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

Still waiting... (Pt. 2)

Inigo Montoya said it all for me in Princess Bride: "I hate waiting."

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=y0Y7ScfaVHs

     On June 28th, the joyful flow of hopes and day dreams I had for our little "sweet pea" came to a jolting halt. After five days of waiting for the results of the ultrasound, I learned over the phone that there was a 7-week-old sac that was empty with no heart beat. I journaled out the contents of my heart the next day. I battled between wanting to hope and accepting the demise. Three days later, we were moving. I waited expectantly for the natural miscarriage to begin. On moving day, I had spotting. I was sad, but felt relieved at the same time. I poured all my nervous energy into throwing boxes and furniture around, scrubbing the kitchen tile on my hands and knees, chugging a 2L bottle of coke (give me a break! I hadn't had any in over a month! lol) and insisting I was fine. I would have been going up and down the stairs if my husband and in-laws hadn't stopped me. I had a streaming cold, too. I wanted to work myself to the point of exhaustion. I wanted to bring on what was coming, if it was going to come at all. By lunch time, despite my efforts, I was no longer spotting and did no further until Thursday. 

   Every day that week, I waited. Going to the washroom has taken on a whole new meaning for me, and I look forward to the day when I can pee without having to expect or inspect! I tossed back and forth. Kevin would reassure me that soon this would be over and we would have an answer. As much as I knew he spoke the truth, it did not satisfy me. 

"There is no maybe in this situation!" I expressed my frustration to him honestly. "Perhaps in our minds, because we don't know what has happened yet, but in reality our baby is either gone or alive. This is a black and white situation. How am I supposed to rest my mind in a "grey" area that I know does not exist?!"

I thank God that He brought me an answer soon after that conversation. These are the words that came to me:

"Whether your baby is still alive or gone, it is in Jesus' hands." 

Let me type that again for my own benefit.

Whether my baby is still in my womb or its spirit has gone to heaven, my baby is in Jesus' hands. There is no better or safer place for my wanted-love to be. This was my turning point. This was the only image that could get me through. Even picturing our child in heaven was like a knife going through my heart. The separation is too great. But somehow picturing our sweet pea in His nail-pierced hands made some subtle difference that I could finally rest.

Last Friday, I had my second ultrasound and more blood work. I was anxious the night before. Many of my pregnancy systems have remained present and in the absence of spotting, I was starting to hope everything may still be viable. I cried and prayed with my mother that night. The day of the ultrasound, I felt completely at peace; except during the ultrasound, of course. I swear she had that wand pressing up against my kidneys! But peace resumed even when the technician restated the lab's policy of giving patients no diagnosis. "I cannot make comment," she repeated several times. Once she left the room for me to clean up, I took a peak at the screen before returning to the changing cubicle. I read her measurements and could see at once that the sac had not grown in two weeks.

   I could not see how this could be a positive thing, but I still hoped. There didn't seem to be anything else for me to do. I had been escorted back to the "waiting room". Sometimes, it feels like a waiting room with 20 year old chairs, outdated magazines and monotonous artwork on the walls. Then there have been days where it feels more like a waiting cell. It's cold, dark, restrictive with only enough room for me to pace and become claustrophobic with my own worries and doubts. Yet even in the waiting cell, there is a thin ray of light coming through the bars to bring me hope. Even when I am at a low point, I know that this is a season which, thank heaven, is temporary by definition.

   God, as always, has been merciful. The test was done Friday and we had the results by Monday! Much sooner than I had prayed for. "[God] is able to do immeasurably more than all we ask or imagine." Ephesians 3:20 God knew that I needed finality not just that day, but that very morning. I had woken up from a distressing dream which turned out to be prophetic. In the dream, I had a baby and realized that I needed a babysitter for a week because something had come up. As I made preparations, I realized that I had not seen my baby for awhile. In fact, I had not seen it since the day it was born. I started running around asking people, "Where did my baby go?" I woke up to my fingers dialing on an invisible phone mumbling out loud, "Where did my baby go?!" I lay in bed for awhile staring at the wall, mulling the dream over in my mind. I concluded that if there was any truth in it, the truth was that my baby was gone. Maybe my body had finally realized that the sac was empty. Maybe the hcg levels would descend quicker allowing my womb to release what it has already known for weeks. After days of having an incessant chatter of anxiety mixed with hope in my head, there was a silence. "I have to accept this." I said to myself.

   Within 20 minutes, the phone rang. It was the nurse from my doctor's office. The radiologist's report explained that there was no change and concluded that the pregnancy was indeed no longer viable. The next few hours involved phone calls to get me referred to an OB in Stratford. Again, God has opened doors and allowed things to move at a quick pace. I thank Him. Tomorrow, I am going to the ER to meet the OB to discuss the options for moving forward. I need prayer and God's wisdom as I need to decide between natural miscarriage, medically induced miscarriage or a D& C. I have mixed feelings about each one. A natural miscarriage could leave me waiting still as my body does not seem to want to give this up and, of course, there are risks to waiting too long. I think what makes me cringe at the D& C is that it feels like an abortion. What a loaded word that is. It can spark forest fires depending on what context or forum it is used, so let's just leave it at the thought of having one makes me sick. Perhaps I will compromise with the pill (misoprostol) to get this ordeal over with.

   So I am still waiting to miscarry, not too hopeful for a miracle anymore; not this time anyway. We will see what tomorrow awaits me at the hospital. God is our strength and ever present help in trouble. I cannot wait for this to be over, so Kevin and I can move forward in our life together and we believe, very soon, with an expanded family.

"The LORD is my strength and my shield

my heart trusts in Him, and He helps me.

My heart leaps for joy, and with my song I praise Him."

Psalm 28:7

Click here for Part 3 (After the miscarriage)
Missed Part 1 (Waiting for Miscarriage or a Miracle)?

Waiting for a Miscarriage or a Miracle (Pt.1)

There are a lot of uncertainties in life. I always thought that the older I grew, the more I would know and understand. I guess it is true and I do become wiser with years, but all I am learning is that there is so much I do not know.

"Let the wise listen and add to their learning,

and let the discerning get guidance."

Proverbs 1:5

 I am increasingly convinced that there is no such thing as being in control. It's a concept; a state of mind. I do not believe that it is an actual capability, which will come has a hard blow to all the type A personalities out there. Perhaps that is why the Bible is continually encouraging us to submit, surrender, put our trust in God, hope in Him and not in man, and to seek all of our needs through His kingdom.

"There is no rock like our God." 1 Samuel 2:2

"All things are possible through Him who gives me strength." Phil. 3:14

"Seek first His kingdom and His righteousness and all these things will be added unto you." Matt 6:33

"Lean not on your own understanding, but in all your ways acknowledge Him and He will keep your paths straight." Prov. 3:5, 6

"It is better to take refuge in the Lord than to trust in man." Psalm 118:8

What if this tug of war with God is just in our minds? It isn't God trying to control and dominate the earthlings. He is trying to teach us that He is the way, truth and life. We have no control; choice, yes; control, no. Near the end of His life, King Solomon concluded that there is no activity, no possession, no quantity of riches, no relationship, no belief system that is of any value apart from God. "meaningless, meaningless, everything is meaningless." We get so personally involved in what we do or believe. We invest our pride and reputation in our politics, our denomination, our lifestyle. There are so many ways that we esteem ourselves that in the greater scheme of things they must seem so petty to our God.

"Blessed be the name of God forever and ever, to whom belong wisdom and might. He changes times and seasons; he removes kings and sets up kings; he gives wisdom to the wise and knowledge to those who have understanding." 

Daniel 2:20, 21

The title of the blog makes it painfully evident of my current struggle. I am waiting for the verdict like a grieving parent in a courthouse. Pacing, trying not to fret, bingeing, waiting to be swept away in a tidal wave of emotion regardless of the outcome. I have no control over what is happening in my body. I do not know if I am carrying around an empty sac waiting for the pain of a miscarriage to hit me, or if there is a heartbeat yet to be detected that will save this baby's life and our hearts from breaking. 

I do not know if a literal pergatory exists, but I feel that we can experience a season in pergatory on earth. Through health issues, financial crises, times of war, battles played out through the judicial system, and further scenarios, we find ourselves trapped on a highway between heaven and hell. It's either good news or bad news. No one recalls enrolling in the waiting game, but they are incapable of walking away from the game board until the final round is played. Yet it's an interesting paradox because though time seems to stand still, the world doesn't stop, but keeps orbiting. It isn't always possible to bring everything to a halt to catch your breath. You have to keep going about your day because life doesn't stop until it's over. It's hard to reconcile. It's hard to find the balance between not giving up hope, but protecting your heart from disappointment too.

I have painted a very bleak picture, I know. I can only imagine how I must be bringing an innocent reader down. I am not leaving off here in the "depths of despair" though, because at the beginning I listed all of the reasons why we can faith when we are in a pit. So I will defend the last two paragraphs by saying that this is how I feel, nor I am alone in this trial. I know Kevin must be feeling something quite similar. This is the truth. King David, who was said to be a man after God's own heart, never gave pretence to the thoughts and emotions that plagued him in dark hours.

"Have mercy on me, Lord, for I am faint;

heal me, Lord, for my bones are in agony.

My soul is in deep anguish.

How long, Lord, how long?

Turn, Lord, and deliver me;

save me because of your unfailing love.

Among the dead no one proclaims your name.

Who praises you from the grave?

I am worn out from my groaning.

All night long I flood my bed with weeping
and drench my couch with tears.
My eyes grow weak with sorrow;
they fail because of all my foes."
Psalm 6:2-7

This will be the third loss to grieve in a row in three months. I may not be as symptomatically devastated as David, but my heart intimately knows what he is describing. By appearances, I am able to function normally and resume life as though nothing has happened. I can even convince myself for several hours at a time. I am grateful that I can. Then something will jog my memory and I realize that I still have not quite let go yet. I don't think I will be able to until our baby's fate is confirmed. 

But in the meantime and beyond, "I will not die, but live to declare the works of the Lord." I know the pain in my heart, I see the tiredness in my husband's face, the concern in the eyes of family and friends, and I will call it as I see it. Not only that, I will look up from this pit and see the light above and have faith. I will face tomorrow and trust because I have no choice. There is nothing I could conjure up, no plot I could scheme that will fix anything. This situation is not hopeless, but I recognize that I have no control over what lead us here or what awaits around the bend. However, I do get to decide how I let this affect me. In honest truth, I want to fight and wrestle with God. But the Lord is not an unjust God. Jesus knows our heart and feels the same pain and sadness we feel. The story doesn't end with me clinging to Kevin and sobbing. That might be my reality for the next few days, but each day will get better and there is hope in tomorrow. 

"Yes, my soul, find rest in God;

my hope comes from Him.

Truly He is my rock and my salvation;

He is my fortress, I will not be shaken.

My salvation and my honour depend on God;

He is my mighty rock, my refuge.

Trust in Him at all times, you people;

pour out your hearts to Him,

for God is our refuge."

Psalm 62:5-8

This is where I am rooting my trust; from here I will let it grow.

⁷ 

Click here for Part 2 (Miscarriage Confirmed)