I'm not sure where to begin here. I know that I need to just write about what happened yesterday, but I don't know where to start. Let's start here:
We lost our baby Squooshy yesterday.
It hurts just to say it.
I have been spotting on and off throughout the pregnancy, so when spotting starting up again the other day, I wasn't incredibly worried about it. During work on Monday I noticed it was getting just a bit worse, and Monday night at home it was worse still. Tuesday morning I woke up with fear in my heart, and I think something inside of me knew what was going to happen.
I was going to call the doctor first thing, but didn't because I didn't want to be "that woman." You know, the one who calls the doctor over every little thing. I decided to get up and get moving and get some work done. I cleaned out my closet and drawers, building an impressive "Goodwill Pile" in the middle of the bedroom floor. Then I went into the guest room, and began clearing some things out in order to facilitate the coming transformation to a nursery. I cleaned out that closet too, and cleared out the bookshelf in order to have a place to store all the baby things we have quickly acquired. I looked through the baby clothes we have received - smiling at each little outfit. I opened the St. Louis Cardinals sippy cups my cousin Jessie bought for Squooshy, and displayed them proudly on the top shelf. I dreamed about our little baby as I began preparations for his little room in our home.
I worked for a few hours, and then decided to lay down and rest a while. The spotting hadn't gotten any better, so I called the doctor just to ease some anxieties. She didn't seem too concerned, but we scheduled an ultrasound for today at 1:00 to ease my fears. I had to go in for a blood draw anyway, so we were going to do it all in one appointment.
A couple hours after that, as I laid in bed watching lame daytime television, I noticed that I was cramping. I tried to shake it off - ignore it - but it wouldn't go away. After a few minutes, I turned off the television, and called out to Matt. "Honey...I think I'm cramping." I went right to the bathroom to see if anything had changed. When I wiped, there was a large amount of dark red blood on the toilet paper. I immediately knew that we needed to get to the hospital.
I called the doctor's office to let them know what was going on, and they encouraged me to go to the hospital. I initially thought that we should try to get to Methodist hospital in Indianapolis, but decided that we didn't want to drive for over an hour just to save the money (they have great benefits for Methodist clergy). We chose to go to the hospital in Crawfordsville instead since it was only 20 miles away.
Once we got to the hospital and got checked in, I was thankful that we had made that decision. By the time I was in triage, the cramps were AWFUL. I was sweating profusely, and had a hard time sitting still as they took my vitals. They got us to an OB room in the ER quickly. I told them that I had to use the restroom. They pointed me to a door just a few feet away, and I made Matt come with me. I peed there, and when I wiped, there was a lot of blood and quite a few clots. I just looked at him, and said, "This is not good at all."
We went back to the room, and I paced/groaned/cried as the cramps just kept coming. I felt like some kind of animal. I was perturbed by the unshaven older man across the hall who kept staring unapologetically. Didn't he have any couth at all? Jesus - here I am losing my baby, and he's watching like we're at the zoo. I wanted to scream at him, but thankful I kept my cool.
The doctor came quickly, and I changed into a gown. As I was changing out of my clothes, I saw blood dripping on the floor, and I knew that I was in trouble. I laid down on top of a large pad on the bed. The doctor came in for the exam. It didn't take him long to calmly say, "Okay - you're miscarrying. Here's what is going to happen now..."
I don't even know what he said next. Matt was standing next to my head just holding my hand, and when the doctor said that, he fell apart. I tried so hard to comfort him, but I knew there was nothing I could do. I just laid there as the doctor pulled my baby out of my body, and I felt Matt's tears falling on my face and on my gown...I have never felt so helpless in my entire life. There was so much blood, and each time I felt the warm stickiness of it, the realization that our baby was gone sunk in deeper and deeper. I kept saying, "Oh Lord. Oh Jesus. This can't be happening. I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry." I didn't know what else to say.
They wheeled me off for an ultrasound to make sure everything was out of my uterus. Matt and I watched as the technician looked inside of me. The image of that blank ultrasound screen haunts me still. Just weeks ago I saw our baby on a screen just like that one. He was thriving - his heart beating, his limbs moving. He was alive and well inside of me, and now - in an instant - he was gone. I am so thankful that Matt was with me at our first ultrasound - that he was able to see the baby. He was the first to see the heart beating! I ache for him that he wasn't there for the second ultrasound that I had in Atlanta. I know that he wants to badly to have heard the baby's heart beating like I did. It seems to still be beating in my head today. I can hear the rapid "Whoosh, whoosh, whoosh" as I type this harrowing memoir. I hope someday the sting of not being able to hear that heartbeat lessens in Matt's heart. At the time we figured we would be able to hear the heartbeat together at future ultrasounds. Now I know that Squooshy's heartbeat is a sound that Matt will never hear. I hate that...
As I'm writing this, I'm staring out the window above my desk, and I'm watching Matt pick tomatoes in our garden. My heart literally burns and aches for him right now. He would have been such a good father to our little Squooshy. I wanted so badly to give him a son or daughter. He is the most loving and caring person I have ever met, and I know that this baby would have been loved more than any other baby in the world. Squooshy's Daddy is by far the best man on Earth.
Anyway - the ultrasound showed that my uterine walls were still pretty thick, so they decided to keep me overnight. They hoped that I would expel what was left on my own, so they wouldn't have to do a D&C. They gave me morphine for the pain (I was still cramping badly), and gave me Zofran so I wouldn't puke. The morphine kicked in, and immediately made me feel better.
Soon after the drugs calmed me down, my Mom and sister were there. The pained look on there faces will not leave my memory soon enough. I wanted so badly to comfort them. I wanted to tell them that it was all going to be okay. I wanted to hug them tightly to me, but was frustrated by the fact that the IV wouldn't let me bend my right arm very much. They sat with us for hours last night, and their presence really made me feel better. They allowed me talk about the horrific events of the afternoon as I needed to , cry as I needed to, laugh as I needed to, and just helped me feel encouraged and loved. We got settled in my room for the night, and they left late in the evening.
The nurses and doctors that cared for us were FANTASTIC. I can't even begin to tell you how great they were. They were so caring, loving, gentle, etc. I know that God placed them all there just for us. A few of them were Christians, and were excited to be able to care for us in a Christian way when they found out we were as well. Our nurse in the ER and the OB doctor had both experienced miscarriages in their own life, and they both shared how God was able to sustain them through it. I can't tell you how comforting it was to know that the people who were caring for us knew the Lord. It was as if Jesus were right there with us taking my blood pressure, bringing me ice, etc.
The doctor didn't want me to eat or drink anything in case they had to do a D&C this morning. I wasn't too hungry, but BOY was I thirsty! I think I went through 7 cups of ice chips. I felt a little victorious every time they had melted down enough to let me take an actual drink of water. I felt a little rebellious doing that, but I was so thirsty, I didn't care! Matt and I tried to get comfortable in our room, but I don't think either of us slept very well. I was really thankful they allowed him to stay. He said that he would have liked to see them try to get him to leave anyway. He wasn't going anywhere. I don't think I could have stayed there without him. I almost wanted him to crawl in my bed with me. I just wanted to be able to hold on to each other. Even though his little bed was right beside mine, I felt like he was a mile away from me.
We woke up this morning to some one drawing my blood. They came in and did vitals after that, and I don't think I got much sleep from that point on. The doctor came in an hour or so later to tell us that my blood count looked "beautiful" and that he wasn't going to do a D&C. (whew!) He had breakfast sent right up for me, and said I was free to go when I felt ready. We shared my breakfast, got me dressed, and went home.
As soon as we got home we took a few minutes to catch up on our voice mails, e-mails, Facebook messages, etc. I can't tell you how blessed we feel by each message we have received. It's so overwhelming to know that we have so many friends and loved ones praying for us, hurting for us, etc. from all over the world. I want to call each of you back, write you each an individual e-mail, etc., but I don't think that's going to happen for a long time. It just hurts too much right now. Please just know that I love you for loving us and our baby. Squooshy would have been so blessed to have such a community of people loving him and praying for him if he had been able to live here with us. You all are amazing...
We have been able to rest today. We slept through lunch, but ate a good dinner. I have had a few cramps today, but they're not bad. The doctor just has me taking Tylenol for pain. I don't need much more than that. The bleeding should continue for a few more days, but I should be back to normal after that. We will be able to try to conceive again once I've had a normal menstrual cycle. I'm not sure how quickly we will get back to trying, but I know that eventually we will. We just have to see how long it takes our hearts to heal.
We are still very sad. I think we will be sad for a long time. We tried for so long to get pregnant, and we were hopeful that our infertility journey had ended with this pregnancy. We don't know when we will get to have a baby to keep and raise and love, and we don't know how our next pregnancy will end. BUT we do know that GOD IS WITH US.
He has brought us so much peace throughout this miscarriage. I don't know how else to explain how we feel. We feel sad for what we have lost, but we are so joyful that our baby is with Jesus right now. That our baby never had to experience the pain and hurt and frustration and hate that fills our planet. We know that Squooshy is singing with the angels like he would have sung with me, that he is loving us and learning about us with Jesus, that he is rooting for the Cardinals with his Daddy on Earth and his Father in Heaven (God likes the Cardinals best, you know), and that he is being loved by his creator. There is only one place I'd rather Squooshy be than in our arms, and that's exactly where he is now.
I wish so much that I could have seen his (or her) little face. That I could have loved him and cared for him and held him. I wanted to show him so many things! I will never know what his voice was like, what color hair he had, what his smile was like, etc. Geez - I don't even know for sure if Squooshy was a boy or a girl! Something inside of me thinks it was a boy, but we'll never know. No matter what though, Squooshy was loved by so many people. I am so thankful for that...