I’m seeing every one sitting back and reflecting on 2017 and what will be in 2018 and I don’t even know where to start. You see I thought I was going to be making a different post to end 2017 and start 2018.
In late October/early November we found our dream house. We weren’t actively looking but we happened upon it and fell in love. It was perfect. So we tried to make an offer but they wouldn’t accept one conditional on the selling of our house but we decided we would list and pray everything would fall together. It didn’t. Someone bought it as our agent was drawing up our listing and all conditions got waived. We were so sad and frustrated but on those days the universe seemed to take one dream and gave us another. We found out we were expecting a 5th baby in July, maybe s/he would make a June appearance like their early brothers. We were shocked and so happy and couldn’t wait to share the news with everyone.
Things were progressing well. My stomach was expanding. I had great ultrasounds with a strong heartbeat. I recorded the heartbeat on our Doppler. I was in that so-called “safe zone” where the risk was minimal and I was counting down the days to January 1st when we would tell everyone. Some crazy photo post with the whole family and a cheeky phrase like “we are expecting great things in 2018”. You see I wasn’t telling people because I was scared or superstitious, I just loved having the secret to ourselves and sharing our thoughts and dreams of what our new baby and family would look like. Truth be told, I was enjoying the holidays and having this amazing secret with John and I thought the New Year would bring an excitement to this “old” news since we have done it a few times already. 😉
Then came Friday, December 29th. We went to an elective scan to get some photos to share and to let the kids in on things (although I suspect Elijah already had his suspicions) and the baby and it’s heart had stopped. Little did I know on one of the most wonderful days of the year, BabyA 2018 was losing his/her fight. I was/am shocked and numb and caught completely off guard. I just turned to John and he grabbed my hand and leaned in. We had no words. Just tears. Just a few short days ago I listened to baby move and the heart beat away on my Doppler while I lay in bed. We went into the ER since it was a long weekend and no offices were open until Tuesday and I couldn’t be in this limbo for that many days at home. The nurses and Dr’s were so compassionate with me. There wasn’t much they could do but start the official diagnosis process, which couldn’t be made until I had an official ultrasound the next day. So we were sent home to await a call in the morning. The call came just before 9am. 10:30. 10:30 is when I would get official confirmation of what I already confirmed and it was going to be our own personal Hell. Then we’d have to go sit in the ER and wait. We didn’t have to wait too long but we were at the hospital for 10 hours between the appointments, referrals, waiting, & recovery time. The locum OB on call was a pretty amazing man. He was so gentle and kind and totally respected my wishes. He didn’t even question or try to steer me in another direction. He said all the “right” things and made this whole horrible process go as smoothly as it could. I’ll be forever grateful for that.
I’ll never understand why. Even though I “know” why….the medical non-explanation. I know that we had “beaten the odds” having 4 children. I know many people who have suffered miscarriages and/or still birth. I know how common it is (1 in 4) and I’ve seen how debilitating it is trying to be a shoulder to lean on with my friends. I’ve been a witness to all the well-meaning things people have said to them to make them feel better but had the complete opposite effect.
So, please don’t tell me it was for the best or that it wasn’t meant to be. These words don’t bring comfort.
Please don’t tell me it was God’s will or that my baby is now in a better place or that God needed another angel. That is easy to say when it wasn’t your baby/child that is gone.
Please don’t tell me God doesn’t give us more than we can handle or that things happen for a reason. That is not true. There is no reason for a lot of the shit luck in this world, except it was shit luck. I don’t believe that things are taken away or done to us to teach us a lesson. It’s great if a lesson is learned, but I do not believe that is why it happened.
Please, do not say things like “you’re not going to try again, are you?” or “maybe that’s a sign you’re done”. First and foremost, that is none of your business and secondly, it’s plain ol’ f’n rude so please don’t break our hearts by saying something like that.
And please don’t tell me “at least you have 4 children at home”. I know we are lucky to have the children we have. It doesn’t change the fact that this child was wanted and loved as much as my other kids. I will always wonder who s/he would have been and we need to grieve that.
I just want to be able to pick up the phone and call my Mom. That was one of my first thoughts as I was sitting in the van stunned while Elijah asked why I was crying and Oliver asked if I was feeling better now. She was the second person I called when we thought we were losing Elijah. She had such great words of comfort then and I know she would have now. She knew exactly how I was feeling and what the right words to say were. She sadly had a lot of experience in the area of miscarriage and loss. But even if she didn’t, when things like this happen you just want your Mom.
I can’t really talk about it. I’m still in the first stage of shock and denial but once the kids are in bed it’s harder to avoid so here I am. I can write until the cows come home. It’s how I processed everything once Noah was born and in the years since. It’s how I’ve processed the death of Mom. It’s just what I do. Some of it I publish, some of it remains private or some of it gets deleted. I’m just waiting for the pain and guilt and anger to set in. I’m expecting it to come in waves. Nothing can prepare you for the feeling of coming home with an empty uterus and a heart full of sadness that used to be full anticipation even when you knew that’s what the day was going to bring when you woke up.
So now, on the Eve of 2018 instead of sharing happy news with everyone I have immense sadness and grief and disappointment. I can have a stiff drink and will eat whatever junk I want. I had been so careful trying to keep the tight glucose targets for pregnant women, and now I don’t have to. So I’m going to have a stiff drink. Eat lots of sugary junk and probably order in and cry over what would have been. What dreams I had for 2018.
We are entering 2018 with no expectations but honestly, it can only go up from here.
“If love could have saved you, you would have lived forever” ❤