Broken
It's been a while since I've written. There were times I wanted to, in the midst of trials and the unknown, but the problem with writing in the unknown is I sometimes feel like I'm writing in a circle. Patrick got an opportunity with work which could have moved us to California quickly--but they went with the other candidate. I've had some job opportunities and have spent a lot of time applying and interviewing for jobs, some I really wanted and was crushed when others were selected. There are times we feel like the perfect candidate for a position but must remember that other people have agency too, and they can use that agency to select someone else. Patrick and I have learned that numerous times over the past couple of months. With this almost same scenario playing out over and over, it felt weird to write because instead of giving an 'update', you would have been just as lost and confused as us as we tried to navigate life. Maybe that wouldn't have been such a bad thing, as I doubt we are the only ones going through something like this in this journey we call life 😊
It's amazing when your perspective on things and what you find important in life completely changes.
My entire life my biggest dream has been to be a mother. I've planned much of my future around that opportunity--when to work, what jobs to take, looking for possible remote positions for later if I still need to work, etc. Recently that dream started to come true, and I was so excited! May 21, 2021 I had my first doctor/ultrasound appointment. Have you ever had that moment where a doctor gets really quiet, and although everyone in the room tries to keep hope, you know something is wrong? That's what happened to me. We had gone over my expected due date, they showed me the flash drive they would upload all consecutive ultrasound pictures on for my keeping, so on and so forth. When the doctor began the ultrasound, she found twins, my other biggest dream. Although twins don't run in my family, Patrick and I have talked about how fun it would be to have twins, and how the names we like just worked so well for a pair. Hearing twins got me even more excited, but the size was concerning. As the doctor looked, she said for being 8 weeks along those babies were too small. She talked to us about the possibility that maybe we conceived later than we had thought, but I knew that was not the case. So here we are on a Friday in the late afternoon, her calling down to the ultrasound department to see if they can quickly get us in to check things out more in depth, understanding based on what she is seeing that there is a threat of miscarriage. After all, it was supposed to be the best day of hearing little hearts beat and letting the realness sink in, but instead there were no heart beats and that's the unfortunate reality we were being plagued with.
Ultrasound got us in, did a more in depth scan, gave us measurements. The pregnancy looked good other than size of babies, so they again said it's possible our dates were just off. Their hope was that we were just in for this appointment early and that all would be well. After ultrasound we went to the hospital lab to get bloodwork done. We did this to test pregnancy hormone levels so we could come back two days later and see if they had gone up or fallen, a sure sign of whether this pregnancy was progressing or not.
And then we went home. Went home to feel the deafening silence. We actually did talk, but we also were in our own heads a lot and for me, that was a sad place to be. I began to have some cramping, and then started bleeding more like a period. I was so scared. I asked Patrick to give me a priesthood blessing that night and although I only remember a snippet of it, I felt so much peace. With what he said in that blessing, I began to trust my body and had more hope than I did earlier--maybe things would be alright.
The next day was tough. I stayed in bed for a long time, and I cried a lot. Things hadn't improved. We went to Patrick's parents' house so Patrick could detail a car we were driving to his sister in Texas the next weekend. The pain just kept getting worse, physically and emotionally. At this point I wasn't telling people, so trying to hold myself together in front of Patrick's parents was also really hard. Eventually I was in our car calling the on call doctor and crying in the car, so they figured it out. Patrick said the hardest thing was watching the two women he loves most crying and hugging each other. Miscarriage is rough on everyone. Everyone shows it differently, but it really is hard on everyone involved.
The doctor told me at what point I would need to go to the ER, and I hoped it wouldn't get to that point. But it did. The amount of blood was astounding, and we couldn't deny that a trip to the ER was imminent. So we left. I had to go home and change and grab my ID and insurance card. We spent 4 hours in the ER, and other than the physical pain that I was so aware of, emotionally I felt numb. I didn't cry while I was there. I just felt so in limbo. I passed what I believe was fetal tissue, but also needed the doctor there to help complete the miscarriage. I do feel blessed though that my body did the majority of the work on its own. I did not need medication to begin the miscarriage, and I did not need a d&c procedure. I am thankful that things went as well as they could have, considering the situation.
As I said before, it's amazing when your perspective on things changes. I've always been a stickler when it comes to saving money, and always strive to be so careful with it. In the midst of this challenge, beginning that Friday in the doctor's office, I didn't care about the money anymore. Extra ultrasounds, bloodwork, I was willing to do whatever it took to help me and my babies and to hopefully have them with me. When I think of the ER I think unless it's life or death I really don't want to pay for that--Saturday I didn't care. I needed help and nothing in life was more important at that time than was what was happening with these babies and my body that housed them.
The days slowed down, and I just stayed sad. Emotions coming in waves and being on an emotional rollercoaster are both accurate descriptions. I was sad and deflated, and then I was numb. Some days even soon after the miscarriage I was able to talk about it with people, and sometimes without sobbing but it was because I was feeling numb. (And because I felt like I was out of tears at that point). Here's what I learned: Miscarriage, as well as stillbirth, infertility, losing a child, it is SO common. Being common doesn't make the pain subside at all--for me, it just made me more heartbroken knowing how many other women and families are going through this, and how often. People have repeated experiences. That is AWFUL! I would never wish this pain on anyone, and it devastates me that so many people suffer in silence. I planned to be one of those people--this wasn't news I was going to share with the world. But that isn't fair. Not fair to me, to my babies, to all the wonderful people going through similar pain. It is not the same for everyone, but it is relatable. I think everyone deserves love and support and that is why I have told people. Sometimes talking helps. I think writing this is helping. It's a slow and steady course of healing, a forever part of Patrick and I now.
"No matter what form it takes, suffering always commands our attention. It will not be alleviated by comparison to greater or lesser suffering, or even your perception of it. Your pain is your pain and it deserves the dignity of recognition, for that is where healing begins." -Adriel Booker, Grace like Scarlett
Grace like Scarlett by Adriel Booker is a book I would highly recommend whether the loss is your own or a family member's or friend's. It is raw and real and is helping me navigate my grief.
Life is hard. We thought it was hard before this--felt like we were in limbo with jobs, trying to figure out where to live and also how to afford wherever that is. I worried about those things, until going through this experience. Suddenly, things that seemed important and demanded my attention no longer did. Suffering did command my attention, and that's OK. Patrick and I continue to grieve together, and share a closeness I treasure.
Although we did not get the outcome we desperately wanted, we know things will be alright. God never abandons us in our time of need. He never abandons us when we are broken.
For anyone out there suffering quietly, I offer a listening ear. When that grief hits I know it knocks you down, but I also know that simply having your grief acknowledged helps a lot. I know people do not know what to say, I was one of those people and in some cases probably still am. But if I can acknowledge and offer any sort of comfort, I want to. I don't want anyone suffer alone.
It's OK to grieve. Grief certainly has its place. It's OK to reach out to people close to you, and above all it is BEYOND DOUBT OK to reach out to the Savior. His arms are always outstretched, and He understands your grief. He understands you and He understands how to help you heal. He will mend all broken things.
I love Him, and I know He loves you, dear friend. I hope and pray you find peace and solace in Him.
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