"Some people come into our lives and quickly go; others stay for awhile and leave footprints on our hearts and we are never ever the same."
At the beginning of September, Juan Carlos and I were ecstatic to find out we were expecting a baby. It was a bit of a surprise, as I had been going through testing for infertility all summer. Turns out I was "infertile" almost the whole time because I was pregnant. It also explained why I was feeling tired and all around awful for a lot of the summer... I was glad to have an explanation and even happier to have a baby on the way. When we found out, we weren't sure how far along I was, but a couple weeks and several appointments later, we were finally given a due date of April 1st. I had my first ultrasound at 14 weeks.
The month of September- October seemed to fly. I was planning to present my capstone at the beginning of November and starting to think about all the preparations for the baby. We were well into our ongoing search for a house and finally talked and decided on one we wanted to buy.
Then, all my plans came crashing down... my advisor wrote to me and told me he would not approve my capstone paper for the November presentations. He had different expectations than I did about the assignment and requirements and so I was stuck trying to justify my paper and delayed in getting the necessary approval. I came home one Wednesday crying because I was so upset about the capstone. Juan Carlos comforted me, told me I should do what I could to go in November, but in the worst case, we could make it work to go in February. I didn't want to go in February, because I would have to pay to extend my time in the program and I would be about 7-8 months pregnant- not an ideal time for travelling and presenting...
Then, the phone rang. It was a midwife from Group Health, telling me that they found some abnormalities in the ultrasound I had had 10 days before. She said she wanted me to go to UW medical center in the next two days to get better ultrasound pictures taken so they would have some more information. She said it seemed the chest and abdomen had some slight swelling but they couldn't be sure. I was devastated. I could not get an appointment for the next two days: Thursday or Friday, though I spent most of both days on the phone between doctor's offices, trying to get in as soon as possible. The next Tuesday was the soonest they could get me in. The weekend was torturous- I tried not to worry but couldn't help myself. Every possible thought went through my head- would the baby have some lifelong health issue, a deformity, a sickness- would they be able to do anything for the baby? Was the cord wrapped around the body? Was my RH negative blood attacking the baby? What was happening? Would the baby live?
On Tuesday, my mom took me to UW. When I got in the car, she gave me a silver bracelet with footprints on it. She said if the baby kept me awake at night kicking, the bracelet was to remind me it was all worth it. I turned it to the other side: "it was then that I carried you" - from one of my favorite poems- Footprints... I started to cry. God was carrying me- what was I going to face today? When we arrived, Mom treated me to a chai tea, we talked, tried to stay calm. I'm sure both our minds were racing. They called us in- our first appt. was with the genetic counselor. She spent the better part of a half hour telling us it could be any number of things, that if it was something serious, it was unlikely the doctors would be able to do anything and taking a family history, which led her to the conclusion she still didn't know what could possibly be wrong. I went back for the ultrasound. I was excited to see my baby again. This time, if the picture was clearer, we might be able to tell if it was a boy or a girl... The sonographer, a young, pretty woman with long, black curly hair came in. When she started the ultrasound, my mom watched the pictures. I glanced at the pictures. I couldn't recognize anything... I watched the sonographer's face. She was serious and thoughtful, taking measurements diligently. I waited to hear the heartbeat. Nothing. Maybe it was on mute- maybe she hadn't checked it yet. The last time she told us when we would hear it. This lady hadn't said anything. But she was bringing up the image that had to show the heartbeat. Where was it? What was going on? She stopped, looked at me sadly and said quietly: "I can't find a heartbeat. I'm going to get a doctor to be sure. I'll bring some tissues."
All I could think was "oh my God, oh my God, this isn't happening" It was that fast- one minute I had a healthy beautiful living soul inside of me and the next... there was no heartbeat. My mom was crying, holding my hand, I broke down. The next moment I was angry- God did this. " I feel like God just wants to destroy me." I said out loud. "No, no he doesn't, Janelle. God did not do this," my mom said confidently. I said, "He could have saved the baby and He didn't." There was no way to make sense of this. No way to make it better. The doctor came in. She had to check one more time...maybe there was a mistake- I doubted it. I didn't look. No, nothing. She said she was sorry. She told me I was young and I could have more. She said it happened to her too, so she knows it is hard. I felt so alone- it happens to doctors too, I thought. For some reason, it surprised me and also comforted me, strangely, to think I wasn't the only one.
The sonographer told us there was another room where we could go to wait for the follow up appointment we had scheduled for after the ultrasound. The doctor came in to talk to us about what had happened. She explained that based on the genetic history and the information they had, the most likely cause was just a mismatch in the chromosomes. She explained chromosomes have to divide so many times, so many things can go wrong, that the real miracle is that a healthy baby is ever born. She said they could do testing on the remains. My thoughts shifted, now my baby was not living- what would happen to the baby, what would happen to me. The doctor said ultimately my body would probably release everything but to avoid more trauma, she recommended doing a D&E, where they would open my cervix and take everything out of my uterus. This would help avoid infection, be less painful and much less traumatic. It was all surreal. Instead of labor, this is what I would go through. She said she would try to make an appointment with Group Health for me, so I wouldnt have to.
A social worker came in. She said the same kinds of things other people did. I can have more. It happens to a lot of women. It takes a lot to make a healthy baby. She gave me some resources.
Group Health wouldn't let the doctor make an appointment for me. They insisted I call. We couldn't believe it. My mom called on my behalf with me in the car. First it would be a consultation. From there, they could schedule the D&E. More appointments just to make more appointments. Why would they put me through this? It seemed so uncompassionate and insensitive.
I was nervous getting home, knowing I would have to tell Juan Carlos. He knew it was bad when he saw my face. "What happened?" "We lost the baby" I answered. "The baby died?" "Yes" Shock and despair covered his face. We held each other and cried. Then came more questions, more answers, more tears.
Juan Carlos, my mom and I went to the appointment the next day. The OB Gyn explained more about the procedure. We asked if she could do it Friday so i could recover over the weekend. She said she didn't work on Fridays. It would probably not be for 1-2 weeks. I was horrified. How could I go around carrying this lifeless baby, how could I return to work still with the baby inside and then how could I take more time off? I really did not want to drag this out... my mother insisted she find a way to fit me in. Then the doctor did an examination to see if my cervix was open and how big my uterus was. It was so uncomfortable- every kind of touch felt violating. Why? Why? After the exam, she said she thought my uterus was too big for her to do the procedure. She would refer us back up to Seattle. We would need to go Thursday for a consultation and again on Friday for the procedure. At least it would all be done for the weekend.
My mom was great enough to take a ton of time off work to drive me to Seattle twice and take care of me after the procedure. I was grateful to have kind and considerate doctors and nurses up in Seattle. They made everything much easier. Friday, I was starting to feel a little more calm and peaceful.
Saturday, I talked with someone who had also had a miscarriage many many years ago. It was helpful to talk through some of the feelings and realities of the experience that it would be nearly impossible to talk about with anyone who hasn't been through it. I held myself together pretty well and felt like I was doing pretty well.
That night, though, I went to pick Juan Carlos up from a restaurant where he was with his friends and I cried all the way there. When I got out of the car and saw a friend of his coming out of the resturaunt, he came over to me and gave me a hug and I cried. It was strange seeing people I had seen nearly every weekend, but now, after everything had changed...
Sunday was hard. I woke up with my breasts feeling incredibly painful and rock hard. I called my mom. My breasts were engorged because my milk had come in. I would have to wear a sports bra, take pain medicine and ice my chest for the next week. It was so frustrating that my body didn't know what happened. My body thought I gave birth, that I would need to nurse. But I didn't have a baby to nurse and I had to force my body to stop producing milk because no one needed it. Sunday, my sister came to be with me. We talked about politics and laughed at Saturday Night Live episodes with Tina Faye pretending to be Sarah Palin. We talked about her life and my life and every once in awhile, thoughts would set in and I would cry, and she would cry and my mom would cry- we cried together. One time my sister and I were crying and my dad came in from working outside. He came over to hug me and the three of us cried together. I was devastated but felt so loved and supported at the same time. It was so good for me to mourn and for me to be with them as we mourned together.
Monday I went back to work. It was good to be distracted and to get back into the swing of things. But the next week was hard- full of emotions- first mornings were the hardest, later nights were hard. Juan Carlos started to get upset, wanting to see me better, wanting me to move on, but I couldn't and I couldn't explain to him why. When I would cry he would ask "what happened? Why are you crying?" I didn't know how to tell him it was the same reason I was crying a week ago. He didn't know how to support me or make it better. I didn't know how to be happy, especially when I just wanted to dwell in my sadness and sometimes my self-pity. Thoughts of my baby and my future came up over and over again sometimes the same things as before and sometimes different. Every time I was faced with a new challenging idea- envy, self-pity, loss of purpose, loneliness, anger, sadness for myself, sadness for my baby, fear, etc. I had to learn how to face it in a new way. I had to find new hope, new wisdom, new comfort each time until the next.
I was so grateful for my mother who was willing to listen to me all hours of the night and morning- never told me not to cry, never made it seem less than it was- she was just there with me, holding me, letting me go through the grief I had to go through. I think that's made it easier.
In the midst of some of my hardest times, I found myself writing. One morning, I went in late to work because I just couldn't pull myself together. But that morning, I started writing and I felt like God spoke to me through the words I wrote.
Why did I have to suffer through a summer of not knowing that I was pregnant or if I could get pregnant or not? Why couldn't the doctors figure out what was going on?
"Trust me, not doctors. I know what they don't."
Why would you give me a child only to take him/her away? Why would you give anyone such a short life? Why did you take my baby?
"You can have a baby and you will, but you have to realize that life is mine. It will be in my way in my time."
Without my baby I am nothing and I have nothing.
"You have to be whole yourself before you can give your whole self- you have to recognize what you have before you can appreciate what you have before you."
It hurts so much to lose my child because of all my child would have been for me- purpose, happiness. I was never alone when I carried a child inside me.
"You cannot rely on a child for purpose or company or happiness because you must rely on me for those things."
Now I have nothing to offer. I'm empty.
"Come to me as you are, in your emptiness- let me fill you."
I can't do this- it's too much grief, too much physical pain.
"Let me be your strength when you feel you can't make it through the next hour, when your chest aches, when you can't understand."
What will others think of me? Will they judge me? Will they think I did something wrong?
"Don't worry about others."
Why do you give children to others and not to us? Why do so many women have healthy babies but not me?
"Don't be envious because I am generous."
I'm not strong enough to face this. You made me. You know. You know you did not make me a strong person.
"You are my child- I see you, I hear you, I know you. I know your strengths, your beauty and weaknesses and temptations."
What now, Lord?
"Be patient. You do not know the plans I have for you...."
In the midst of all this, I have tried to find a way to be thankful. The following story is from a book called, "Empty Arms" that my mom bought for me. The thoughts of this woman made me cry.
"I am so thankful to God for my special baby, even though he only lived eleven weeks after conception. Miscarriage was his return call by Jesus. I'll never be tempted to question the goodness of God in giving us a baby we never held. How could anyone be less than bursting with parental pride over a baby who brings you this much joy and expectation? I can't!
When I made the announcement to Michael that our baby was coming he laughed first, then cried, and ended up doing both at the same time. No other news on earth could have brought on this response, and the scene was repeated with grandparents. My baby's life was not long enough to have any pictures to carry in my billfold, but was long enough to fill my heart with wonderful memories.
I was never hurt by my child's rebellion, was never embarrassed by my child's action, and I never had to discipline him. This was my child who brought me only joy all the days of his life. Thank you God, for that kind of child; it was a gift only you could give."
So, I too, thank you God for the gift of our child, for hope that lives on, for the good that only you can bring out of such a painful, difficult loss. I am left without plans, without direction, hurled back into a place of all-encompassing vulnerability, not knowing the way or the destination, left to be open once again to your will, so I pray that during this time, you hold me and you carry me- that you take me, your child, where you need me here on earth, until you hold me, as I hold my baby one day in heaven.
At the beginning of September, Juan Carlos and I were ecstatic to find out we were expecting a baby. It was a bit of a surprise, as I had been going through testing for infertility all summer. Turns out I was "infertile" almost the whole time because I was pregnant. It also explained why I was feeling tired and all around awful for a lot of the summer... I was glad to have an explanation and even happier to have a baby on the way. When we found out, we weren't sure how far along I was, but a couple weeks and several appointments later, we were finally given a due date of April 1st. I had my first ultrasound at 14 weeks.
The month of September- October seemed to fly. I was planning to present my capstone at the beginning of November and starting to think about all the preparations for the baby. We were well into our ongoing search for a house and finally talked and decided on one we wanted to buy.
Then, all my plans came crashing down... my advisor wrote to me and told me he would not approve my capstone paper for the November presentations. He had different expectations than I did about the assignment and requirements and so I was stuck trying to justify my paper and delayed in getting the necessary approval. I came home one Wednesday crying because I was so upset about the capstone. Juan Carlos comforted me, told me I should do what I could to go in November, but in the worst case, we could make it work to go in February. I didn't want to go in February, because I would have to pay to extend my time in the program and I would be about 7-8 months pregnant- not an ideal time for travelling and presenting...
Then, the phone rang. It was a midwife from Group Health, telling me that they found some abnormalities in the ultrasound I had had 10 days before. She said she wanted me to go to UW medical center in the next two days to get better ultrasound pictures taken so they would have some more information. She said it seemed the chest and abdomen had some slight swelling but they couldn't be sure. I was devastated. I could not get an appointment for the next two days: Thursday or Friday, though I spent most of both days on the phone between doctor's offices, trying to get in as soon as possible. The next Tuesday was the soonest they could get me in. The weekend was torturous- I tried not to worry but couldn't help myself. Every possible thought went through my head- would the baby have some lifelong health issue, a deformity, a sickness- would they be able to do anything for the baby? Was the cord wrapped around the body? Was my RH negative blood attacking the baby? What was happening? Would the baby live?
On Tuesday, my mom took me to UW. When I got in the car, she gave me a silver bracelet with footprints on it. She said if the baby kept me awake at night kicking, the bracelet was to remind me it was all worth it. I turned it to the other side: "it was then that I carried you" - from one of my favorite poems- Footprints... I started to cry. God was carrying me- what was I going to face today? When we arrived, Mom treated me to a chai tea, we talked, tried to stay calm. I'm sure both our minds were racing. They called us in- our first appt. was with the genetic counselor. She spent the better part of a half hour telling us it could be any number of things, that if it was something serious, it was unlikely the doctors would be able to do anything and taking a family history, which led her to the conclusion she still didn't know what could possibly be wrong. I went back for the ultrasound. I was excited to see my baby again. This time, if the picture was clearer, we might be able to tell if it was a boy or a girl... The sonographer, a young, pretty woman with long, black curly hair came in. When she started the ultrasound, my mom watched the pictures. I glanced at the pictures. I couldn't recognize anything... I watched the sonographer's face. She was serious and thoughtful, taking measurements diligently. I waited to hear the heartbeat. Nothing. Maybe it was on mute- maybe she hadn't checked it yet. The last time she told us when we would hear it. This lady hadn't said anything. But she was bringing up the image that had to show the heartbeat. Where was it? What was going on? She stopped, looked at me sadly and said quietly: "I can't find a heartbeat. I'm going to get a doctor to be sure. I'll bring some tissues."
All I could think was "oh my God, oh my God, this isn't happening" It was that fast- one minute I had a healthy beautiful living soul inside of me and the next... there was no heartbeat. My mom was crying, holding my hand, I broke down. The next moment I was angry- God did this. " I feel like God just wants to destroy me." I said out loud. "No, no he doesn't, Janelle. God did not do this," my mom said confidently. I said, "He could have saved the baby and He didn't." There was no way to make sense of this. No way to make it better. The doctor came in. She had to check one more time...maybe there was a mistake- I doubted it. I didn't look. No, nothing. She said she was sorry. She told me I was young and I could have more. She said it happened to her too, so she knows it is hard. I felt so alone- it happens to doctors too, I thought. For some reason, it surprised me and also comforted me, strangely, to think I wasn't the only one.
The sonographer told us there was another room where we could go to wait for the follow up appointment we had scheduled for after the ultrasound. The doctor came in to talk to us about what had happened. She explained that based on the genetic history and the information they had, the most likely cause was just a mismatch in the chromosomes. She explained chromosomes have to divide so many times, so many things can go wrong, that the real miracle is that a healthy baby is ever born. She said they could do testing on the remains. My thoughts shifted, now my baby was not living- what would happen to the baby, what would happen to me. The doctor said ultimately my body would probably release everything but to avoid more trauma, she recommended doing a D&E, where they would open my cervix and take everything out of my uterus. This would help avoid infection, be less painful and much less traumatic. It was all surreal. Instead of labor, this is what I would go through. She said she would try to make an appointment with Group Health for me, so I wouldnt have to.
A social worker came in. She said the same kinds of things other people did. I can have more. It happens to a lot of women. It takes a lot to make a healthy baby. She gave me some resources.
Group Health wouldn't let the doctor make an appointment for me. They insisted I call. We couldn't believe it. My mom called on my behalf with me in the car. First it would be a consultation. From there, they could schedule the D&E. More appointments just to make more appointments. Why would they put me through this? It seemed so uncompassionate and insensitive.
I was nervous getting home, knowing I would have to tell Juan Carlos. He knew it was bad when he saw my face. "What happened?" "We lost the baby" I answered. "The baby died?" "Yes" Shock and despair covered his face. We held each other and cried. Then came more questions, more answers, more tears.
Juan Carlos, my mom and I went to the appointment the next day. The OB Gyn explained more about the procedure. We asked if she could do it Friday so i could recover over the weekend. She said she didn't work on Fridays. It would probably not be for 1-2 weeks. I was horrified. How could I go around carrying this lifeless baby, how could I return to work still with the baby inside and then how could I take more time off? I really did not want to drag this out... my mother insisted she find a way to fit me in. Then the doctor did an examination to see if my cervix was open and how big my uterus was. It was so uncomfortable- every kind of touch felt violating. Why? Why? After the exam, she said she thought my uterus was too big for her to do the procedure. She would refer us back up to Seattle. We would need to go Thursday for a consultation and again on Friday for the procedure. At least it would all be done for the weekend.
My mom was great enough to take a ton of time off work to drive me to Seattle twice and take care of me after the procedure. I was grateful to have kind and considerate doctors and nurses up in Seattle. They made everything much easier. Friday, I was starting to feel a little more calm and peaceful.
Saturday, I talked with someone who had also had a miscarriage many many years ago. It was helpful to talk through some of the feelings and realities of the experience that it would be nearly impossible to talk about with anyone who hasn't been through it. I held myself together pretty well and felt like I was doing pretty well.
That night, though, I went to pick Juan Carlos up from a restaurant where he was with his friends and I cried all the way there. When I got out of the car and saw a friend of his coming out of the resturaunt, he came over to me and gave me a hug and I cried. It was strange seeing people I had seen nearly every weekend, but now, after everything had changed...
Sunday was hard. I woke up with my breasts feeling incredibly painful and rock hard. I called my mom. My breasts were engorged because my milk had come in. I would have to wear a sports bra, take pain medicine and ice my chest for the next week. It was so frustrating that my body didn't know what happened. My body thought I gave birth, that I would need to nurse. But I didn't have a baby to nurse and I had to force my body to stop producing milk because no one needed it. Sunday, my sister came to be with me. We talked about politics and laughed at Saturday Night Live episodes with Tina Faye pretending to be Sarah Palin. We talked about her life and my life and every once in awhile, thoughts would set in and I would cry, and she would cry and my mom would cry- we cried together. One time my sister and I were crying and my dad came in from working outside. He came over to hug me and the three of us cried together. I was devastated but felt so loved and supported at the same time. It was so good for me to mourn and for me to be with them as we mourned together.
Monday I went back to work. It was good to be distracted and to get back into the swing of things. But the next week was hard- full of emotions- first mornings were the hardest, later nights were hard. Juan Carlos started to get upset, wanting to see me better, wanting me to move on, but I couldn't and I couldn't explain to him why. When I would cry he would ask "what happened? Why are you crying?" I didn't know how to tell him it was the same reason I was crying a week ago. He didn't know how to support me or make it better. I didn't know how to be happy, especially when I just wanted to dwell in my sadness and sometimes my self-pity. Thoughts of my baby and my future came up over and over again sometimes the same things as before and sometimes different. Every time I was faced with a new challenging idea- envy, self-pity, loss of purpose, loneliness, anger, sadness for myself, sadness for my baby, fear, etc. I had to learn how to face it in a new way. I had to find new hope, new wisdom, new comfort each time until the next.
I was so grateful for my mother who was willing to listen to me all hours of the night and morning- never told me not to cry, never made it seem less than it was- she was just there with me, holding me, letting me go through the grief I had to go through. I think that's made it easier.
In the midst of some of my hardest times, I found myself writing. One morning, I went in late to work because I just couldn't pull myself together. But that morning, I started writing and I felt like God spoke to me through the words I wrote.
Why did I have to suffer through a summer of not knowing that I was pregnant or if I could get pregnant or not? Why couldn't the doctors figure out what was going on?
"Trust me, not doctors. I know what they don't."
Why would you give me a child only to take him/her away? Why would you give anyone such a short life? Why did you take my baby?
"You can have a baby and you will, but you have to realize that life is mine. It will be in my way in my time."
Without my baby I am nothing and I have nothing.
"You have to be whole yourself before you can give your whole self- you have to recognize what you have before you can appreciate what you have before you."
It hurts so much to lose my child because of all my child would have been for me- purpose, happiness. I was never alone when I carried a child inside me.
"You cannot rely on a child for purpose or company or happiness because you must rely on me for those things."
Now I have nothing to offer. I'm empty.
"Come to me as you are, in your emptiness- let me fill you."
I can't do this- it's too much grief, too much physical pain.
"Let me be your strength when you feel you can't make it through the next hour, when your chest aches, when you can't understand."
What will others think of me? Will they judge me? Will they think I did something wrong?
"Don't worry about others."
Why do you give children to others and not to us? Why do so many women have healthy babies but not me?
"Don't be envious because I am generous."
I'm not strong enough to face this. You made me. You know. You know you did not make me a strong person.
"You are my child- I see you, I hear you, I know you. I know your strengths, your beauty and weaknesses and temptations."
What now, Lord?
"Be patient. You do not know the plans I have for you...."
In the midst of all this, I have tried to find a way to be thankful. The following story is from a book called, "Empty Arms" that my mom bought for me. The thoughts of this woman made me cry.
"I am so thankful to God for my special baby, even though he only lived eleven weeks after conception. Miscarriage was his return call by Jesus. I'll never be tempted to question the goodness of God in giving us a baby we never held. How could anyone be less than bursting with parental pride over a baby who brings you this much joy and expectation? I can't!
When I made the announcement to Michael that our baby was coming he laughed first, then cried, and ended up doing both at the same time. No other news on earth could have brought on this response, and the scene was repeated with grandparents. My baby's life was not long enough to have any pictures to carry in my billfold, but was long enough to fill my heart with wonderful memories.
I was never hurt by my child's rebellion, was never embarrassed by my child's action, and I never had to discipline him. This was my child who brought me only joy all the days of his life. Thank you God, for that kind of child; it was a gift only you could give."
So, I too, thank you God for the gift of our child, for hope that lives on, for the good that only you can bring out of such a painful, difficult loss. I am left without plans, without direction, hurled back into a place of all-encompassing vulnerability, not knowing the way or the destination, left to be open once again to your will, so I pray that during this time, you hold me and you carry me- that you take me, your child, where you need me here on earth, until you hold me, as I hold my baby one day in heaven.
1 comment:
Thank you so very much for such honest reflections. I am so sorry that all of this happened at the same time. I hope you know how impressed I am by you and how much you inspire me. I know we don't get to see each other very often, but I am so thankful to have you in my life. I know we'll probably chat more the next time I see you, but I just wanted you to know that I am thinking about and praying for you guys.
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