On July 5th, 2018, exactly three years after my first miscarriage, I miscarried again. Yep, the same date just three years apart. This year has been hard for us. I haven't shared much of it because we don't really have any answers at this point but I began having some health issues on February 1st. Numerous doctor visits have taken place, lots of dollars have gone toward those doctor visits and lots of tears have been shed as we try to figure out what is going on. I hope to share more about that eventually.
In the midst of that, I was having a short season of feeling great and Matt and I felt like the door was open for us to try for a baby. After all, that had been our plan before the sickness stuff began. So, we tried. One time. Yep, that may be TMI but one time. We were a bit shocked when the pregnancy test showed positive. Yes, we had been trying but it took us 6+ months before my last miscarriage and then a couple of more months with Maddox so we expected that. But nope, just once was all it took.
Wow, that must be a sign. A ray of sunshine and hope in the midst of a rough year. I called the doctor and made an appointment for July 5th. I didn't realize the date until later and had the thought of "Oh this will be a redeeming appointment for this date. How exciting." When the appointment came, we went in to the ultrasound room with an incredibly chatty technician. She chatted and chatted and chatted and then got silent. "Are you sure about your dates?" Yep, more sure than I've been with any other pregnancy because ONE TIME. The ultrasound ended and she stated she needed to talk to the doctor. Yeah, we already knew what that meant. So we waited for the doctor for nearly 45 minutes and I continued to state, "I hate this date."
When we went into his office, he told us, with sadness, that the baby had no heartbeat and was 8 weeks gestational age versus the 9 weeks, 5 days that I was. My body showed no indication of progress for miscarrying so we scheduled a D&C for a few days later. When the procedure took place, I woke up in tears. I fell asleep pregnant and woke up not. Yeah, that sucked. The next 10 days were tough. Thankfully, Matt was off for the entirety and we had several friends as well as Matt's grandparents who brought us meals and helped us out. But it just was tough and continues to be tough.
Lots of emotions, lots of rawness, lots of frustration, lots of questions. Will we try for another baby? Should we tell Mason and Maddox everything that has happened? Do we now continue to see doctors to get answers regarding my health? (Side note: the current health issues have no bearing on my miscarriage. They are completely unrelated to the greatest extent that we know.)
We have certainly seen God's hand in our situation and circumstances despite the hard or even in the midst of the hard but this go around has been a lot more difficult than the first miscarriage. Why? I'm not exactly sure but man, this season of life is tiring. We are pushing through. We are loving each other. We are loving our boys. We are praising God for the many blessings we DO have but we are also tired and sad and overwhelmed.
We will persevere.
We will survive.
We are determined to thrive.