My day started with me trying to leave for work. I was excited to get going because as soon as the day got started at work, the closer I would be to seeing my baby for the first time on the ultrasound. I went out to the car and tried to turn it on and the car wouldn't start. I sat there trying over and over to get the car started. The engine wouldn't turn, the battery was dead. I went in the house and told Adam that the car was dead in the driveway. He told me to take his car and leave work early so I could pick him up for the appointment. I off-roaded Adam's car around my car in the driveway and thought "It's okay, today can only get better!" I was 10 minutes into my drive when I drove through a torrential down pour. Again I thought, "It's okay, today will only get better!"
I remember getting to work, going to a staff meeting, and walking across campus with my co-worker, Sandy, brimming with excitement about going to the doctor for the first time as a newly pregnant mama. I told her about the dead car battery and how thankful I was that I had something to look forward to that day. We got back to the office and the nurse called to get all my information to save the doctor some time. I closed my door so nobody would know I was pregnant and started to share with her my medical history. "See you this afternoon, Mrs. Vodicka" was how our conversation ended. 10:54 a.m. I was leaving at 11:00. My ultrasound was at 12:30.
I drove home, got Adam, and we laughed and planned for what we would do after the appointment to celebrate the baby. Maybe we'd have lunch and go pick out a teddy bear. It was all so exciting.
We got to the office and were called back right away. They started the ultrasound externally and told me they were going to have to get a better look. I needed to change for the internal ultrasound. I came back and the ultrasound tech started looking again. Her expression was cold, concerned, and she was silent. I felt like she was ruining my moment. I wanted to see the baby and to see some emotion other than concern on her face. She asked me how I was feeling. I asked her if she even saw a baby. She finally turned on the TV screen and showed Adam and I the baby. A perfect baby shaped baby, perfectly still, and upside down. Adam and I looked at each other and cried tears of joy. The ultrasound lady turned off the TV. No pictures, no words. I asked her if everything looked okay. All she said was the doctor would read us the report. I looked at her computer and saw the baby's gestational size was 9 weeks 2 days. We were 9 weeks and 4 days so I thought the baby was the right size. Why was she so mean?
We got back into see the doctor. It was my first time seeing this particular doctor and poor Adam's first experience with an OBGYN. She buzzed in, sat down, asked me how I was feeling, and answered all the new mommy questions I had Googled off pregnancy websites. Then she turned to me and said "During the ultrasound, we were not able to locate a heartbeat". Her words hit me like a ton of bricks. She said she would be back in a moment to do an exam and gave me time to change. Adam and I stared at each other. What did she mean? Could they find one later? What if we were to go back tomorrow and try again? Adam kept telling me it was okay while I sat there trying to figure out what she was trying to say. She came back in and started asking pretty pointed questions about cramping, bleeding, back pain... Adam stopped her and asked "How concerned about this should we be?" His eyes were filled with terror and for a minute, he looked like a little boy to me. He was wearing his Cleveland Cavaliers basketball t-shirt and the look of fear and panic, made him look so vulnerable and so not like the Adam that I was used to. She said about 40% of pregnancies end in miscarriage and started to tell me what to look for. But she also said we'd go back in two weeks to see if they could find the heartbeat. HOPE! I thought, surely they made a mistake and we'd go back and we'd see a heartbeat. She asked me a few questions about my family history related to miscarriage and told me I was going for blood work. We left the room, scheduled our appointment to go back 16 days later, and headed to the lab. We didn't say a word, we just held hands. The perfect day, the day that was only suppose to get better had turned out to be anything but.
Most of you know how our story ends. We went back, 16 days later only to confirm what we were most afraid of. September 22nd. Worst day ever #2. We saw the doctor that morning, she said surgery was needed that evening. She handed me the box of kleenex and that was it. They took us out a back door so we wouldn't walk through the waiting room upset. That night I went in, and then it was over. The road to healing had to begin.
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| I guess I have always had a bird thing going on with babies. We painted a momma bird flying to the baby in the nest. The daddy bird is looking over his family. |
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| Naarya- meaning Child of God |
As we prepare for baby girl, I can say that many of the decisions that I have made have been deeply meaningful and very intentional. When people have asked why we don't post about our pregnancy on Facebook, it is because I remember what sorrow I felt when I looked belly shots, ultrasound pictures, and happy pregnancies progressing without heartache. It's a personal thing for me, and nobody is right or wrong for choosing to post. Just a preference thing for me.
My Aunt Patti is throwing my baby shower for my family. When we were talking about dates she mentioned September 22nd because it was the day after my cousin Danny was getting married. We thought about other days in fear that the weekend might get complicated. What I didn't tell her was how much that day means to me. One year after having a D&C alone in a hospital with Adam, I am so thankful that I will be with the women in my life that mean so much to me while celebrating the LIFE growing inside of me. I can't even express how humbled I am to have the opportunity to be carrying our little girl and to one year later be celebrating her on what was one of the hardest days of my life.
I have wondered with this pregnancy if I could ever love our baby girl. If it would be safe to allow myself to get excited. How do I protect my heart while bonding with the little one growing inside me? I decided that to get caught up in my what if's and not allow myself to love my little baby would be to limit the profound and deep love that God has for me. This pregnancy has been so wonderful in the ways that it has taught me to love, grow, and surrender. God continues to shape my identity as a mother. I can't say that I am fearless, and that each trip to the doctor is a breeze, but I am certainly grateful that God has allowed me to let go and surrender to Him and His goodness. Despite the pain of the last year, I am overwhelmed with the gratitude of the blessing to be, thankful for the experiences I've had, and striving to be the best mama I can.
