This Is a Miscarriage - Day 1

This was written after I got home from a VERY full day of an appointment, ultrasound, tons of emotions, and shopping (because we live in the boonies and we still needed tons of stuff even though I had gotten sad news). 

It's 3am.  I got home about an hour ago.  I'm exhausted...physically for sure, but *mostly* emotionally.

I just typed out what I'll probably use as a status post on Facebook to let everyone know the sad news.  This is it: 

"I am so very sad to let you all know...we found out on Wednesday that our sweet little baby Ebersole no longer has a heartbeat.  I'm so very sorry to share that sad news with you.  But as I said in our recent newsletter, we celebrate together...we grieve together.  We were definitely hoping the grieving part would never come.  But now...we grieve.  And, in the midst of grieving, we can also celebrate.  Celebrate the little life that was only here for a few short weeks.  But it was a big life.  It was a life that brought tons of joy over Christmas, and before and after.  And we have yet to know what other purposes this little life has/will fulfill.  And there *is* purpose.  Because God doesn't allow things to happen without a purpose.  So keep those cards/calendars up on your fridge.  And every time you look at that fun card with our other 4 precious growing babes on it, rejoice in that great big little life.  And know that that baby is now dancing with Jesus.  That baby will never know the sorrows of this earth.  He is forever free of the cares of this world.  He lived his entire little big life in the womb of a mama, and in the center of a whole family, who deeply loved him.  And in all of these things, we really can truly rejoice, even in the midst of our sadness.  Amen." 

I wanted to type that out while it's still fresh.  And that's the same reason I'm typing this.  For the past 11 hours (since 4:30pm when I found out), all I've wanted to do was get back home and write.  It's how I process things the best. 

So many thoughts.  So many feelings.  And yet I find myself really a little speechless.  Probably because there are so many thoughts and feelings coming at me all at once that it is really overwhelming. 

First and foremost, there is profound sadness of course.  Just sadness.  It's heartbreaking that we will never meet this baby this side of heaven.   It's heartbreaking that there are now three little Ebersole babies that we never met this side of heaven.  We can be happy about meeting them one day.  We can be happy for them that they're with Jesus.  And those things do *help* with the sadness.  But, of course, it doesn't take it away. 

A miscarriage is such a loss.  But, it is such a different kind of loss.  It *is* the loss of a child.  It is a child that you loved with all your heart.  It is a child that was forming in your very own body.  And because of that, there was already bonding and loving and major nurturing taking place. 

But, I never *met* this child.  I never *knew* this child.  It is quite a different loss than I would experience if, for instance, this child had made it to this earth, had lived on this earth, I had gotten to know this child, and then I lost him/her.  I'm not saying that I don't feel the loss.  But I am saying, that *for me*...it's just in a category all its own.  There's nothing else in this life that really compares to it. 

What I grieve in a miscarriage is loss of a life, yes.  Loss of someone I profoundly loved already.  But, it is someone that, very practically speaking, I did not know yet.  So really...it is the loss of the expectations...the ideas and hopes and dreams of who this little one *might be.*  The loss of the expectancy.  The loss of the dreams that we were all already having.  The loss of the plans for the next few months of pregnancy and thoughts of how the birth will be and how the kids will respond and what this baby might look like and 'eeek...is it a boy or a girl?!?'  The utter excitement of it all.  It all stops.  Just as the heartbeat of my baby ceased to beat...these things cease...*abruptly.*  Just like my baby, these things are dead to this world. 

So thankful we can look to the eternal.  Because the things of this world *are* abrupt.  My three babes in heaven know that, little wise ones.  And if nothing else, they are there to forever remind us of that truth.  Thank you, my sweet babies.

Let me tell you a little about what actually happened today...how this all happened.  I had gone to a doctor a couple of times in December.  Once just to make sure everything was a-ok after I found out I was pregnant.  The second time, I haven't told you guys about...

On Christmas day, I started spotting a tiny bit.  Tiny.  But, spotting is not normal for me.  Last time I started spotting, I miscarried quickly (my first miscarriage, I never spotted/bled...they just found no heartbeat and did a D&C immediately).  So, I went back to the doctor to see what was going on.  The ultrasound showed that everything, yet again, was just fine. 

The doctor was very sweet, but he just had a very different way of looking at things than I do...and a very different way of looking at pregnancy and birth and what care should look like.  Plus, there was lots of staff that I had to interact with...and a couple weren't so nice to me at one point.  Just...I knew that that was most definitely not the model of care I wanted to put myself under. 

So, today was the day I had my very first appointment with my WONDERFUL midwife that was my midwife with my pregnancy/birth with Eissa...I met her almost exactly 8 years ago.  I haven't seen Sylyna since Eissa's 2-day-old check-up.  :)  Eissa was 7 in October.  It was sooooo good to see her again.  And, sooooo GOOD to be under that model of care.  You guys, for real...whoever doesn't have access to a midwife's care, it is sooooo worth the drive and even temporary relocation to have that. 

We visited, talked forever about life and this pregnancy.  Then she was going to check for a heartbeat.  She said before she put the Doppler on my belly, "Now these Dopplers aren't near as good as the ones I used to have in my practice (sidenote:  she now works in a hospital with a doctor's office...she has singlehandedly opened HUGE doors for midwifery options in the hospital setting...sooo impressed with her and thankful for her calling), so I'm not sure we'll hear anything at 11 weeks."  We didn't.  But since she had said that, I wasn't really thinking anything was wrong...just thought the heartbeat wasn't able to be picked up.  She also said I had kind of a 'deep' pelvis and that my uterus was still sitting down in there...so it was hard to get a good reach on it to place the Doppler where it needed to be to hear the heartbeat.  We discussed whether or not I wanted to get yet another ultrasound to make sure everything was ok.  While I'm usually not a fan of multiple ultrasounds at all (I *usually* just get the one at the 20 week mark), I did decide to go ahead and make sure there was a heartbeat there since she couldn't hear it.  I was sure there would be.  So off to ultrasound I went. 

I knew right away.  I saw the little blob...but this time it wasn't a beating blob.  There was no beating at all.  And I knew.  I was kind of just shocked there for a minute or two.  Then the tears came with a wave of incredible heartbreak/sadness/disappointment/disbelief.  The tech was really sweet.  She took measurements.  She gave me Kleenex.  And then she walked with me, the back way (not through the lobby this time) back to Sylyna's office.  Sylyna and I discussed many things.  It was a seriously God thing that I was there with her.  So thankful that I didn't just stick with what was closer or more convenient or even within our insurance network.  

And so, that's what happened.  The horrible story of today.  So thankful I can see obvious God moments even in the horrible.

So...what now?  Great question.  Because my body has not started the actual miscarriage process (the expelling of everything related to this pregnancy within my body...my situation is commonly called a 'missed miscarriage' or a 'silent miscarriage'), we have to think about/pray about/make a decision about what to do.  I was at the 11 weeks 2 days point.  But...from the ultrasound, the baby was measuring 8 1/2 weeks.  So, we think that the baby actually died a little less than three weeks ago.  Again, disbelief.  So very sad. 

So, it's already been almost 3 weeks and my body is still not letting go of the pregnancy.  Therefore, it might be necessary to do a D&C.  It's just something we have to, like I said, think about/pray about/discuss.  That's the most immediate thing we face as far as decisions we must make.

There are more decisions to make...some short-term and long-term things to look at too.  But, I'm now really too exhausted to lay them out here right now.  I'll get to it.

I do feel much better now though.  Sad...in disbelief...confused.  But processing things by writing/typing...true therapy for me.  I feel unloaded.  And a little more 'in perspective.'

How great was it that I stumbled upon this song the night before my midwife appointment?!?  I listened to it all the way out there to my appointment (a 2 1/2 hour drive).  It applied to my life *so much* already on Tuesday night.  But, how much *more* on Wednesday night! 

~It might not make sense
But one day it will.

There's comin' a day the sun will always shine
He's gonna wipe away every tear from your eyes.
Hold on, Things are gonna get better
You're gonna smile again.~