Wednesday, January 7, 2015

TMI or The one where I share way too much and if you have a queasystomach, maybe you shouldn't read this one.

Bed rest.

That is what today feels like.

Not that I have ever been on bed rest before, but I will still claim the comparison.

Except my little baby who isn't so little anymore is keeping me company today.  She is sitting in my reading chair, eating peanuts and making the cutest munching noises in the history of the world.
I am loving this moment!

It all began in November, about a week before Thanksgiving.

I found out I was pregnant.

I was so happy! I told Jeffrey and amazingly enough, he was excited. I think that was the first time he didn't have a mini melt down after hearing he was going to have another baby. He is great once they get here, but the stress of a baby always freaks him out at first.

So we had a wonderful happy secret and I had an excuse to not clean out the litter box.

All was well in the world.

And I wasn't even sick!

December began with warm weather and the end of a semester, which means lots of stress. The end of the semester bit, the warm weather was odd, but nice. Especially when Jeffrey had his capstone project for school.  Which is his school's equivalent to a thesis. That meant late hours of homework, very little patience, and stress.  On top of the regular Christmas chaos.  Jeffrey worked on his paper, and I had the ridiculously delightful job of proof reading and editing. We submitted the proposal Christmas Eve and had a glorious Christmas day, free of stress and worry. The proposal was in!

Christmas day we told our family members about the coming baby. They were as excited as we were!

The day after Christmas we began the hard work of doing the actual paper. The thesis, if you will. Jeffrey and I completely neglected the kids and let them turn their brains to soup in front of the teley as we worked all day, and long hours on that paper.

The night before New Year's Eve I found a little blood. I worried a little, but really had to help Jeffrey finish his paper and get it submitted before the new year, so I pushed all worry aside, and we pushed full steam ahead with that paper. He got it submitted around 1 in the afternoon on New Year's Eve. Yay! It was graded that night and he passed.

Which means he is so close to being done with school now. Just one more class! SO excited!!!

At 1:45 I went in to see my midwife to check on the baby.

I hadn't been in yet, because the contract Jeffrey worked for was ending on the 31st and he was signing on with a new one January 1st, which meant different/new insurance. So I was just going to wait to go in after the new year, which would have put me around 12 weeks along. But the lack of being sick and the bit of blood had me worried, so I made an emergency appointment and went in to see my midwife.

She did an ultrasound and there was no movement. No heart beating. And it was the wrong size. It measured about 7 weeks.

I had to take a few deep breaths before I could talk.

I was afraid of that, though I somehow already knew.

My midwife is wonderful. I had gone through this once before with her already, and she was very sympathetic and understanding, though I couldn't really speak. I drove home, crying and not wanting to go home. I wasn't ready to be around people, yet. I called Jeffrey and told him the news, and he was amazing and supportive. I drove and cried and talked my heartache out with him. It was decided I would head to Target. You know, every woman's happy place where they enter just needing to get "one thing," and leaving with heavy carts and light bank accounts. Jeffrey was going to see if he could get off early and meet me there.

I wandered the store, not really looking at anything, slightly terrified I would begin crying again because I really had no control over my tear ducts at that moment. I didn't see anything to entice me and my coveting meter was so low it wasn't even functioning. I just wandered, waiting for my rock to come support me. He was able to leave the office, and once we met up, we went to the electronics section. All either of us wanted to do for NYE was watch Indiana Jones and go to bed.


We were supposed to have friends coming over to play games that night, but we cancelled on them because I really didn't want to be around people. I needed time to process.  And I was still weepy. I didn't want to suddenly burst into tears when we were playing or laughing. Besides, I wasn't ready to put on a brave face, yet.

And so, we got Chinese food, set the clocks ahead a couple of hours, watched a show with the kids, and sent them to bed, immediately followed by ourselves going to bed.

The next day I processed some more, except I didn't really. I had so many things to do for primary for the new year. I didn't have time to think or process or dwell.  Folders had to be put together, a teacher meet and greet needed to be planned and executed, as well as a teacher training. I was in charge of sharing time for Sunday, I needed to help Faye write a talk, and I needed to get newsletters written up. So much to do, so little time to think about my woes.

Which really, is one of the best ways to heal, isn't it? Immerse yourself in a work and not have time to worry about yourself?

At any rate, I need to interject here. There has not been any sense of loss with this miscarriage. No feeling that someone in my family is missing. Just bitter disappointment which was gotten over quickly. I couldn't talk about it for the first two days, but after that I was fine.

I am fine.

I don't want to be painted as a tragic hero. I don't want to be felt sorry for, because I don't feel sorry for myself. I firmly believe that my family isn't complete yet, but I believe even more firmly that I am not in charge. God is in charge and knows what is best and when is the best time for our family to grow again. How can I be sad knowing that a loving Father in Heaven is watching out for me, guiding, and orchestrating things so that I can grow and my family can have the experiences that we need to grow closer together? That spirit will join my family eventually, just not yet. Besides, Beth isn't ready to be replaced as the baby in our family. She still needs lots of cuddles and love and attention before being displaced as the baby in the house.

I am not sad. I am no longer disappointed. I am so happy and blessed and grateful for all that I have.

I have been experiencing the awesome physical side of miscarriage for the past week or so, now.

Which is why I have been spending the majority of the day laying down and cuddling with Beth, cherishing her crayon eating, peanut dumping, cuddly little self today. She is a tender mercy, I tell you.

What a lucky woman I am!