Tuesday, June 7, 2016

before my appointment today.

There are a few things I want to share before I go today for my heartbeat appointment. 

In order to keep this from being a marathon post, I’m going to jump ahead to my first perinatal appointment at 14 weeks. 

I had no idea what to expect, but it was at that time that I realized my OB is not a baby doctor. OB’s are women’s health doctors. In the middle of all my research, I learned that it’s the perinatal doctor who specializes in babies in utero so in going to the baby doctor, I had high expectations.

My perinatal specialist was pretty thorough. He tried to see her heart multiple times, but it was still too small to get a good look. And he took his time to find the gender so I could know. He found that she did have only one umbilical artery and that the lymph node in her neck dead ended. 

I did expect a 3D or 4D ultrasound because that’s what I thought perinatal doctors used. Not true. 

He was kind, gentle and gave us his cell number if we wanted to ask more questions even if it meant in the middle of the night. But-- he was the one that said I wouldn’t need to see him again. When asked how long I had with her, he said that sometime around 20 weeks we would lose her.

Tears came slowly as our appointment came to an end. They fell from my eyes quietly. It wasn’t till we exchanged ‘goodbyes’ and both wished we’d met on better terms that I put on my sunglasses and couldn’t stop the outpouring of hurt and tears. 

If you know me, I’m smiling and putting on the best face even in times of despair. I put on a show for others so they never see me hurt. Unless it’s my husband and children. I’m real in front of them. 

Chris wanted to hug me, hold me and comfort me. He was hurting too. But all I wanted to do was get to the car. Now. Right away. Once inside the car, I felt safe enough to let the sadness out. And I did. 

While driving home, Chris stopped to buy me a coffee and even tried to encourage me to go in the coffee shop with him. I didn’t want to. I didn’t want anyone to even suspect that I had been crying. As if it mattered. Sometimes I care more than I should about what people think. 

While Chris was buying me a coffee I pleaded to God to give me as much time as possible with my daughter. A daughter. A blessing. I wanted a girl so badly. 

So many memories of when I was present for my nephew’s birth came rushing back to me. A sweet 19 week old who had passed away before he was supposed to. 

I knew that the longer my pregnancy progressed the more I would be able to see of her as my baby when I held her, even if she wasn’t alive. 

I also knew that she wouldn’t be considered a baby if she died before the medical world had decided when she was or wasn’t yet a baby. I felt she had to be considered a baby. As if the medical profession’s timetable justifies her being a baby. 

We came home and decided to tell all the kids since they knew about the appointment and why we went. They cried. They hurt. They were sad. Chris cried. I cried. We spoke about the hope of a miracle and the hope we have if she passes away. All while still trying to digest it ourselves. 

I was grieving. I was lost. And that same day, I realized it was God who made her like this. He was knitting her together. He was controlling her details. Undeveloped lymph node and all. 

I was angry. Angry at God. How could he do this to me. Someone who has trusted Him with their family size, who gave their life to follow and serve Him. Was this my blessing? And yet at the same time, He was the one I cried out to. The One I sought for comfort and understanding. 

I have read several of Angie Smith’s books and one thing that stood out to me was that God is not scared of us being angry with Him. Or if we shake our fists at Him. He loves us. We are His children. And I know how much I love mine. Then how much must He love His. 

I was crushed and blamed the One who I felt did this to me and her. And I was running to the only One I knew could help me. I sank into a dark place of solitude and grief. Only allowing Chris and my children in.


c smith said...

So many of us who read your blog are hurting with you. We love your baby and we love you and we are praying for your miracle. I can understand exactly how you must feel; angry, helpless and desperately hurting. I pray that the fact that your grief is shared is some comfort.

carrie said...

My heart is heavy. Sending my love & prayers

Delilah Medina said...

Praying everything went ok today and your heart is at rest.

Daphne P said...

Thank you for sharing this journey. I found your blog years ago when you put a link on KellysKornerBlog.com for one of her Friday link ups and have enjoyed and been encouraged reading your story.

This part of your story breaks my heart, but I completely understand your feelings - especially in your blog "For Tonight." I carried a baby to full term almost ten years ago who was born not breathing and with no heart beat. The doctors were able to revive his heart, but the shock and frustration at the situation were very real. Recently, I have starting writing and sharing from my grief journey if you are interested in reading about it: www.carrythemforever.com

I am praying for you and your family as you walk this journey out. I pray for God to give you the strength to take each next step.
In Him,
Daphne Petrey

Vivian said...

Praying this morning...praying for all the situations you are facing. Yes, we blog readers have come to know your family and we love you so much.
thank you for sharing and allowing us to pray for you.
sending much love and prayers.

Rachel and Family said...

I am so sorry for you and your family. I have said a prayer for you.