I knew from the moment I looked at that positive test, we could be here again, and no matter how hard I tried to fight the urge, I still fell in love with Sweet Pea. Worse, I let Mak fall head over heals.
When we were setting outside of the Ultrasound room, my heart pounded so hard, I could hear it. And I’m not being metaphorical. My foot twitched and I gasped for air, nauseated. I scrolled through texts and Facebook posts, letting myself feel the prayers surround me. Jake’s hand stilled mine. An eternity later, my feet were in the air and I closed my eyes. When I opened my eyes, I saw something like this on the screen:
NOTE: This is NOT my ultrasound pic, but a Google image that most closely resembled what I saw… I didn’t get one.
Anyways, the tech clicked and measured and typed SAC and clicked the dimensions. I kept waiting for her to press the magic zoom button and see my baby’s silhouette. But no matter how much she clicked, zoomed, and wiggled, I never saw it. I looked panicked at Jake and said to the ceiling, looking away from the screen, “It’s not there, is it?”
The tech said no sympathetically and explained she just couldn’t see anything but an empty sac, that the doctor would tell me more.
Here we were. Again. A third time. I stared blankly at Jake as I got dressed and said so flatly, what will be do?
They gave us a private room to wait in for Dr. Peach while he finished with another patient, instead of sitting in the waiting room. The table was unfortunately directly in front of a mirror and I could see my face, the sadness, and it made the tears come. I couldn’t call my mom… I can’t hide my pain from her, so I knew the sound of her voice would make me loose it. So Jake sent our moms texts. I know, a sucky way to hear, but for us, the best.
Soon we were in Dr. Peach’s office, who confirmed what we already knew and outlined the plan we already thought through. Confirmation blood work and ultrasound at the end of the week and D&C at the beginning of next week. I thought of calling Glenn, my boss, but decided to wait. He & his wife have been through this a few times. I immediately started sub plans in my head. I want(ed) this over before End Of Grade Testing and before my best friend’s wedding. I felt anger and frustration at the thought of the lost week with my kids, the week in bed, in a post-anesthesia fog mentally fighting to stop myself from going down the dark road. I don’t want that fight again.
When I lay in bed or on the couch post-miscarriage, I can’t grade papers. I can’t read. I don’t even scroll Facebook or troll mindless websites. I stare. I look at the ceiling, and spend hours telling myself all reasons I can’t and won’t go into the darkness. I remind myself I can’t withdraw, I can’t hide, I can’t stop living. Metaphorically or otherwise. I name names of family and friends who have reached out, and tell myself not to let them down. Mostly, I sleep and dream of nothing. It’s better than letting my mind wander.
I am so broken. I am so tired of this fight. I don’t know if I can beat the darkness this time. I want to be angry and manic and kick and scream and stop living. But I know better, so yet again, I’m going to suit up, put on my boxing gloves and fight the desire to give up and get lost in the despair.
I believe in the power of prayer. I don’t know why our prayers for a healthy baby were unanswered. I don’t get it. I can’t. I know that God’s timing is perfect, but it seems like He’s skipping out on me. I know that’s not it, my faith is stronger than that, but my heart is just sooo crushed. My head can’t wrap itself around it, so I’m just going to have to trust Him. It’s all I can do.
“I was sure by now
That You would have reached down
And wiped our tears away, stepped in and saved the day
But once again, I say, Amen and it's still raining.
As the thunder rolls,
I barely hear Your whisper through the rain, "I'm with you"
And as Your mercy falls, I raise my hands
And praise the God who gives and takes away
And I'll praise You in this storm and I will lift my hands
For You are who You are no matter where I am
And every tear I've cried You hold in Your hand
You never left my side and though my heart is torn
I will praise You in this storm…”