LOSS OF LIFE…..Miscarriage

I have always been secretly happy that I was one of the lucky ones that have been unscathed by the prospect of a miscarriage.  After all, I have four healthy and beautiful children, the idea of a miscarriage seemed foreign and impossible.  Yet, I am a person who has gone through the trauma of a miscarriage; I have lost a baby, a real person, my child. 

I knew that there was something wrong about three weeks ago.  I kept telling Robert that this pregnancy was different, but in my selfishness or my foolishness, I clung to the idea that I would not miscarry.  After all, this was our fifth pregnancy, isn’t it more common to happen in your first than your fifth?  Then, Tuesday November 6, 2012 happened.  I knew by the way that my body was responding that something was wrong.  I knew it was not normal to bleed and cramp the way that I was.  While Robert arranged for childcare, I drove myself to the ER.  This was not an easy trip.  It was hard sitting in the waiting room; it was hard being by myself.  Robert got there, but the aloneness of the experience was hard.  Finally they took me in for an ultrasound.  I had to go alone, hospital policy.  The tech would not tell me anything, but I knew the baby was gone.   Finally the doctor came in.  Your baby is dead, go home and wait for it to pass.  Seriously….this is it?

            Since I drove myself into the ER, I got to drive myself home.   I cried the entire way.  What was wrong with me?  How could I have done this?  Did I kill my child?  Robert stayed home from work with me on Wednesday, but I insisted he go to work on Thursday.  Thursday, November 8, 2012 is a day that I will always remember.  We had a big family lunch to celebrate Maggie’s 12^th birthday when the bleeding began.  It was 1:00, and the bleeding would not stop.  It was horrible.  Thank God for the clear thinking of my husband, I was going to drive myself back to the ER; he called his mom and had her take me. This was it; this was my time for losing the baby. 

            I lost a lot of blood.  I passed out at least twice.  When they finally checked me and took my vitals my blood pressure was 60 / 29.  This was not good.  I was exhausted.  I could barely keep my eyes open.  I knew things were serious when I heard ER doctor’s calling OR and telling them to get a room ready STAT.  I knew what STAT meant, I was not in good shape.    Yet, in spite of it all, I remained very calm.

            I think that this calmness came from several places.  First of all, I knew that God was with me and in complete and total control.  He also used the compassion of the medical staff.  The ER doctor grabbed my hand and told me I would be fine.  The doctor who started the blood transfusions (I needed two by the way), held my hand while working the IV line and told me that they would take care of me.  The OB doctor who performed my surgery is the one that I remember the most.  He came into recovery to tell me that they had taken the baby.  He did not call it a fetus or tissue, but he told me that it was my baby, a little boy.  That moment of non medical descriptions shall remain with me forever.  I was that baby’s mother.  I had lost a son, my child was gone, and he recognized that and treated me with compassion.

            There are moments when it takes all I can do to breathe.  I often feel guilty for having a hole in my arms, I know that I have four other healthy children to love; but my heart longs for this missing baby.   I feel guilty and ugly within my own skin, like my body killed my child.  In my head I know that this is not true, but sometimes grief tells our heart a different story.

 We chose to name our son Samuel which means God hears or God regards.  We felt that this was appropriate since God regarded him enough to call Samuel back to Heaven with Him.  I am still learning to navigate these waters of miscarriage, but there are a few lessons that I have learned in this short time.

  I know that God will never leave me and when He promises peace, He delivers.  I know what it means to look death in the face and feel no fear.  I know how empty my arms can feel, how it aches to just breath at times, and yet I know that I can chose to find joy in the little things around me.  I know that my Samuel is waiting for me in Heaven, and I know that he will know me immediately and KNOW that I am his Mama and I will finally get to hug him.  I know all of these things because I know the truth about who I am in Christ.  I am His child and He loves me more than I can put into words.  Knowing these things, I will continue on in my journey of miscarriage and healing.  I will look for the good.  I will hug my other children more.  I will always be the mother of five.  I will always be Samuel’s mother, and I will continue to say because of Christ: “It is well with my soul!”