truly begin to seek Him in good times and in bad times. So that we would know he has a plan for each of us, including Chris and myself. So that we would be a little more grateful for our loved ones and not take each other and our lives for granted. It has brought me to my knees multiple times, and still does.

The reason I'm posting this now, is because so many people have come out of the woodwork to share their story with me and I hope that this helps someone else. It's not going to make it better, or easier, or anything like that. But it might just help to know you aren't alone. Even a year later I have trouble talking about it.
So does Chris. It is something that will affect us forever.  We will never be "over" it, but we will have to learn how to live with it. And maybe be there for someone else along the way. I'm so thankful for all of the people that reached out to us, even those that never lost a child. Because that's what it is, even though we may not have met our child yet, it's still our child. And it's still a loss. And there's no way for anyone to understand that unless you've been through it.


Romans 12:12 is my reminder to go to God for all things-good and bad and even when I don't "need" anything, just to thank Him or say hello. Especially these days-the last few weeks before we become a family of three (or 4, actually, sorry Bella!). I am ever so thankful for this little life inside me. I'm so grateful for the nausea the first 12 weeks, for the back-aches, for the sleepless nights, for the swollen feet and fingers I am noticing these days, and when people say "ohhhh, bless your heart, I bet you are so ready" or "how are you feeling?" or "ready to pop?" I'm being honest when I say I've loved every second of pregnancy. After going through a miscarriage last year I realize it's all so so worth it. It's so much better to try and enjoy carrying this precious life than going through it complaining about every little ache and pain. A friend that reached out to me last year told me that would happen and it's so true. You really don't even think about any of those bothersome pregnancy problems because you are just so grateful to have another God-given chance to be a mom.