Some of you are friends of mine of Facebook.
You may have been noticing my uncharacteristically cryptic status updates.
Today I'm ready to unravel the mystery behind such status updates, for those of you who have been wondering.
Sunday we found out we were pregnant. We were elated! We announced it at church! I brought out the bright green crate of carefully stored-away maternity clothes that we had been waiting many months to be able to use again!
The very next day we found out we were having a miscarriage.
The miscarriage was confirmed today, when Dr W himself called me. When I heard his soft, kind voice on the phone, I immediately started shaking.
He asked me to come in next Thursday to confirm the passage of our baby. He said that a pregnancy blood test would come up negative by then. He said it was a very early miscarriage.
I've thought about doing a post on miscarriage for a couple of weeks now. I wanted to try to shed some light on the whole thing, for those of you who have never had one, or for you who may know someone who has had one and maybe want to help that person.
We've had three miscarriages now. In three years. We've also suffered from infertility for more than two years, after we had Sofia, who is now four years old. We've been at both ends of the spectrum in the realm of childbirth and babies, from elation and joy and triumph to crushing sadness and anguish and terrible grief.
People may wonder why we are so crushed and grieved and saddened after a miscarriage, because after all, we were "barely pregnant".
With our miscarriages, our first one was very early. Our second one was fairly late and very difficult.
You see, the moment that stick turns color, I take possession. The very suggestion of two pink lines causes me to start to dream about the new Little One who will be joining our family! Upon seeing that magical word "Pregnant" in that little window, my mother-hen instinct kicks into overdrive.
And these angel babies of mine are under my skin. They stay just long enough to make their presence known, with sickness and cravings and gentle tiredness. They grace my womb just long enough to get into my heart. Just long enough to be bonded in my soul for life. Just long enough for the giddy joy and passionate ownership to take hold....
And then.......they are gone.
To me, there is just no such thing as being "barely pregnant". There is nothing that rings true in my spirit about that! It isn't a comforting thought or a trite and quick way to "get over it".
I prayed and begged and pleaded with God to let us keep this Baby. And I came to a place of acceptance that, no matter what happened, He is sovereign. His will was ultimately what I wanted. Even if it meant struggling down this path again. I found peace in that.
A mother is a mother no matter how long the child is hers. I am this baby's mother no matter how long we knew each other. I don't stop being their mother once they are gone from this earth. I remember them with fondness and love and sorrow, looking forward to the day when I will meet my baby face-to-face.
I have confidence that my body will do what it is designed to do. But my heart? It isn't as easy as taking a blood test to confirm the loss.
My heart will remember.
This night, I have one more deposit in Heaven.
And tonight, Heaven is much more real and closer now than ever before.