Gratitude Rushes In

There's a part of my brain telling me right now, "It's too soon to write anything!" But I'm still a little stunned, and I'm hoping this might help. 

Memorial Day weekend Adam and I found out I was pregnant again. It was a somber realization. I basically collapsed into his arms at a positive pregnancy test, took a deep breath, and sighed. There was no celebratory moment; Adam didn't talk to the baby in my belly like he has the other 3 times we found out I was pregnant. There was a gratitude for new life, but also, a very real understanding that this certainly did not mean we'd be holding a baby in our arms come February. 

Unlike the last pregnancy, I had no initial fears about this. It's probably due to what God did in my heart after the last one. I was nervous as any woman is with a pregnancy after loss, but my eyes were mostly on the Prize. The prize being Jesus, not a baby. Each night I got in bed, I thanked God for one more day carrying our baby. There was very little talk between Adam and I about the baby. He would ask how I was feeling. We'd discuss certain foods I was avoiding (lunch meat, excessive caffeine, etc). But no out loud dreaming of this little one. 

I stayed in a place of mostly thanking God that His ways are better than mine regardless of what happened, but I did at times beg and plead for a healthy baby. Confident that God's Word tells us to ask, I definitely asked. But I also asked for every part of our story to be used for His glory, whatever that looked like. 

Everything unraveled with the force of a wrecking ball on Monday. The loss happened so quickly, I wasn't processing it fast enough. I sat at my in-laws table for dinner knowing that life in my womb was ending. And I just sat there. I knew in the few hours before that it was likely I would lose the baby, but based off my experience in December, I assumed it would be slow. But I was wrong. 

Monday morning I woke up with a little bit of nervousness but mostly thinking we were fine. I went to bed a little shell shocked. Because of routine, I felt like I was supposed to be thanking God for something, but I had nothing coming out. Just tears. 

Because of the nature of how it all happened, the doctor wanted me to come in to be seen Tuesday morning. Adam was able to come with me, and the pain of an OB office while in the middle of a miscarriage is hard to explain. I had no bitterness towards the other women with life clearly growing inside of them. It was just reminder after reminder of what was not in my future. 

We quickly learned that I would need an ultrasound, and I sobbed into Adam's arms. It all feels so harsh but to have an ultrasound felt like too much. Because the doctor also needed to do a pelvic exam, Adam left the room, but he didn't know to come back in when she started the ultrasound. 

No whooshing sound signaling a heartbeat, just silence. No light flickering on the screen. Just an empty grey and white screen. While the doctor was relieved to see it empty (meaning no D&C was necessary), I wept. I stared up at the ceiling, unable to look at the screen for even a second longer. I didn't need any more evidence that I was not pregnant, no life was growing.

Because these miscarriages happened back to back, there's cause for concern. The doctor wants to do a 4 week series of blood work to try to get some answers. But answers or not, Adam and I feel like it's time to close the door. Of course, we changed our minds once. It could happen again. But with two healthy pregnancies and two lost pregnancies, things no longer look promising. 

Yesterday afternoon and evening, I felt retrospective gratitude. I'm now extremely grateful (in a different way) that I have Nolan and Isaac. I went and got pizza and popsicles. We had some dancing after dinner. It was basically a little party to celebrate the lives we do have. When they asked if they could watch Peter Pan, "Sure!" Because I can say yes to you guys, I'm going to (not every time, obviously). 

One of the hardest parts is surrendering the future of our family. We thought it would look like 5 or 6 kids. But right now we are thankful for the two we have. God can grow our family how He wishes. And the reality is, God could be done growing our family just the way it is. The thought that I'm just two years away from no longer having "littles" in our home is a little tough on my heart. 

Last night as I snuggled Nolan in bed, I told him that I loved being his mama. He replied, "I love being your Nolan." I held him a little tighter. I had a quick thought of the babies I'd never get to hold but dismissed it. Because I had Nolan right in front of me, a gift I wanted to cherish and savor in that moment. 

I know these boys will drive me crazy, but I hope every time I read this I'll remember. I'll remember to choose to look at them as gifts and tangible grace that I get to love and hold. 

"But I will hope continually and will praise you yet more and more. My mouth will tell of your righteous acts, of your deeds of salvation all the day, for their number is pasty my knowledge." Psalm 71:14-15