Empty Arms, Full Heart
There is only one single day a month... a 12-24 hour window that a woman can get pregnant. It is estimated that 50% of fertilized eggs never implant in the womb. With all those statistics, it is an absolute wonder that I happened to see a blue plus sign on my pee stick.
We somehow managed to get pregnant only four days before I usually get my period, a time that is usually infertile and well after ovulation. We were using the NFP method of family planning which is 99% accurate if you do it correctly. (Which I wasn't. I wasn't tracking my temperature in the morning because I was secretly hoping we would get pregnant.) Originally, we had decided to wait 6 months after getting married before trying for a baby but after 6 months, my husband wanted to wait even longer because he didn't feel emotionally or financially ready to enlarge our family just yet. His decision made me upset and fearful because I'm getting older and my fertility is passing me by. I didn't want to wait anymore. We took the positive pregnancy test as a miraculous sign that this baby was a gift from God and His will for us despite our efforts to delay pregnancy.
When I saw the blue plus sign I fell to my knees, shaking with joy and nervous excitement. I thanked God and I begged Him for a healthy baby. My sister had just miscarried only a week prior and I was terrified that it would happen to us, too, especially since I had just learned the shocking statistic that 1 in 4 women have had a miscarriage.
I had to wait three weeks for the ultrasound and every day leading up to it was torture. I worried that the baby was ectopic. I know that worrying is useless and doesn't help anything but I just simply couldn't stop worrying that something was wrong because I wasn't experiencing morning sickness (which only 50% of mothers experience but all the women in my family have) and I was feeling weird pain in my hips and side.
The day before our ultrasound there was a sprinkle of blood. Google said this was normal and 25% of pregnant women who experienced this went on to have healthy babies. I rested in that statistic.
The biggest relief washed over me and the brightest smile spread across my face when Audra (the ultrasound tech) said, "The yolk sac is in the right place in your womb, so that's good." The smile quickly wiped away when she added, "But I don't see a fetal pole."
My doctor Michelle explained, "Let's cross our fingers and hope that maybe it's too early and the baby is just too small to be seen on the ultrasound. Sometimes this happens. We'll do another one in two weeks. Go home and try to be positive."
I tried to have faith. I tried to believe that the ultrasound was too early. My "What to Expect When You're Expecting" app said the baby should be the size of a blueberry by now but the sonographer had seen an empty womb. Every bone in my body, ever fiber of my being longed for there to have been some mistake. I prayed so hard that the baby was absolutely fine and that everything was okay. I had begun affectionately referring to our baby as "Squirt" in my prayers and I fervently prayed for Squirt to be safe. Even though I desperately tried to conjure faith that Squirt was okay, I simultaneously wrestled with feelings which (perhaps were "mother's intuition") that Squirt was NOT okay. I felt guilty for doubting God's protection and healing power, but I couldn't shake the feeling that the life I felt inside me was snuffed out.
Within two days of the ultrasound, I was experiencing a lot of abdominal cramps and I had a deep, uneasy but inevitable feeling that I was about to miscarry that very night.
I put on my cutest outfit and I went to church as I normally would on a Saturday night. I asked everyone for prayer. When I came home, there was more blood in my underwear than just a few drops or what you would call "spotting." I sat on the toilet as the blood leaked out and sobbed into Brent's shoulder one of the most intense heaving ugly cries of my life. He held me and rubbed my back and said nothing. Nothing had to be said as we both knew what was happening. Then he drew me a foaming lavender bubble bath with epsom salts and essential oils and poured me a tall glass of tawny port dessert wine, my first taste of alcohol since the day I saw the lines on my positive pregnancy test. I drank the wine as I swallowed down all my crushed hopes and dreams for this baby that was never to see the light of day.
The next day he spoiled me by taking me to one of my favorite restaurants, Longhorn Steakhouse, and shopping at TJMaxx and Target. I wasn't in any pain that day. It was to be the eye of the storm.
The next day there was far more blood that I ever anticipated. Why does no one tell you how much blood to expect?
Everything I had googled associated with a miscarriage said there would be minor cramps and minor blood loss equivalent to a period. This was waterfalls of blood gushing out, soaking through my menstruation pad, leaking through my clothes, and dripping down my leg. This was pain like I had never felt before. I've never experienced labor so I can't speak on that, but what I was feeling was probably the next level down from that.
It was late at night and the on-call nurse said that I should probably visit the ER because I might be hemorrhaging by the sound of how much blood I was losing. So I called my sister to get her advice and she said it might be best to visit the hospital, just to be sure.
Doctor Bryce at the hospital said that the amount of pain was normal. The amount of blood loss was also normal. I was going to be okay. I still had "products of conception" in my womb and it would probably pass naturally within a few days.
Two days later, I felt the gestational sac slip out of me and into the toilet like a slippery fish. I suddenly felt completely empty. I put my hand over my stomach where Squirt once was living and I dropped to my knees and let out a scream of sadness. Brent came running and held me as I cried.
As I rest my hand on my empty womb and think about the life that should be growing there, I ponder how fragile and brief life is. I think about the chubby cherub cheeks that I never got to kiss and the bright blue eyes I never got to look into. I never got to see who Squirt would be.
I've waited for 37 years to be a mother. I waited because I didn't want to have a baby with an abusive drug addict. (My first husband of nearly four years.) I waited because I wanted my baby to have a good father.
I was once a foster mother for almost three years. Some people at church even said "Happy Mother's Day" to me and I was handed a pink carnation, even though I wasn't a "real mother" and would one day have to give these children back to their parents or someone else who would adopt them. I had the opportunity to adopt them myself but again, I waited because I wanted my children to have a good father.
Now, after waiting for so long, I finally tasted just a sip of motherhood on my tongue and then it was cruelly stripped away from me.
Even though Squirt wasn't planned, that baby was so loved and so wanted. There is a physical ache in my heart left behind along with questions and fears such as: What if I can’t get pregnant again? What if I experience a loss of life again? I don't know if I can go through this again.
According to my research, Squirt was a "blighted ovum" which means he or she stopped developing very early and never really made it to the embryo stage and that's why Audra (our ultrasound tech) discovered an empty yolk sac. We don't know why, but it may be due to chromosomal abnormalities in the fertilized egg.
Most women who've had a blighted ovum go on to have successful pregnancies. Just because I've had one miscarriage doesn't alter my chance of having a healthy baby in the future. I have a 60-70% chance of having a healthy baby next time which is not completely comforting odds but at least it's not 50% I guess.
I had a name all picked out if Squirt were a boy. (Not that Brent was exactly on the same page but I was praying he would come along.) The name means "God is good." What I know about God is that:
1. HE IS GOOD. Sometimes bad things happen but He didn't cause it.
2. He is omnipotent. Yes, He has the mighty power to stop bad things from happening but sometimes He chooses not to intervene.
3. He is sovereign. His will cannot be thwarted. He works all things together for our good and His glory.
4. He is with me. He will never leave me or forsake me.
5. He is the Creator and sustainer of life. He fearfully and wonderfully knits together every baby in the womb. He has a plan and purpose for each life. For whatever reason, our baby was supposed to be with God before we ever got to meet this side of Heaven.
At the chiropractor the other day, a woman at the front desk came over to me and said in a hushed tone with all the kindness in the world, "You really shouldn't be on the vibration machine when you're pregnant," and I had to tell her that I'm no longer pregnant. Her eyes grew wide as she replied, "Oh my goodness, I'm so sorry! Can I give you a hug?"
The hug felt nice but the heartbreaking feeling cannot just be hugged away. If you are also experiencing a loss such as this, please know that you are not alone. You are loved. You are stronger than you realize and you will get through this. I don't know how long it will take, but it will be okay. If you're anything like me, you're wrestling with a lot of questions and maybe even your faith.
Why do bad things like this happen? If God is good, why does suffering exist?
This loss gives me a deeper longing for my eternal home. We are pilgrims living in a fallen world full of sin. When God created the world, He made it 100% good, but when sin entered the world, pain and loss and grief entered, too. Jesus, in His infinite love for us, came to restore life and one day bring us to be with Him where there is no more sorrow and no more tears.
God is the supreme ruler. He knows everything that is happening and He is in full control. Because He is mighty to save and nothing is impossible for Him, we can rest in the fact that He can handle it. If He is allowing something that we perceive as bad, it is ultimately for a greater good that we may not understand.
Did I Do Something Wrong?
The loss of my baby was not because of something that I did wrong. I did everything "right" that you're supposed to do. I did not lose my baby because God is punishing me for some sin I committed. This is not the way it was supposed to be. God created the world to be perfect and because of our choice to disobey God back in the garden, things are no longer perfect. Suffering is not directly related to any particular sin we've done but because we live in an imperfect world.
It's not that I didn't speak enough "words of faith" over my womb. That would be giving myself more power than I have. It is God who is in complete control. It is His will that prevails, not mine.
"There is therefore now no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus." -Romans 8:1
Condemnation means punishment or penalty. When Jesus died on the cross, He took our condemnation upon Himself; He took the punishment that was due us all (1 Peter 3:18). All who believe in Him have eternal life (John 6:47) and are no longer condemned by God.
In a story found in John 9, the disciples asked Jesus, "Rabbi, who sinned, this man or his parents, that he was born blind?" Jesus replied, "Neither this man nor his parents sinned but this happened so that the work of God might be displayed in his life," and in that moment Jesus healed the man and opened his eyes so that he could see.
In one of my favorite stories from the Old Testament, Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego (formerly Mishael, Hannaniah, and Azariah) told the king, "Our God is ABLE to save us, but EVEN IF HE DOESN'T, we will not bow down and worship your idol." God saved them when they were thrown into the fiery furnace and not even a hair on their head was singed nor their garments even smelled of smoke. God didn't save our baby, but He COULD HAVE saved our baby. I don't understand why He didn't, but someday when I get to Heaven I can ask Him. I know that His decision not to save our baby made Him sad because He loves babies and He loves me and Brent but God has a reason for everything He does.