Thoughts of Loss

I have just miscarried another child. Yes, I know, some of you are rolling your eyes, thinking: "Doesn't she know what birth control is?" and other ideas along those same lines. I don't use birth control methods for various reasons. We have tried NFP (natural family planning) and it has worked out okay in the past, but to be effective, you have to know your body's normal routine. And that's where I miscalculated. But enough about that.

I took a test several weeks back that showed positive. Mixed emotions followed: We had just moved, just bought a house, Faith is only 10 months old.... I wanted more time before trying for any more, IF we decided to have any more children. I love my children, there's nothing I won't do for their best interest. And I would love to have a houseful, if that's what God wants for our family. I struggled for a few days with His timing.

Then I went through the excitement of another little one in my tummy. The joy of watching "me" grow, waiting to feel the movements, picking out names, looking forward to the thrills a baby brings to our home. For 5 weeks I tossed the ideas back and forth in my head; crying one day, smiling the next. I wanted to take another test to be sure before scheduling a doctor's appointment, since I couldn't quite determine how far along I really was.

But on Memorial Day weekend, I began to miscarry. Nothing major, I thought... I've been through this before. Given a couple of weeks' time and I'll be better and things will be back to normal. Day 2 of my miscarriage, I began to feel faint. Just before heading to bed, I felt my head start to spin and my vision blurred. I sat down, then laid down on the kitchen floor to regain strength. When I felt better, I got up and readied for bed.

Two and a half hours later; just after midnight, I woke up to go to the bathroom. When I finished, I headed back to the bed. My vision blurred again, so I stopped against the door jamb to rest my head and steady myself. I remember, thinking - if not saying - Dennis' name, asking for his help. That's the last I recall.

I woke up to a thumping sound and Dennis calling my name. The lights were all on, he was on the phone calling 9-1-1 and I was lying on the floor feeling bruised and sore. I had passed out and fallen to the floor, hitting the wall with my head as I fell. A bucket (sitting ready for when I had felt sick earlier in the day) was knocked over as I had landed against it, bruising my shoulder. The thumping noise was me having a seizure, head bumping the wall with each jerk. This is what alarmed Dennis enough to call emergency, I have never before had a seizure. Oh, don't get me wrong, he offered to call several times through the day, when I was so weak I couldn't get up. My legs ached badly as well, which was concerning me. But I told him, no, I'd be fine. That is, until I couldn't... didn't respond when he called out to me.

EMT came, in the middle of a Saturday night. No sooner had they begun to check my vitals that the ambulance pulled up. We had a crowd of 5 strangers in our bedroom at midnight! They asked me quesions while they checked my blood pressure. The kids were all still asleep (thank goodness!) as I recounted the day's activities and my health over the past pregnancies. I was told to go to the hospital, I needed to see a doctor. So, Dennis woke up the kids and readied them to go while I sat on the bed, confined to my room by men who were determined to keep me there until Dennis could escort me out the door. I felt fine; weak, but fine! They figured I wasn't in a life-threatening situation, but at the same time, I couldn't even grab the diaper bag to make sure we had plenty of diapers and that my identification was all in it! So, I sat and I waited; awkwardly trying to chat about pregnancies and hoping to convince them that I would be a survivor and they would leave my house and let me be. Still, they waited.

We got the kids in the van and I followed suit. The ambulance driver offered to follow us to the nearest hospital. He disappeared in the night just after pulling out of our drive, so we continued on our own till about halfway there. Dennis asked me again if I wanted to go. I said no. "I know what is wrong; we'll sit for who knows how long in the ER waiting to be seen. They'll check my vitals and such again, tell me, yes, I was pregnant and did miscarry. They may keep me for awhile since I am also dehydrated. That's just it! I am dehydrated... I don't want water, I haven't drunk but maybe a glassful of any liquid all day and that is the reason I feel weak and fainted. I just want to go home."

He pulled into a grocery store parking lot, ran in, bought a pack of flavored water and we turned around and headed home. I drank one bottle before getting home and put the rest in the fridge while he settled the kids back into bed. I was asleep within minutes of my head hitting the pillow at 1:30am and I slept until 6am Sunday morning. I felt better, but not well enough to go to church, so we all stayed home. I drank water like it was going out of style, feeling better throughout the day. My legs still ached, but I could tell the worst was over. It was just a matter of recovery.

I sit now, 4 weeks later, and realize, I've lost yet another child. A baby I won't get to name or hold. No knowledge of gender, no idea what life would have been for him or her. Again, I am faced with mixed emotions. I am sad at the loss and yet, relieved that I don't have to make the choices of how to work in baby details once again so soon in our lives. Another treasure has made it into Heaven to wait for me until I get there. Sitting at the feet of Jesus, meeting my other two and so many others who have gone before us. It truly makes Heaven that much sweeter!