In March of this year, Spence and I decided it was time to start our family. By the time we had a baby, I would be graduated with a master's degree and we already had a stable home to bring our bundle of joy home to. It was time. We knew we needed a baby, and now. Oh, how little and powerless we are. We tried for what seemed like years, but in reality was five months. Yep, by July we were going to be parents! On August 3rd I woke up to take a pregnancy test, certain it would be just as negative as they were the months before. But it wasn't! TWO LINES! And that was the moment I became a mom.
Spencer was less convinced. The next day he came home with five. count em. five. pregnancy tests and was insistent on taking all of them, just to be sure. But sure enough they all came back with the same results. And he became a dad. That Friday night he planned an extra special date for us. He took me to... Babies R Us! We walked through the store picking out all of the products that we would one day buy.... cribs, car seats, strollers and clothes, each one making us more excited than the last. Looking back, becoming a mom was exciting, but watching Spencer become a dad was one of the most mesmerizing things I've ever seen. In the weeks that followed he got the password to my Pinterest, picked out the perfect nursery for our babe, and researched names that he loved. A tender, protective, paternal side came out in him. I was falling more and more in love with every day that passed. But also, unfortunately, more and more nauseous.
By mid August, I was puking every half hour. I was so sick, I literally couldn't function. I would wake up, move to the couch and lay curled up in a ball for the remainder of the day. I could get a popsicle or piece of dry toast in if I was lucky, but most days I wasn't eating much. It didn't matter though. It meant I was one step closer to seeing my beautiful little baby. It would be worth every second of it once I got to see my sweet little miracle. Only seven and a half more months.
We told my parents the week we found out in order to get our health insurance all squared away, but during all this time of nausea, no one else knew. My father-in-law's birthday is August 29th, and we thought that would be the perfect time to announce that we were expecting to every one else. We made him the cutest little Happy Birthday, Grandpa card. The whole family got together and we couldn't have been more anxious and excited to tell everyone our big news! It was before our first appointment, but I was nauseous beyond belief, which apparently was a "sign" that everything was going good so we didn't think it was too early. August 29th was a Friday, and by Saturday morning my nausea was gone. Nothing. We spent the weekend in Park City, so I decided it was from being out in the fresh air. I didn't think it was anything. A friend once told me, "There are so many bad things going on in the world. We can't be expecting them to happen. Be excited for the good without waiting for the bad to follow. If the bad comes, deal with when it gets there. Not before." This thought came back to my mind when the nausea subsided, and I kept pushing forward certain that everything would be alright.
Then Tuesday came. Tuesday was a big day in our home. It was our first appointment with the OB and my first day back to school at BYU. I planned it this way. It was going to be a fun day full of wonderful news. We went in to the doctor's bright and early Tuesday morning. Our doctor, Dr. Walker, brought us in first of all to talk to us. We talked about hormones, acne, nausea, and then the fun stuff. Our baby was due April 14th. We had just seven more months to wait! After about an hour and a half appointment, we were beyond ecstatic to meet our little one. The final moments... We got to go in and hear our baby's heartbeat! We went in to the ultra sound room, Dr. Walker brought the screen up so we could see. And then there it was. Nothing. An empty sac. I remember the doctor using the word "debris" to describe the image. What was my beautiful little babe just moments before was now being called debris. I couldn't think straight. I became aware of the tight grip on my left hand. Spence was squeezing my hand, comforting me when nothing could. I was trying to be strong. I didn't want this woman who had just insulted me and my family to see me fall apart. But the tears wouldn't stop. She left the room and I crumpled onto Spencer's shoulder. And wailed.
I don't remember much else from that day. I remember getting some pamphlets on miscarriage, I remember Spencer saying a prayer to strengthen our family, and I remember crying through my entire day of school. The doctors wanted to run some blood tests to make sure I was miscarrying, but I thought the ultra sound made it clear. I waited two days for the results of the tests, preparing myself for the certain loss. I suddenly didn't feel pregnant anymore. I felt empty. I felt nothing. I felt like... debris. I decided I wasn't going to be vulnerable to these doctors anymore. I called the doctor to get my results, knowing what was coming. I remember saying, "I know my HCG levels went down, can you just tell me?" and the nurse replied, "Your levels went down." Closure. and then followed with "But not enough to indicate a miscarriage. Your levels were already so high that a small drop is typical in pregnant women at this phase of the pregnancy." WHAT? I might still be pregnant? You hear people talk about emotional roller coasters.... I think I was on the world's biggest. "We need you to come in for another ultra sound to make sure we didn't miss another sac, or that your baby hasn't grown to be visible now." So the limbo continued.
Monday morning we went in for the SECOND ultra sound. That came back with the same results. It was weird... I think we were both so drained at that point we didn't have a reaction. All my tears were gone. My heart was already shattered.
Within the week we lost the baby. The physical pain was intense, but nothing in comparison to the emotional torture. Any time I would see a baby, a pregnant woman, or any one under the age of ten, I would think of our baby. We should be experiencing that. We should be living those moments with our baby. I don't know if that will every go away, but time will heal the wounds. Time, family, friends, and our Heavenly Father will make it alright.
Throughout this experience, I have learned so many things. I have learned that God's plan for us is usually different than the plan we have for ourselves. And so much bigger. Spence and I read Hugh B. Brown's "I'm the gardener here" speech today. It is exactly where we are now. We think we are beautiful trees, but God has bigger plans. He cuts us down to make us something bigger, something more beautiful than we could have ever been before. We are cut down right now, nothing more than small stumps, but God cut us down to make us better. One day when we have a big family, we will look back on this experience with gratitude and understanding of what it made us.
I have learned that people are good and want to help in times of distress. I've had countless neighbors, friends, peers from school, family, and even strangers help me through this past week. Meals on days that I knew I couldn't cook, visits on days that I needed to talk, and prayers. Lots of prayers.
I have learned that gratitude will make all the difference. I am so grateful for a loving husband who knew what to do when our family was in distress. He prayed, he took our family to the temple, and he took care of his wife. I am grateful for the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints that I am able to be a member of. Because of it, I know I'll see my sweet baby again. I know I will have a chance to raise my child on the other side. I know that this pain I feel in my heart is only temporary. I truly believe that before our greatest blessings come, we are first faced with insurmountable sadness. I have to believe that a great blessing is on its way for me and Spencer. So it's okay for us to be sad today, but one day we will be alright. Me and him, we're going to be alright.
