One Week

It's time. I've held off writing this post for as long as I can. Here I go, probably about to share way too much. But that's what I do. It's therapeutic. The truth is, even before I had a blog I wrote things down to clear my head, get things off my chest and just be able to see it all in a different light. You may not know this, but I enjoy reading what I write as though I'm an outsider. I like to look at my life through other people's eyes. I do the same thing with my home. After I clean it or rearrange it, I walk around pretending I'm someone else seeing it for the first time and trying to imagine what they would think or feel. Strange? Probably. But I never claimed to be normal. I have been silently writing this in my head for a week now and I thought that today, on the one-week anniversary, it was finally time to share.


One week. It's crazy the difference a week can make. So much can change in a week. So little can change in a week. A week can take you closer to something as well as lead you farther away. That's exactly how I feel this week. So close to some things, yet so distant from others. Hana's birthday party is Saturday. How did it get so close? On the 26th she'll be three years old. How did that happen? Thanksgiving is just next week, then Christmas, New Year's, you know the routine. One week. Exactly one week ago today I was probably still asleep at this time. I had written an entry the previous night set to post early the next morning thanking all our veterans. There is one in particular I hold very near and dear to my heart. Since it was Veteran's Day, Joe would have the day off and he had taken the next day off as well, giving us a much-needed four-day-weekend together. I was in such a good mood that morning. Joe had an early doctor's appointment where he would receive his flu shot, we had a scheduled OB appointment and then we were to come home and get ready for a garage sale we had planned and advertised for Friday and Saturday.


It was a normal morning. Joe headed out for his appointment as I got Hana ready to join us at the OB. She was playing with a "magic wand Tinkerbell left for her," which was essentially one of those glow sticks someone gave her at Halloween. While I was making breakfast she bent the darn thing and got "magic glow juice" in her eyes and mouth which sent her into a screaming fit. I threw her in the bath tub fully pajama'd and washed her eyes and mouth out. I then made her drink a glass of water and proceeded to see how much magic juice was missing (not much at all) and then read to find that it's non-toxic yet can cause a severe burning sensation for a few minutes. It seemed to have done exactly that, but we were soon back on track, yet I was left feeling like a horrible mother for even letting her play with the thing...which is what I do. I suppose other moms have those same feelings from time to time, well, some more and some less than others. Things were just as they always were, yet they were somehow different. And I could feel it. Actually, I had felt it for some time, I just tried to ignore it.


That morning, as I washed the dishes from breakfast, I closed my eyes and said a prayer. I prayed to have a "normal" visit at the OB. Up to that point I had been numerous times, but only the prior visit was considered my first "normal" visit. If you need to play catch up, please read this post: Peekaboo. That post sums up all that we had gone through in this pregnancy. Then I forced myself to write this post: Random Catch Up. Why did I force myself? I realized that I hadn't written much about my pregnancy and I felt weird about that, so I thought I needed to share. And those twitches and flutters I wrote about? Those were real. I felt them.


We arrived at our OB visit with time to spare, but this time it felt different. How? I don't know. We usually get in the door fairly quickly and this time it seemed to take forever. I found myself nervously watching the clock and I don't know how many times I asked Joe if we showed up at the right time. What was taking so long? There was nothing in particular that took so long, the point is, I just felt something. At 10 :30 (I know because I was closely watching the clock for some unknown reason) we were finally called back. The nurse and I joked about how it seemed like I was much further along than I really was because I had been in to see them so many times already. We talked about how it seemed like I was further along than 10 1/2 weeks, yet it also seemed to be going by so fast. She even said this to me, "You've got to feel some relief that in less than two weeks you'll be out of your first trimester!" She led Joe, Hana and me to our room and excitedly told us that we were going to get to hear the baby's heartbeat at that visit...and we waited to see the doctor.


He came in, chatted with Hana (he did after all deliver her and she knows her was the first person who ever laid eyes on her), asked how things were going and then had me lay back so we could listen for the heartbeat. He couldn't find one. I felt myself twitching around, grunting and making faces. Why? I don't know. He listened intently but never found it. He assured me it was normal at that stage. "The baby is just so small it's hard to find right now," he kindly reassured me. But I just looked desperately at Joe. I remember glaring at him so hard I could've bore a hole through him, but he was a little preoccupied with Hana, so he had no idea. The doctor led us to a couple chairs where we began to wait for an impromptu sonogram. "I want to give you the comfort of at least seeing the heartbeat," is what the doc told me. I felt empty, yet hopeful. As we waited Joe asked if it was painful when the doctor was pressing that thing on my tummy trying to hear a heartbeat. He had noticed my twitching. "Yes," I answered. But honesty, it wasn't really physically painful. It was, however, very painful. Joe had questioned me many, many times over all these weeks as to why I've been so negative and high-strung about this pregnancy. I never had a reason for him other than it just felt different. He thought I was just having control issues. I do like to be in control and I become high-strung when things feel out of control to me. My pregnancy with Hana had been picture perfect and this one seemed to be one small hurdle after another. I had been reassured so many times that every pregnancy was different so I held on to that. But the truth was it just felt different.

I remember desperately talking to God saying, "All I wanted was a normal visit!" I was silently angry that every time I had been to the doctor there was always a next step. With Hana things just went as they were supposed to, but this time something else always had to be done. More blood work, low hormone levels, things that could be a bad sign, but weren't necessarily. "This could just be normal for you," is what I was always told. "It's just so early in this pregnancy." After all, I was two months pregnant with Hana before I found out and I began searching for a good doctor closer to home, so this doctor wasn't even the one that saw me early on in that pregnancy. But in that pregnancy, I hadn't seen any doctor this early on. So we didn't have anything to compare this pregnancy to other than the way I felt, and as I'd heard a million times...every pregnancy was different. But no matter what feelings I may claim to have had, nothing could have prepared me for what was about to happen.


We entered the sonogram room and I plopped myself on the table as the sonographer light-heartedly asked, "What's going on now?" We joked about how I hoped this kid was just getting it out of his or her system and all these little problems weren't a sign of his or her future temperament. She put the wand on my belly and I was instantly, nervously elated. I immediately saw that little blob there in the dark hole of my uterus (if you've ever had a sonogram, you know what I'm describing). I remember joyfully exclaiming, "Wow! You can really see the little fellow now!" Because the last time it was difficult to find. I noticed her joking had stopped and she asked, "Now how far along are you?" "Should be about 10 1/2 weeks," I answered, and she followed, "When was your last sonogram?" And I answered, "I guess about 4 weeks ago. I believe the last one measured 6 weeks, 4 days." Too many questions, I thought to myself. She then told me to go empty my bladder and remove everything from the waist down.

As I was heading into the restroom, my doctor walked in and began asking her questions. When I came out, we tried a more "in-depth" sonogram (sorry for the inappropriate pun). We were told the baby only measured 8 weeks and then she zoomed in for the heartbeat. There was none. I closed my eyes and tried to escape. Or maybe I tried to wake up. I had never had an out-of-body experience before, but all of a sudden everything looked like a dream and it was as though I could see myself lying on the table hearing those devastating words as the doctor turned to me and said, "I'm sorry. Your baby did not continue to grow. There is no heartbeat." They all tried to approach me to console me and hug me but I fled to the bathroom and fell to the floor. I sat there, naked from the waist down and cried for what felt like an eternity but was probably only a minute. I had to compose myself because Hana was there. When I walked out they were all there waiting for me saying, "I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry." I couldn't even look at Joe. I could only look at Hana as she pulled her sunglasses out of my purse and put them on. Was she trying to hide? Was she trying to escape? I wished I had my sunglasses.

We were escorted down the hall to the doctor's office where we had to discuss what would happen next and I was given a couple options: DNC or let nature take it's course. If I let nature take it's course, there was no telling how long I would wait. I can't describe the feeling I felt as I wondered how long I had been walking around with something not alive inside of me. I'll never forget that feeling. The other question was, if I waited, when and where would I be when it happened. When what happened? I had to ask what exactly would take place. Very bad cramping and lots of bleeding. What if I were out and about with Hana? How traumatic would this be for me, for her, for whomever else might have to get involved? I asked the doctor what he recommended and he said a DNC. We talked it through and set the appointment for the following morning. "The sooner the better," he said. "You need to begin healing." How did this happen? Just that morning I was happily pregnant. I even had a bout with nausea on the way to the doctor. I still felt very pregnant, but I was taking extra hormones because my levels had been so low, so I'm sure that played a big part.

Looking back, I realize that my body was giving me signs from the beginning, I just wanted to ignore them. I mean, the very first time I went to the doctor I should have been about 7-8 weeks along and they couldn't find a gestational sac. It was assumed I was only 4 weeks along at that time. I was told it was fairly common for a woman's cycle to be off, but almost a month? I'm sure it's happened to others, but I know my body. It didn't seem right from the beginning.

I had that procedure done and now life is going on almost as though nothing happened. But it did. Something happened. Something big happened and I'm doing my best to cope with it.

I've learned to be even more grateful to have such a wonderful doctor because I have since heard horror stories of "letting nature take it's course" and even one lady whose doctor gave her a pill to "help it along," which led to a traumatic experience followed by four months of bleeding. I merely went to the hospital where I delivered Hana, which is about like a resort hotel and I had as good of an experience as I could have. All the doctors and nurses, but mostly the anesthesiologist kept everything as upbeat as they possibly could have and I actually left there feeling guilty that I almost had a good time. I know that sounds strange, but they sang silly songs to me as they wheeled me down the hall and then I was put under only to wake up to my wonderful husband and sister-in-law. Obviously it wasn't a "good experience," but it was much less traumatic than I had imagined. Now, the emotional roller coaster I've been on since then is another story.

Last week at this time I was pregnant. This week I'm not. I feel robbed. I feel singled out. I feel punished. Logically, I know it's common. I know I didn't do anything to cause it, but I can't help feeling that I did something wrong. Was it because of the glow stick incident that morning? Silly, I know, but it has crossed my mind. I keep searching for a reason and I can't find one. I'm holding on to God's plan. I know things weren't right from the start and my poor little baby just wasn't developing as he or she should have. I know this, but I find it hard to swallow. I need a reason. I need to blame someone or something, but I know I can't. I'm sad, I'm angry, yet at the same time I'm overcome with joy and know how incredibly blessed I am to have Hana. I took it all for granted. Getting pregnant, having a great pregnancy and then being rewarded with such an amazing daughter. I tried not to take it for granted, but I did. I never knew this kind of pain. I've never felt this kind of loss. It's indescribable. I lost someone that I loved more than words can describe but I'd never even met them. I don't know if it was even a boy or a girl. I never got to lay my eyes on his or her precious face. I'm numb yet overcome with emotion.

Hana says, "Momma, why do your eyes keep getting wet?" "Momma, why do mommies cry?" "Momma, everything will be okay. Here, I'll hold you." She is such a sweet little girl. She is such a blessing and for her I am forever grateful. If I never have another I'm over the hill to have her. How do I answer her questions? For now, Joe and I have decided to just stop talking about the baby with her and that seems to be working. But knowing her and her incredible brain and memory, the time will come where I'll do my best to explain it to her in a light-hearted way, letting her know that God needed our baby in heaven before we got to meet him or her.

One week.

But for now, I have a spectacular third birthday party to plan for one awesome little girl and that's what I've delved into. This is sure to be the best birthday party yet! And in one week it will be Thanksgiving, then Christmas, then New Year's...life goes on. So much can change in only a week, yet so little changes as well.