The day our hearts broke

This post was written many days ago and I hadn't planned on posting for a few months. At the moment, I don't see what the benefit of waiting is; and if I wait too long, I fear I'll never post it. Though I'm hesitant, with Andrew on board, I'm ready. I'm ready to share this story and part of our lives.  

The day before we planned to exclaim our great news more publicly, our hearts broke. The day before my calendar read, "12 week-mark!"... ended in pools of tears. Yes, we were expecting. Our hearts and lives forever changed by our sweet growing baby. All seemed so perfect. Too perfect perhaps. With months of trials and heart ache leading up to getting pregnant (as we had discovered that I have fertility troubles-a topic for another day), our growing little one was such a welcomed addition to our family. Words cannot express how joyous I felt, how grateful we were. It was difficult to contain our excitement. Friends and family celebrated along side us. Little "t-rex" (as my parents nicknamed the babe) was loved. Adored. Cherished. This week was a huge week. Monumental. I would have made it to the "safe zone"- 3 months. All prior ultrasounds and blood work had been perfect, all was looking great. Or so we thought...

After 2 co-workers tried to find heart tones during 2 different weeks without success, I began to worry. I realized that all of my nausea had disappeared. This, I thought was great news. Turns out, it wasn't. With these two puzzle pieces put together, concern set in. 

I was in the middle of a work stretch. I couldn't turn off my mind to sleep. Woke up early and found my sweet husband- who just embraced me. We both knew. It was all too clear. The fact that he agreed and just held me while I cried made it more real. He usually would tell me I was over-reacting, or all was fine. But he knew and I'm glad he responded in this honest, heartfelt way. After a few hours of crying, I made it to work. Had a difficult time focusing, tried to doppler myself for heart tones. Nothing.

Called my OB in the morning. Went in with Andrew by my side. Confirmed. Tears. Heartbroken. Many tears. 

Was sent in for a second confirmatory ultrasound. More tears and new images to replay in my mind.

Per the doctor, we had lost our little baby weeks prior. My body has yet to realize this and respond. Part of me is gone. Part of my heart is missing.

I replay each and every week, each day, in my mind. Was it something I did? Was it something I didn't do? Though they tell you, and I  know full-well, that it wasn't anything along those lines, I still can't stop thinking that way. How could I? A mom wants to protect, nurture. But I lost my baby. We lost our little love.

I share this message because this is real life. I am not alone. Many of you reading this have had miscarriages of your own, losses that broke your heart. It's so very common, but that doesn't make it any easier or less hurtful. Society is quiet about miscarriages, but this is a part of our story now. This loss is a part of who I am, and forever will be. God entrusted this life to us and took it away- a trial that we will get through. This I know.

My comforting Lord, loving husband, and thoughtful friends & family are getting me through. Yes, I see pregnant people all around me and it sometimes makes me sad. Working on a birthing unit, women and babies are practically my life. I think of Christmas day (our due date) and I instantly tear up. I think of all of the pages I wrote in our little baby book, and each of the weekly photos we took and I lose it. But, I know God has a plan. I know that our sweet baby was welcomed by our heavenly father with open arms and held tight. I think of my granddaddy watching over him or her for us until we meet again. There will always be a special place in my heart for our first precious little baby, for those 3 months we spent together- though some of them were just in spirit.

Rejoice in hope, be patient in tribulation, be constant in prayer. Romans 12:12

In the midst of my hurt, I have hope. In the midst of my sadness, I have joy. In the Lord, I find my strength; In the Lord, I find comfort and peace. I know God has a plan, a great plan. I will be patient as best I am able. And, though it's difficult to comprehend, I know that losing this baby was a gift in some way or another. I have a new place in my heart for women who have experienced losses and I will take no future single day of pregnancy for granted. 

 Each day has been painful. The thought of starting over is more than exhausting. But it will get better, and the Lord will give us strength.

More than that, we rejoice in our sufferings, knowing that suffering produces endurance. Romans 5:3

**A few photos from the past 3 months with our little growing babe **
Telling Andrew & catching him off guard with the pregnancy news was so much fun.


A couple of "weekly snapshots." My belly was just starting to grow and show. 
 
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 I want to reiterate that I don't share this for sympathy. I share this because this is a part of our story. Our family's story. I've always wanted this blog space to be an honest reflection and documentation of our lives, not just the happy and exciting things, but the hard things too. I don't believe that this baby and pregnancy experience is to be ignored or pushed under the rug. This baby was indeed a blessing for 3 months of our lives. Three joyous months. It's amazing how much you can bond with someone you've never met...
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