It’s been a long time since I blogged. I guess I’ve been kind of checked out for a lot of the time, but I’ve had some other things going on as well. I warn you ahead of time that this post is not going to be very good. It’s just to catch you up.
First of all, thank you to everyone who has sent me a card or an email. Thanks for the phone calls. Thank you to my sweet church family who brought us meals, and thank you to my dear, sweet friend, Heather, who sent me flowers.
A week ago today, I had to have a D&C. I guess when I miscarried, there was still some stuff left behind. So, I went in for surgery Monday morning. My best friend, Amy, came to visit with her kids the prior Wednesday, and was supposed to leave for home on Monday morning. When they scheduled the D&C for Monday, Amy changed her plans to leave later so she could go to the hospital with me. I was very thankful that God worked out the timing for Amy to be there with me. My mom watched all five of our kids for us. Thanks, Mom.
Chris worked the previous night, and didn’t go to the hospital when I did. He got a few hours of sleep during the time it took for me to get checked in and stuff. Amy Jo was with me for the couple of hours before the surgery. She laughed at me when I tried to get the stupid, blue hat over all of my curls, and she took a picture of the crude gesture my hand involuntarily made due to the monitor taped to my middle finger. She sat on the bed with me, held my hand, and prayed for me. I was nervous, scared, and terribly upset about the whole thing, and I can’t thank God enough for sending my best friend to be with me on such a hard day. Of all people, she was the one I needed to be with me, not only because she’s my best friend, but because she had been through it and knew how I was feeling. It helped to have her there. Chris got to the hospital about fifteen minutes before they wheeled me out of the pre-op room.
The surgery went well. I don’t remember any of it, of course, but it didn’t take long. After they wheeled me away from Chris and Amy, the last thing I remember is being pushed down the hall and some large, bright lights overhead. When I woke up, I was lying in the recovery room. I kept coughing, and the tip of my tongue hurt. I think it got pushed against my retainer when they put the thing to keep my airway open in my mouth. The nurse said something to me when I woke up and started coughing, and, unfortunately for me, my ability to talk came back before my ability to filter. I started crying and telling the nurse about how I was supposed to have a baby. She patted me and acknowledged that it was a hard day for me, told me they would take me back to my husband and friend soon, and gave me a kleenex. I laid there crying for about thirty minutes until a nice man with very few teeth took me back to a room, while telling me what beautiful, brown eyes I have.
The nurse who was with me next gave me crackers and a Coke, patted me again when the crying started, and told me she’d get my family for me. She looked into the hall and said, “Well, we found one of them.” It was Amy Jo, and I was ever so thankful to see her. When she came in the room, she found me crying like a baby, holding a cup of coke. She climbed up on the bed with me, held my hand, and prayed over me. Her prayers and presence were calming, and I soon remembered I hadn’t ate since six or seven the evening before. I took care of three packages of crackers, while the nurse got me some pain medicine, and Chris found his way back to my room. When the pain meds kicked in, the crying stopped, and I believe I gave Chris and Amy a detailed account of Operation Ajax, in which CIA agents staged a coup in Iran and took all their oil. I was a bit loopy, but I was aware enough to notice the look Chris gave Amy over my head when I said, “The Brits were awfully shady.”
After I came home, everyone took care of me, and people from church brought us dinner. I stayed up late into the night crying all over Amy, and ruined her plans of leaving Tuesday morning. She stayed an extra day, and left on Wednesday morning. I was thankful for all the time she was here. We had a lot of good times prior to the D&C. We took the kids hiking, my mom watched all our kids when I took Amy out to Knoxville for a late birthday celebration, we went jeans shopping together, and spent a lot of time just sitting around talking and enjoying each other’s company.
To say last week was difficult would be an understatement. I thought everything would get easier when it was finally over. The whole “miscarriage” thing lasted for over a month. They kept telling me I was losing the baby for real, and then my levels would go up. There was the ectopic scare, and then the actual miscarrying. I thought the D&C would bring relief with the closure, but it was just a new kind of pain. When it was all over, I was a mess. It got worse after Amy left, and I found myself having a hard time doing anything. Just getting out of bed seemed like asking too much of me.
The last couple of days have been a tad bit easier, but not much. I’ll be fine, having an okay day, even somewhat enjoying myself, and then, out of nowhere, I’ll think of something and be terribly sad and depressed. I know it’s a process. I know it takes time. Right now, though, it just still really hurts.
I miss my baby. What a lot of people don’t realize is that I didn’t just lose a pregnancy. I lost a lifetime with my baby. I lost holding it…I lost smelling it…I lost nursing it…I lost knowing it. I lost every good thing that I know having a baby entails. Having three kids already doesn’t do much for me in lessening the sting of losing my baby. It just means that I know exactly what I lost. I know God will work all of this for my good. I know He has a plan. I also know that He knows just how bad it hurts right now. I know He loves me anyway, and He understands my pain.
I’m not so good at leaning on Him when I am hurting. Honestly, I guess I prefer physical arms around me and audible words to listen to. I find comfort and strength in His Word, but I am only just learning to depend on Him for comfort. This time in my life hurts…it hurts so bad I can barely breathe sometimes…but I know He has a purpose in my pain. Maybe it’s simply that I will grow as a person and as a child of God and learn to lean on Him. I don’t know his purpose. I do know, though, that I can trust Him. He is good…all the time.
I was so proud. It was a “that’s my girl!” moment.
