Our pastor came over later that morning to pray and talk with us. Their family had been through two losses and it was nice to talk to someone who had been through what we are going through. He assured us that it gets better, but that the day of the procedure would be one of the worst days. He prayed a beautiful prayer and told us he would be at the hospital before I went in the OR. That evening, my sister and her husband brought over supper. Just as we were sitting down to eat, our pastor's wife brought over another supper. She shared with us a comment someone made to her while she was going through a loss that helped her. She said, some day, when we go to heaven, we will get to name our baby. One thing I really wanted was to know the sex of our baby so we could name him or her. Knowing I still would have that chance was something I could hold on to. It was great to talk to my sister about our experience. It was also fun to hear our kids laughing in the living room with Brandon and their uncle. Their laughter and pure joy fills my heart.
Once again, that night I was able to fall asleep, but woke up at 4am again. Instead of laying in bed thinking, I decided to start writing about what happened. I started a post on Facebook, carefully choosing my words, trying to describe what had happened. Putting our experience into words helped me talk about it later. I waited to post it until I was sure I was ready. Once I hit "post", I felt a sense of relief. Our story was out there and it was no longer a secret. Here is the post from Facebook:
The comments we received were overwhelming. 107 people sent us their thoughts and prayers just on this post. I also received several texts and private messages from close friends and family as well as friends I have not seen or talked to in years. This overwhelming support touched my heart in so many ways. I did not write this post so people felt sorry for us. I wrote it for me, for our baby, so our story could be told. I did not want to hide it, sit at home and feel sorry for myself or pretend it didn't happen. It happened and I wanted to talk about it.
Sanford called several times today. They called to confirm my appointment on Monday, but also said another nurse would be calling on Friday to give me the exact time. Another nurse called to go over some of my medical history. It was emotionally draining to talk on the phone. Every time a nurse said they were so sorry for our loss, it was hard to choke back the tears and thank them. I know they mean well and are sad for us, but it is hard to hear those words over and over.
My mom came over during Madelyn's nap and visited with me. I was beginning to accept what had happened, but still would break down at times. Sometimes I could talk about it without any tears, but other times, just thinking about what happened would push me over the edge. It was an emotional roller coaster and I didn't know if I would ever get off the ride.
Friday was Brandon's 30th birthday. The kids get so excited about birthdays and don't understand why mom and dad don't have parties when we have birthdays! We baked and decorated cupcakes, blew up balloons, wrapped his presents and signed his cards. I wanted to make his birthday as happy as possible at this time. It was also homecoming in Kindred, so we took the kids to the parade. I didn't want them to miss it as they were so excited earlier that week to go. I was afraid to go out in public. I wasn't ready for hugs or talking to too many people. My wound was still really fresh and I was feeling broken. However, it was nice to get out of the house and do something fun with the kids. My mom picked up spaghetti dinners to go and we ate at our house. Brandon's parents also came over, so we had cupcakes and sang "Happy Birthday" to Brandon. The kids were excited that we were having a "party"!
We read books in our bed, like we usually do, as a family, said prayers together and tucked in the kids. When I went to kiss them goodnight when we were finally ready for bed, they both had their hands above their heads like our baby did in the ultrasound. That was all it took for me to lose it again.
On Saturday, my mom, sister and I went to the Junk Market. I had been looking forward to the Junk Market for a long time and thought it might take my mind off of this situation for a bit. We all came home with some cool junk and had a lot of fun. Mom dropped me off and ended up staying and talking for almost three hours. Mom and dad were going out for supper because it was their anniversary. Brandon called and said his parents would keep the kids overnight if we wanted to go out for supper for his birthday. After stopping at several steak houses, then leaving because it was an hour or more wait, we ended up at Season's at Rose Creek. We had a lovely meal and enjoyed some much needed alone time.
I noticed that my stomach was shrinking. I no longer had my baby bump and actually wore one of my regular shirts when Brandon and I went out. My rapidly shrinking stomach makes me believe that our baby was just small and didn't actually pass when I was 14 weeks like the doctor thought. The first time I noticed I was shrinking/not growing was about a week before we went in for my 17 week appointment. I keep thinking about Labor Day weekend when I felt the baby move for the first and only time. I know what I felt was the baby and believe that it was just smaller than average. It is hard to look in the mirror and see my stomach return to normal. Any other time, I would be super excited to have a shrinking stomach, but this time, I would give anything to have my bump back. I knew it would be even smaller after Monday and that was difficult to think about.
We decided not to go to church on Sunday. I wasn't ready to talk to too many people and knew I would get a lot of hugs that would just make me cry. The next day was my surgery and I just wanted to be home and "enjoy" my last day with my baby. Brandon went to work for a few hours, so the kids and I tried to clean up the house a bit. Mom picked up the kids later that afternoon. They were going to stay overnight so they wouldn't have to see us leave in the morning. I wasn't sure what I would feel like in the morning getting ready to go for the surgery.
I was having a hard time letting go. When other friends have been through this same thing, I always thought to myself how awful it would be to have a deceased baby inside. However, when it happened to me, I felt just the opposite. I wanted that baby inside of me. I wasn't ready to let go. I knew that after my surgery, that was it. I wouldn't be pregnant anymore and I wouldn't ever feel this baby again. On one hand, I wanted it to be over because I was constantly worrying that the baby would pass at home. On the other hand, I wanted to keep it close to me. I slept a total of 2 hours that night, mostly made up of short 10-20 minute naps. So many things were going through my head and I just couldn't relax. Morning was going to come quickly and I felt there was nothing I could do that could prepare me for what was going to happen...
No comments:
Post a Comment