Not meant to be

Now that I've started the story, I guess I need to finish it. The pea in the pod was not destined to become more than that, just a pea in the pod. Now, that title of my post a few weeks ago is even more fitting than I could have thought. What was once a pea in the pod is not a pregnancy anymore. 10 weeks was all it lasted.

Again, I debated about whether to post, or how much to say. This blog is a sort of journal, but it's really not a personal one. It's more of a place to post pictures for grandmas and say what we're doing lately with a few opinions and some venting here and there. I know that my previous blog did spread the news around, so I feel like I need to do the same now. I don't want to call each individual person I know and have this conversation 20 times. At the same time, I don't mind talking about it, I just don't know who knows what and who doesn't at this point.

As it turns out, the ultrasound photo I posted would turn out to show the healthiest week in my pregnancy, if I had a healthy week. That was the only week that significant growth was measured, that a heartbeat was measurable, and that the technician didn't send me out of the room with a dead silence that you can only interpret in one way.

I have known this day was coming for weeks. I have been prepared. I have had probably at least a dozen different reasons for instinctively knowing that this was not a healthy pregnancy. Still, having "miscarriage" on my reproductive resume was nothing I thought I would ever have.

I have had a total of 5 ultrasounds with this pregnancy - once a week since I first found out I was pregnant. None of them sent me away without a feeling of uncertainty (which is why I was called back again and again to that little dark room.) The last two were the hardest to watch. It didn't take a rocket scientist to tell that the embryo had shrunken, not grown, and that the heartbeat was fading to almost nothing. It was only a matter of time.

That has been the hardest part - the time. Every week that has passed has felt like a month. Every day, I wondered if this would be the day I would start bleeding. Would this be the night David has to take me to the emergency room and we have to call some poor friend out of bed to come stay with the kids? I quit working at the barn and I quit making any big plans because I had no idea when this certain disaster would hit. I hated to give up hope and start wishing for a quick end, but the reality of the facts forced me to start doing that.

Thankfully, I was granted an easy and quick final chapter. Between last week and this week, sometime, the baby (can you even call it that?), the embryo, the mass of cells, died. Even though I knew that news was coming yesterday and we clearly saw it on the 5th ultrasound, the spoken words from the doctor were still hard to take. David choked back tears and I eventually let go in the parking lot.

My choices were few. Do nothing, wait for nature to take it's course (more waiting? more uncertainty? more emergencies in the middle of the night?), or have the surgery. Surgery next week? Surgery tomorrow? Even though David said "I'm really busy tomorrow." I said "I'm not, tomorrow is great."

I feel really really lucky. I had so much control over the last part. We had a wonderful friend take the girls today. David was with me. The procedure was unbelievably short and painless, and I actually didn't feel too terribly bad afterwards either. The doctor gave us a lot of reassurance that I made the right decision to have surgery today. He said after seeing how much tissue there was, that I would have ended up doing an emergency surgery anyway. When I first woke up from the anesthetic, I didn't know where I was or why, but in that same instant the reality exploded in front of me and I had my turn to lose it one more time. Since then, I have really been ok. Close friends have called, family has called and sent flowers, and Julie even sent us home with dinner when we picked up the girls. (Should I say that David was insane and KEPT our appointment to feed the missionaries tonight? I told him he should just give them money to go out to dinner, but he really wanted to do it. He tended the kids, cleaned up the house, and cooked and served dinner while I hid in my room. He deserves lots of husband and daddy medals today.)

There are many more details I could share. I'd rather share some with certain people and others with other people. But I will say that I am ok, things are going to be ok, and we know we'll try again.

ps- I wanted to say thank you to everyone who has helped us through the past few weeks. I know that many have prayed and have offered their service. Even though the outcome wasn't the best, I know that prayers were answered and I know I made it through because of them.