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Shattered Dreams and Unanswered Questions
Jan 06, 2002

My husband and I have dreamed of having our own family from the day we knew we were in love and wanted to spend the rest of our lives together. We know in our hearts that God brought us together. There was no reason in this world we should have ever met.

After 4 months of trying, waiting, hoping, praying... we thought we were on to another month. I had terrible cramping, stabbing pains in my abdomen and assumed my cycle was about to begin. I took a home pregnancy test out of hope, and it was negative. The pains persisted. My cycle still did not show. A week passes. I decide to test again with another brand. BINGO!! The pink lines showed the second my urine touched that stick. Of course, I took another test, being in such shock. I again had an even darker line! I thanked God for this wonderful gift and immediately gave the child to God for safe keeping.

Being a nurse, I also knew my symptoms were not "normal". My husband and I called the doctors office and were told to come in later that afternoon. I had lab work that day and again 2 days later. The HCG almost tripled, which should have been a very wonderful sign. It almost ruled out an ectopic completely. The doctor refused to order an ultrasound. I even offered to pay for it out of pocket before they even billed the insurance company. This was not my usual doctor's office and I am sure being an OB clinic, they see worried moms-to-be daily and laughed me off after the lab work returned. Nervously, I continued my day dreaming of our tiny little baby growing safe and sound in my tummy. My husband and I would share private smiles, public joy and talk endlessly of "is it a boy or a girl, will the twins gene show up for us, will it or they have lots of hair, shouldn't I have morning sickness..." I thought reaching our due date would take an eternity.

Only 2 short weeks passed before my world came to a sudden halt. On the morning of New Years Eve I awoke and noticed the cramping, that had returned with a vengence 2 days before, was more intense. I reminded myself that I was on a growth spurt week according to the books and the doctors weren't concerned so neither should I be. They said the pains were just the ligaments stretching as my baby grew and my appointment with the family practitioner was just a week to go. A few hours later, after our breakfast, we planned to go "window shopping" for clothes and all that wonderful baby stuff. One last trip to the bathroom would change my entire life.

There on the tissue paper was a tiny smear of pink. Not like a cycle, just like water with food coloring in it. My heart stopped and my feet went numb. I flushed and ran to my husband. My dearest friend and supporter. He dismissed it. I felt like an angry fool. I will never again doubt what my body is telling me and he says he won't either. I felt something wasn't quite right from the very beginning, almost like God was preparing me for something.

That night the bleeding became heavier. My husband then became worried and quite apologetic. We hurried to the emergency room where we were told we could wait 4 hours to be seen, then 4 hours for an ultrasound or go home and wait. The nurse said they couldn't very well "stitch me up" and that I should go home where we were more comfortable. In her defense, she spoke to me "nurse to nurse" and her tone was quite sympathetic. But did they act so careless because I am a part of that profession too? This was my baby! I know all about the signs, but this was something I wanted to protect and do anything to help. That night, at home, I cried and screamed "why" at God, kicked the couch and finally fell asleep for 2 hours in the loving arms of my husband.

The next day, we returned as instructed, with such sad and heavy hearts. I was checked in and immediately evaluated. I was pale and could barely stand the pain. The doctor said my cervix was closed, but was oozing blood. There were "several clots" and the last one he removed was the only one sent to the lab. My poor husband had to see what the staff believed to be our baby and we are still waiting on the results. He is convinced it was our baby. I was wheeled to the ultrasound lab where after a regular and then a vaginal u/s were performed, I was told by the tech my uterus was "empty". How fitting a choice of words. At one point, he was near one of my arteries and a heart beat sounded. When I jumped, he quickly cut off the volume, told me what it was and apologized.

The doctor did say that my ovaries looked normal and my tubes appeared clear. That was a blessing within itself. My pain was much improved after the pelvic exam earlier, so we were sent home with the usual list of precautions. My pregnancy did not appear tubal and no further testing was done that day. The cramps were just my bodies way of trying to expell the baby, supposedly. 2 days later, my primary care doctor said everything appeared normal based on the reports he read and we could try again after 2 cycles. I am now tired to death of hearing the word "appears". I wish something could be concrete.

That quickly my entire world was shattered. Drug addicts and teen age moms can have full term pregnancies, please accept my forgiveness if I offend anyone, but here we sat all alone in our home. I still don't understand how God could have thought this was the best thing to do. I probably never will. I just long for that tiny little baby to be back in my tummy growing and growing... The creator of the entire universe saw a need to call my child home and left me without even an ultrasound photo. I was scheduled to have it 3 weeks later. My first order of business was to cancel the OB appointment.

Ironically, the only thing that does bring me peace is the fact that I believe. It is that simple. I believe God has a purpose for all things and never makes a mistake. Perhaps He made a decision about something that I would not have been strong enough to make in the future. I feel like an empty vessel, but I try to have faith that He will fill me again. I long for my prayers to have meaning again, right now I feel like I am just going through the motions, just following the routine. I just want God to know even though it feels like it, I am not forgetting Him and please not to forget me. I am human, yet I have hope that one day my words to Him will be felt in my spirit again. It has only been exactly 7 days today that I lost our baby. God gave His only son for us. I know He understands how we feel.

My husband finally called his parents last night. It was the first time I have seen him cry since the micarriage. He is such a faith filled man and to see him so broken just ripped my heart out. He has been so strong for me this week that at times, I wondered if I was the only one feeling this pain. He allowed me to comfort him and share his grief this night. I just wanted to hold him and absorb all his pain. We know that it takes 3 to make it through; us and God. This reassures us that we will make it and one day have our dreams fulfilled according to God's plan for our lives.

My sorrow is not knowing what caused this. It is easy to blame myself. I have so many unanwered questions and unfinished dreams. I will never know what our baby was, whose nose it had or what color it's eyes would have been. You see, they were only testing for fetal tissue presence, nothing genetic "at this point". I can't believe the medical community feels a woman should go through this at least 3 times (providing there was not an ectopic pregnancy) before anything is considered worthy of the term abnormal!!!!! Maybe they could learn a little more if things would sooner be considered worthy of testing. Has our society come no farther than this? No wonder so little is known about women and their bodies. And as a nurse, I cannot believe I have been so naive to the whole reproduction process.

I don't know how long this sadness will last, but I am determined to move ahead with my life with the strength I find in the Lord Jesus. He alone is worthy of praise and thanksgiving. I have been blessed with such a supportive christian family and got a good "talking to" by my grandmother. She says I need to give God thanks for His wisdom and "pull myself up out of this by the bootstraps". She says if I reach one hand up, God is there with both hands reaching down to carry me through.

We are thankful for the short time we had with our little baby and our dream remains to try and try again, as they say. I am allowing myself to grieve the loss of this little life. I know there is now yet another little precious angel playing in Heaven. And God is a good and perfect Father.
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