Letting Go

I had hoped to title this post "A Tiny Flutter" or "Growing Strong" but neither of those titles would be fitting. Last Monday I began to have some bleeding. Zach and I rushed to urgent care where the doctor examined me. He was rather confident that the "threatened miscarriage" I was experiencing would progress but with limited equipment, he could not be sure. He advised us to make an appointment with OB in the morning. That night was burdensome. I knew something was not right, but wanted to stay hopeful. I called OB the next day and told Angela, the nurse, that I hadn't had any more bleeding since my exam the night before. She said it would probably be ok to just keep our scheduled appointment for Friday, but to notify them if I started to bleed again. Sure enough, I called Angela again on Wednesday morning. I was having recurrent bleeding. My doctor, Allison Sampson, moved my ultrasound up to 1:00 that day. I knew that this appointment could potentially be the most joyous or dismal day of my life. Either way, I was ready to know something for sure. The past eight days had seemed like thirty and I was weary from wondering.

The result of our ultrasound was clear. There had been no growth in eight days. At "11 weeks", the embryonic sac was still measuring at six or seven weeks (relative to which doctor was interpreting the pictures), and there was no heartbeat. My HcG levels were 11,000, a confirmation that we should be seeing much more fetal development. We were told that this pregnancy was no longer viable and that our doctor would discuss our "options" with us.

The meeting with Allison was as good as that sort of appointment can be. She was so sensitive to what we were going through. I could tell she really cared. With her guidance, I decided to miscarry naturally rather than induce a miscarriage medicinally or have a D&C. This process was extremely painful, not what I was expecting at all. It wasn't until the physical aspect was over that I could really begin to deal with the emotional aspect. The excitement and anticipation of the past month were now gone and I was left with sadness. Just pure sadness.

I truly believe that if God allows something, there is glory in it. One of the things I struggle with on a daily basis and have been working on surrendering to God, is fear that something tragic will happen...something that will alter my life dramatically. For the past few months my recurrent prayer has been, "Lord, protect Zach and I from anything but your will." And here we are...hurting because we will never hold this baby in our arms or kiss its little toes, or smell its forehead. But if God can somehow be glorified in our pain, either now or in the future, we will praise him for that.