One season fading into another (Pt. 3)

     I feel like this is the last instalment (part III) in the ordeal Kevin and I have been going through. A lot has happened since the last one, so I will try to summarize. The OB visit involved a consultation with two doctors; a resident and an OB. My mother-in-law was so kind to go with me. The prayers leading up to that day were for the Spirit to direct us, making the best choice perfectly clear. I expected the Drs to push for the D & C. To my surprise, the resident listed the possible side effects very soberly. She didn't treat them lightly, brushing them off as though it was unlikely, and when I asked, she was honest that it would not be her first choice if she were the patient. Truthfully, when you are told that you could end up with scarring that could result in infertility or your uterus could be perforated requiring more surgery, you don't care what the odds are. We went with the misoprostol, which was my first choice going in.

    The misoprostol is a drug that is used for various reasons; in this case, to bring on a miscarriage. I had read many personal accounts on message boards, so I had an idea of what could happen from the most ideal to the worst case scenario. We were going to the Mandarin that night, so I was glad I could put off taking the medication until after the buffet. After all, I was made to fast just in case we did the D & C, so I was starving! The irony was as I was waiting for my prescription to be filled, I got an all too familiar sensation: I had already started miscarrying. That misoprostol is so good, I just had it in my hands and it started working! Pitty it couldn't have been before I was out $40!

     At some point, I will put my account on the message boards for future moms facing the choice rather than go into graphic detail on this blog. I would do this option, God forbid, if I ever had to again, but it does require preparation (mental more than anything else). Even though I started the meds Thursday night, the full effect didn't happen until the following night. Taking a dose every four hours coupled with Tylenol 3s (Praise God!), the cramps increased in frequency and length like contractions. At the beginning, 10 deep breaths would get me through. By Friday evening, I would be counting to 25 or 30.  Eventually, they were coming every few seconds upto being right on top of each other. Then, nothing. They stopped for about 20 minutes and then, without any warning, the bleeding hit. Again, it is not a story for anyone squeamish, so let's just say there was a lot! Kevin was an amazing trooper! It's bad enough for women, but men have no training for something like this. He nearly puked twice, but he kept it together and was at my side helping me. I could NOT have gone through this alone! Nor do I think that a woman ever should (that's my recommendation). 

     Every 15 to 20 minutes, I was running to the bathroom soaked. The cramps were back, the T3s gave no relief, and all the cleaning up each time was leaving me exhausted. We did this for over 3 hours with no sign of the symptoms lessening. I told Kevin that if I had to do much more of this, I was going to turn into Lady Macbeth! Due to the heaviness of the bleeding, the exhaustion and the nausea and light-headedness I was getting, we decided at 11:30 pm to go to the hospital. I cannot emphasize enough how glad I am that we went! They took such good care of me at the Stratford ER. They were sweet, supportive and put me at ease in what was an otherwise embarrassing and difficult situation. I had already showered twice in those few hours before going to the ER and I was still a mess.

       They gave me an IV, increased my pain meds (Praise God!) and gave me gravol for the vomiting. Of course that was after the nurse had to fight to actually get the IV needle in. She said that she had never seen such tough skin in her whole career! It took her two tries pushing the needle and moving it around. If you're wondering if that hurt, it did! In the end, she got the IV to work, but the needle wasn't fully under my skin. So the next time someone wants to say that I am too thin-skinned, I have it on a medical authority that I am the complete opposite!

     Then came the internal examination. Kevin was asked to leave for his own benefit. He was a little hurt, I think, but once I described the procedure later, he was grateful! lol. It really was God who lead us to go to the hospital. It was not a serious matter, but there was some blockage impeding the process; hence the heavy bleeding. The doctor extracted it right then and there. And if you're wondering if that hurt too, Hell to the Yes! I thank God that He gave me the same high pain tolerance He gave my mother or I don't know what I would have done. It was an easy fix and I was able to miscarry normally after that.

       Kevin and I were there from midnight to 6:30 am. Poor thing was beyond uncomfortable pulling an all-nighter in a hospital chair. I felt so bad for him and wished that we could be at home in our bed , but not at the loss of my IV with pain killers and gravol! ha ha ha! 3 am was the turning point. The worst was over, my blood pressure started to go back up and I felt ten times better. God was very good! I cannot imagine what it would have been like if we had stayed home.

      So it's now three days later. I finished my misoprostol a few days ago, so I am no longer dealing with the killer cramps. The "physical" aspect of this miscarriage isn't over yet, but I hope that it will by the end of the week. How am I doing emotionally? I have my ups and downs, but really God has been good. The worst I feel is exhausted. The night before I took the meds, I was very anxious. More than that, I felt devastated, but in His faithfulness, Jesus gave me a truth. 

       This is our second official miscarriage in three months. There was a suspected one in the beginning of April, but we have chosen not to count it because it was never medically confirmed. Because it was so early on in the pregnancy, I think I have feared that it's like this pregnancy never happened. I've worried that it's not that big of a deal. I don't know why I think that. I guess, I see it as nowhere near as tragic as women who have lost their little ones in their 2nd or 3rd trimester. It is my error to be making comparisons though. It was over so fast. I never saw a glimpse of it or felt a kick and the physical remains were flushed down the toilet. It seems so dishonouring to a wanted life. I really struggled with it. But like I said, Jesus met me at that place. I cannot describe how hard I cried on Kevin's shoulder as I had a vision of the tiniest form of a little pink baby in Jesus' hands. He answered a deep fear; a fear that I don't think I could have articulated otherwise. 

"This life will not be forgotten. Your babies are not forgotten. It will not be like they never existed because they are with me."

God is so good. I needed this truth so badly, even though it still stings my heart to think about it.

         I have been trying to wrap my head around what are our life is now. We are in a new town, I do not have a job yet, and our plans were tragically derailed as soon as we got here. So I am trying to figure out what my role is. We have been blessed with a fresh start, a perfect new season. Where do I start? As I climb out of the ditch, brush the dirt off my clothes and look around, I see a beautiful new place. I am not the same person I was last month in Hamilton. I am a woman with a bright new future in New Hamburg. I have an amazing husband; a gift from God. I am surrounded by a wonderful new family. My beautiful friends and family are only an hour away. I have two perfect babies up in heaven waiting for Kevin and I in our mansion. Soon, I will be working at the job God has specifically chosen for me. Lastly, like the apostle John, I am the one who Jesus loves, and THAT is what makes all the difference.


Missed the beginning of the story?
Click here for Part 1
Click here for Part 2