Tuesday, May 27, 2014

Lessons I Learn as a Young, Mormon Mom 007

Disclaimer:  There is mention of blood and feminine related problems.  Be warned before you read on!  This is most definitely a TMI post.  

Lesson 7: Life is a miracle.  And it is to be cherished when successful, and mourned when lost.


The past 10 days have been the hardest ones of my life.  When I get to what happened you may have thoughts of confusion, perhaps you'll think it is silly.  How can this be the hardest, most distressing thing ever?  I promise that everyone who has been through what I have been through and worse, will understand. 

On May 18th, 2014 I began the process of miscarrying our 5th baby.  We hadn't announced that we were expecting, and weren't planning to until we found out what we were having, or until people just figured it out.  We were SO excited to be having another little one to add to the bunch.  We were starting to really settle into our little family life, and I finally figured out just how much joy there is in motherhood, enough so, that I finally began feeling fulfilled in my role.  All the while, my husband and I kept this wonderful news to ourselves, at least, we tried, but it would not matter.

I remember the thoughts I had as I started bleeding, I wanted so desperately for it to go back in where it belonged.  I didn't want this to be happening.  I knew what was happening, but I still prayed for a miracle.  I went to a midwife friend and she couldn't find a heart beat.  Spencer gave me a blessing, and it was vague but I was promised that my body would do what it needed to do. I went to a Dr. the next day and she did an ultrasound that confirmed that our little bean was no longer with us. No longer 'progressing' is what the doctors say.  And as much as I love how sensitive she was, it was all a matter of fact.  At least she did say it was a baby.  And our baby had stopped progressing around 9 or 10 weeks gestation.  I was supposed to be between 12 and 14, so there was cause for minor concern, but we weren't positive how far along I was either, so we decided to give my body time to do what it needed to do.  

Walking out of the Dr.'s office was the hardest 5 minutes of my life.  All I heard after the confirmation that I was indeed miscarrying was a version of Charlie Brown's teacher talking to me.  All I could think of was that sweet little baby that was no longer with me.  All the dreams and plans Spencer and I were making to welcome this sweet little one into our family.  We had been talking about it for 7 weeks at this point.  The morning before I started bleeding we were making plans of how to tell our kids.  We were deciding when and how to tell our friends and family.  We were deciding how the school year would go so we could take time to adjust to the new addition. We were discussing names.  We were dreaming about how much our kids would love being so close.  Spencer was proud, and I was too.  We were having another baby.  The excitement was overwhelming at times.  I am not sure why I was most excited this time around, perhaps it was because I finally felt like a mom.  I am finally enjoying this phase of my life for what it is, and no longer stressed about what it isn't.  My kids are everything to me.  And I finally understand that I am more than everything to them. At least, I understand it as far as my life experience allows.  

I called my mom on the way to the car.  I cried.  My baby had died, that is what it felt like to me.  I was a mess.  We took our kids over to my parents, and my dad gave me a hug, and I cried some more.  I lost our baby.  I lost our baby.  I lost our baby.  I couldn't believe some people actually do this on purpose.  Somehow the knowledge that some people electively terminate pregnancies made it difficult for me to acknowledge just how empty I felt.  Am I over-reacting? I was torn between, 'oh it's not that serious, you were only in your first trimester,' and 'you just lost your unborn child, your baby died, and it's ok to cry.'

Spencer and I went to dinner with our nearly 10 month old, Lacy.  And we ate crap, because we felt like crap.  I was so grateful he came to the Dr. with me (thanks to my mom for watching my kids).  I had needed him there.  He is amazing to stay by my side.  He loves our babies. He loved the one we lost.  He was sad too.  We know Heavenly Father is with us through these moments.  We have faith that this little spirit will still grace us with their presence.  Just not yet.  That doesn't take away the void, or the emptiness, or the uncertainty I feel at this moment.  That doesn't take away the pain of the loss we are carrying.  

When we picked up our kids I explained to our 5 year old, Alice, what had happened.  And she understood.  I was amazed.  Never underestimate the understanding of a child, or how their love can carry you through very difficult times.

The next day Spencer went to work, and I started cramping more.  And Alice, our 5 year old, continued to wrap her head around everything in her little mind.  Grandma took the two oldest with her for the afternoon, one of my best friends and her sister came to spend the afternoon and evening with me, and Spencer and I were able to get out of the house with his brother for a bit. It was a glorious distraction.  I needed it to prepare me for the next day. 

The next day Spencer decided to work from home.  That is when the real cramps and contractions hit.  It was horrible.  I felt like I was in labor but worse, because I knew there would be no baby, not because it hurt more.  Actually I compare it more to the after birth pains I felt after my 4th.  The ones I would get while I was nursing.  horrible.  painful.  I could've thrown up.  I started losing clots and bleeding quite a bit more. Then, around 5 pm, I lost so much of everything at once.  And the little tiny baby made it's way out of my body.  Perfectly preserved in the water sac.  And as I held this in my hand, I just lost part of my heart. I was amazed at what my body was in the process of doing, but sad that it had stopped doing it. I called Spencer up and we had a moment where we humbly accepted what had just happened.  He helped me get the bleeding under control and we carefully set our little baby aside.  We wanted to find a quiet moment to really understand what just happened. Impossible to have during dinner time.  So he helped me into the shower, and went back to our 4 littles and checked on me periodically.  I will admit, had I not been so involved with previous deliveries and aware of the amount of blood loss involved, I would have seriously panicked.  I was able to stay calm, and stay sharp.  Skills I learned from having 3 of my 4 without pain meds and one of them at home.  Awareness I gained from asking questions and learning all I could about this process.   

I would describe the bleeding and pain to be similar to that of having a baby, but not anywhere near the same.  I know later miscarriages are far worse.  What I experienced was more like an echo to childbirth.  Emotionally, it was terrible.  

Throughout this past week I have had amazing friends reach out and share their own experiences.  I have had so many acts of kindness performed.  Treats brought. Texts sent. And phone calls.  I haven't had much time to blame myself for anything.  

The Atonement is becoming so clear to me.  Christ is with me during these moments.  It is His love that will fill the void right now.  Only He can fully comfort me at this time (with the help of others of course), and only He knows exactly what I am going through.  

I have many things to be grateful for at this time.  I am grateful that I have 4 beautiful babies to help ease me through this loss.  I am grateful for a husband who fully appreciates how difficult this is for me. I am so grateful for the Gospel that teaches me that if I lose a child in this life, I will still have a chance to raise him/her when Christ comes again.  I am grateful that I am sealed to my husband and children for time and all eternity.  I know we will be together again, if not in this life, then in the next.  I am so in love with my little family.  I am ready for whatever The Lord has in store.  And I will hold my head up high.  I have Faith that what is meant to be, will come to pass.  God is with me through these trials, He is there to lift me up, and I need to let Him do His part.

So to anyone that has suffered loss. May we find peace amidst this trial.  May we feel the warm embrace of a Father in Heaven who is lifting us up to our feet.  May we find the strength to move forward. And along with all of this, it is OK, to mourn the loss, to cry, and to even be a little angry for a little while!

 "Not only does the Atonement of Jesus Christ overcome the effects of the Fall of Adam and make possible the remission of our individual sins and transgressions, but His Atonement also enables us to do good and become better in ways that stretch far beyond our mortal capacities. Most of us know that when we do things wrong and need help to overcome the effects of sin in our lives, the Savior has made it possible for us to become clean through His redeeming power. But do we also understand that the Atonement is for faithful men and women who are obedient, worthy, and conscientious and who are striving to become better and serve more faithfully? I wonder if we fail to fully acknowledge this strengthening aspect of the Atonement in our lives and mistakenly believe we must carry our load all alone—through sheer grit, willpower, and discipline and with our obviously limited capacities.
  It is one thing to know that Jesus Christ came to the earth to die for us. But we also need to appreciate that the Lord desires, through His Atonement and by the power of the Holy Ghost, to enliven us—not only to guide but also to strengthen and heal us." - Elder David A. Bednar   (Read the whole talk HERE)