Even When it Hurts Like Hell

There is a unique PAIN that comes from preparing a place in your HEART for a child that NEVER COMES.

David Platt

Everyone’s journey to motherhood looks different. It is our unique story that only we can own. Mine looks hard. It is messy. But in the end, it was victorious.

In December 2011, after a few years of marriage, we decided it was time to start “trying” to have a baby. We were both so ready, having waited until the timing was “just right.” I stopped the hormonal birth control I’d been on since High School and we just jumped right in, even after I asked my doctor if we should wait and he said absolutely not.

To our surprise, we were pregnant right away.

Amazing! We were so very excited. My lifelong dream of being a mother was finally coming true. Fast-forward to the end of March, when I started spotting. Now I know that some women spot or even bleed through their healthy pregnancies but not me. And I knew. It was this soul-shattering, gutteral, disasterous void that came over me immediately. As I sat in the shower sobbing like a child, my husband helped me get ready to go welcome my newborn nephew. He was beautiful. And I was in love with that little boy. As the night went on the spotting turned into what seemed like something of a crime scene, and a sweet nurse encouraged me to go to triage.

When you pass through the waters, I will be with you; and when you pass through the rivers, they will not sweep over you. When you walk through the fire, you will not be burned; the flames will not set you ablaze.

Isaiah 43

As we sat in that waiting room, I started feeling really dizzy and cold. We waited for what seemed like a lifetime before we had our dreaded ultrasound. I just knew it was over. But there on that screen, and filling the deafening silence was the sweetest little heartbeat I have ever seen. “151 and super strong.” They said I was pregnant with twins and must have passed the other one. Such an odd state, feeling so much joy over my nephew, grief over our lost baby and trepidation with hope for this little one still hanging on.

I wanted answers. I asked for labs, and if I should be on bed rest. No, no, no you have a healthy baby in there, they said.

SO. MUCH. BLOOD.

When I went to work that Monday, my boss promptly sent me home. What she told me will stick with me for life. She said that if I choose work over motherhood from the beginning, I just might spend the rest of my life trying to make up for it. So from home, I started to lose our second baby. And my doctor confirmed it. I wanted to punch him, tell him “see? I told you!! Told you we should have waited to let the birth control get out of my system… I told you I should have been on bedrest!” But I just cried as he helped our second twin out of my birth canal. I will spare you the gory details but I dont have to put them here for you to know them.

We don’t test you for problems until you’ve had three or more consecutive, recurrent “abortions”

American College of Obstetrics and Gynecology

Why do they call it a spontaneous abortion? I have even had a “doctor” call our babies just plain ole “aborted.” In my mind, aborting means to stop it abruptly and purposefully, doing everything you can to stop something that otherwise was in fast and furious FORWARD motion. So no, you medical “expert” you, it was not an abortion. Call it what it is, please. A miscarriage, a loss. Anything but that A word. And as if losing the twins wasn’t enough? It has to be three? I digress…

Fast forward to that time when I stopped listening to everyone else and got myself some counseling. I wasn’t ok. I wanted my babies. I wanted answers. I blamed me and only me. I wanted to go to sleep and wake up with it all gone. Despite what others thought I needed to do, I went. And she was wonderful. She encouraged me to use my medical knowledge to do what needed to be done. So I did. I met with a fantastic Reproductive Endocrinologist. He did every test under the sun. He was kind, apologetic, and was on our side. As he told us that my endometriosis had become severe and that I would need surgery, I knew in my gut that wasn’t our path. I squeezed my husband’s hand and he responded with a squeeze of agreement. We weren’t going to do the HSG, laparoscopy, IUI or any other invasive procedures until January. We just wanted to see what natural methods there were….SO I researched. Like, ALL the things, all the time. And I jumped right into an extreme healing diet, lifestyle and detox. And I had the first regular period in my life that next month. On his birthday, I told my husband I was pregnant. There was no naive joy. No uninhibited celebration. Just anxious excitement. My progesterone levels were still somewhat low so they offered me supplements. I took them. And we welcomed our oldest son exactly ONE YEAR to the day we lost our second twin. God will do it, won’t He? Man I was smitten. Every day of the pregnancy was a gift. I welcomed the symptoms, the aches and pains. As I worked full time in a stressful job, that little boy hung on. I look back on that night with a grin because we barely made it to the hospital. He really wanted THAT birthday. It was so healing.

Between our first and second sons, we waited a few months and started trying right away. We had a very early loss and just kept going. No counseling, no condolences, just one foot in front of the other. Then came our middle little. God healed two “holes” on his heart before he was born, and I will forever be grateful. Those two boys are an absolute joy.

In about the same time frame, we started working on number 3. Well, our third earthside baby that is. When I found out she was a girl, I truly didn’t believe it. And honestly it wasn’t until she was born that I was finally convinced. Her birth was so special, and I was surrounded by loving people. Good thing, because the “doctors” I saw while pregnant with her told us all sorts of death-breathing things. She would have CP if we didn’t induce, she has microcephaly, she is in the second percentile and could die at birth, yada yada yada (insert eye roll here). Don’t they know the God I serve? He can and WILL supply all our needs and desires of our hearts. A second opinion showed one fully-cooked, perfect 70th percentile girl with “tons of hair” according to the perinatologist we saw.

That little girl’s first birthday came, and as her brothers tried to steal her cake, I felt it. That familiar strong cramp… followed by bleeding. SO SO much bleeding. Want to know the worst part? I told no one. I kept this one all to myself. We had had three babies in three years, and before I even found a good way to tell my husband I was pregnant, I had lost the baby. Don’t do that, friends. Tell someone. At minimum, the one who got you pregnant in the first place! I did tell him later.

That brings us to Spring of this current year. We decided our littles needed another little. Four and then “we are done!” So we did what we always did- charted temperature, timed our baby dancing, and expected it may happen quick. Well it didn’t, it took a couple months. On my birthday, I announced to him and my closest friends that we were FINALLY expecting. I had wanted another baby for two years. I was thrilled to be giving our youngest a baby sibling.

a baby makes LOVE stronger, the days shorter, the nights longer, savings smaller, and a HOME happier

unknown

We told the kids. We told our family. Somehow, this time, we weren’t ruled by fear and we just blissfully enjoyed it, as though it was the very first time. Miscarriage wasn’t even on my radar as I jumped into rearranging carseats and going through old baby stuff. We were to have a fourth and that was that.

5 weeks. 2am. I awoke to a bright light shining in my eyes. I thought maybe the kids had a flashlight. As I opened my squinting eyes, the light shifted away and vanished. Obviously I couldn’t go back to sleep, so I got up and did what every newly pregnant momma does in the middle of the night- pee! And there it was. I always wonder how on earth I can pass these babies so quickly. Its like my body just hits the eject button. I was devastated. Tummy to the cold bathroom floor, I cried like I never have before. I felt like a failure. All the other angel babies came to my mind and it was just too much to bear. But I did. Because I had to.

SO. MUCH. HURT.

My friends and family surrounded me. Lifted me up in prayer. It was amazing. But it didn’t bring my baby back. It didn’t cut that super tight rope of tension around my neck. And it certainly didn’t make the un-telling of the news to our kiddos any easier. But it did help me stay with Jesus. It helped my husband grieve in his own way as my friends just showed up and cared for me.

This is what people dont see on social media. The real stuff

As I write this, I have just woken up and reminded myself that Im no longer pregnant. No, not with that birthday baby I just mentioned. The new one. The one I became pregnant with right after that one. Despite the timing being off (on purpose), we still conceived. And I told my sweet husband on HIS birthday. A double rainbow baby. The comeback kid. Yes I told everyone. Yes I went to the doctor for progesterone right away. Yes I had dark pregnancy tests. And yes everyone was thrilled. Sure we told the kids. I mean, this is our miracle baby. I was so glad that we wouldn’t have to try for much longer or have to wait. What a blessing.

YESTERDAY

Yesterday morning I woke up and there was blood. I knew what it meant. I tried so hard to stay positive and just speak life over this baby. I told my husband so medically and in such a matter-of-fact tone that I hardly recognized my own voice. Its like I had detached myself and was now speaking of one of my patients. Giving report to the second shift. Except It was me. Just little ole me. It happened so fast. the contractions were so strong. Within a few hours, I had passed seemingly everything.

God help us through it.

A sweet friend of mine told me this last night as I was sobbing alone in my car in the driveway….

You got this, Danielle. You have three healthy, happy babies inside who need you. You can do it.

So I did. I wiped my face, rocked my babies, answered their questions after telling them that this new baby went to heaven too, and then I hid in my closet for an hour. It felt good. I praised the Lord. I sang through the growths on my vocal cords because to our Lord, it all sounds sweet. I sang this one song by Hillsong for the billionth time but with the emotion only the present PAIN could bring.

Take this mountain weight, Take these ocean TEARS, hold me through the trial, come like hope again…

Lord my heart burns only for you, you are all I want, and my soul waits only for you. And I will sing til the miracle comes

Even When it Hurts, Hillsong

So fellow mommas, and dads, even when it hurts like hell, even when the tears are like an ocean and the weight of the world is on us, we must look up and receive the strength only He can provide. Our babies, those around us, God, they all need us. So sing His praises through the storm. Because as they say… the darker the storm, the brighter the rainbow.