A different kind of hurt...

We went for our first OB appointment after being released from our RE yesterday.  She did cultures and then a transvaginal ultrasound and confirmed my darkest of fears....our baby had died about two weeks prior.  There was no heartbeat and our little one was measuring at 8 weeks and we should have been 10.  I can't explain the ominous feeling I had going into yesterdays appointment and I only ever mentioned it to the Facebook group that was created for women due the same week as me from the What to Expect app. They all told me to think positive and that it was just our history that had me feeling like something was wrong.  Our pastor told us yesterday that that was just the Lord whispering to me to prepare me for what was to come.  I really wish he would have yelled.  I wish I would have started bleeding so I wouldn't have had to come to the realization that I was miscarrying while staring at an ultrasound screen showing my already deceased little one.  I wish I didn't have that doctors voice in my head say "I'm so sorry, but we don't have a heartbeat."  I wish my body could have started this process at home rather than blindsiding me at what was supposed to be a happy appointment.

I'm really struggling to understand why this happened.  Of course, Bill and I are both playing the blame game.  He blames himself for stressing me out and because he needs weekly testosterone injections that I have to give him which are potentially harmful to the baby if I come in contact with the medication.  I blame myself for missing that extra folic acid supplement, for switching to night shift at work and throwing off my sleep pattern, for worrying that something was going to go wrong.  I just naively thought that we were exempt from miscarriage because we had struggled so much to get pregnant.  That the Lord wouldn't add insult to injury and have us go through that.  I'm struggling now to figure out what the lesson is in all of this.  What good is supposed to come of this?  Are we going through this for a purpose?  The only explanation that I can come up with is that this happened to draw us closer to God and to our church.  We've been so caught up with life, school, home buying, etc. that we aren't as involved as we were in the past with church activities and I feel drawn back into it now.  If a closer relationship to our Lord is the silver lining to this cloud than I'm 100% okay with that.  

I've returned all the pregnancy books I borrowed from the library and I'm packing all the maternity clothes I bought at Goodwill away today.  I haven't decided what to do with the memories of this baby.  The journal and pregnancy calendar I started, the onesies that the grandparents bought, the keepsakes that we've picked up over the past few weeks, the ultrasound pictures of our little angel.  Do I box them up and save them?  Will it ever stop hurting enough to look at them again?  Will I ever want to?  Or do I just toss them all in the trash and try to move past this?  I am comforted in knowing that I will someday meet this little one in heaven but that comfort isn't enough to keep the tears away today.

Our D&C is scheduled for Friday morning and the doctor who will be doing it wants to see me in the office tomorrow afternoon.  I already spoke to our RE's nurse who said that after the procedure they will monitor my HCG levels until they're back to zero and then we can try again with my next cycle.  Will I be ready to?  Will this hurt go away?  And if we are blessed enough to get pregnant again, when will it be okay to get excited?  When does the worry of miscarriage stop?  I'm so afraid of missing out on enjoying the early weeks and the joy of being pregnant because I'm terrified of loss.  

I'm told that this pain will lessen with time and that when we're finally holding our rainbow baby, the pain will be bearable.  I find hope and comfort in that thought and will continue to take it one day at a time until then.