In Greek Mythology some of the most powerful Godessess, even possessing power above Zeus himself, were The Fates. The Fates were three women who determined when life would begin, what happened in between and when it would end. The youngest Fate, Clotho, was a maiden and she spun the thread of life. Lachesis, the matron, measured the thread of life and Atropos, the crone, cut the thread of life. Between the three of them these Goddesses held the fate of all mankind in their hands.
Last week I had a miscarriage. I was a little over three months pregnant-- almost 13 weeks-- my baby would have been due around the 4th of July, my birthday.
The thread of life is so fragile.
This baby was very loved and very wanted. Our home is open to all the children God wants to send and Jon and I are willing to accept children whenever the Lord is ready to send them.
Jon and I both felt so strongly that this baby coming was a little boy, but I guess now we won't ever know. In mind my mind he is still a boy. Having him gone has left a little hole in my heart and in our home. We were at my in-laws house for Christmas and whenever we rounded up our kids I kept looking for someone else. It felt so strange. I'd have to remind myself that I only had two children (even typing this I almost typed three children) and I each time I felt the loss a little deeper.
The last week has been a roller coaster for me and I know that writing things out will be good therapy for me. I know that reading other women's miscarriage stories has helped me a lot and so I'm writing this in case it helps someone else--and to make sense out of my world.
I started bleeding on Sunday evening. It was somewhat light and I didn't have any cramping and so I was hopeful that it wasn't any thing serious, but deep in my heart I knew that it was all over. I called my midwife on Monday morning, as early as was decent, and asked if instead of coming in for our first pre-natal appointment on Tuesday we could come in and see her that day. When we went in she checked for a heart beat with her Doppler, and even though she tried for almost 2o minutes, she was unable to find anything. I think we both knew but didn't want to say the word out loud. She said that I could go in and get an ultrasound if I wanted to so that we would know for sure. I really didn't want to go get an ultrasound and so I told her we would probably just wait things out-- we would know one way or the other pretty soon. As we left she gave me a big hug and told me to call her anytime if I had questions or needed help and to know that no matter what happened she would be there for me and that she loved me.
On Tuesday the bleeding continued but seemed to be lessening and I still didn't have any cramping. I was hopeful that things would be fine. Jon and his cousin gave me a priesthood blessing in which I was told that the baby would be alright, but what God meant by "alright" I had no idea. It was so hard not knowing one way or the other. I think it was one of the hardest "waitings" I've ever had in my life and it really took a toll on my soul. I couldn't cry and I couldn't rejoice. I was somewhere in limbo in between and it was hard... really hard.
On Wednesday morning the cramps started and by then there was no doubt in my mind what was happening.
My baby was gone.
I was devastated but a little part of me was relieved-- at least now I knew what was happening, I was out of limbo, but I still couldn't cry. It was early morning and for a long time I laid in bed and tried to ignore the cramps. They were something I'd never experienced before. They didn't feel like regular menstrual cramps because they came in "waves" like labor contractions but there wasn't any strength to them like a contraction. Those cramps were something different all together and I hope I don't ever feel them again. They were really painful but since they came in waves like labor contractions I knew how to handle them. I just took one at a time. Eventually Jon woke up and held my hand while I laid on the bed with my feet hanging over the side and he got me a hot pad to put on my back. We didn't say anything and in an hour they were over. I got up and sat on the toilet and felt a huge gush of blood and felt something big slip out of me.
It was a placenta.
Almost the instant the baby left me I broke out in uncontrollable sobs. Jon came running in and helped clean me up and got me on the couch. I think I'd been clinging to the small hope that everything would be all right and then once it was gone I finally was able to cry, and cry, and cry. Asher and Rose had woken up and Asher was really concerned about what had happened to me. Jon told him that the baby had gone back to Heavenly Father and he kept patting me on the cheek and telling me "stop crying mama, be better." It was heartbreaking and somewhat comforting for me to see the placenta. I realized that it had been a living baby and that my body had created this placenta and a tiny little body. Each one of my children had once passed through that very same stage... and this one never would.
I cried for a few hours and then, unexpectedly, I felt so much better. I felt a great wave of peace come over me and I knew that things were in God's hands. I felt the presence of my unborn son and felt his love and gratitude for me. For some reason I do not understand the time is not yet right for him to come to earth, but when it is, he will be back. Knowing that, which I do deep in my soul, makes it hard to be too devastated over our loss. My heart aches and my womb is empty but I know that God is in perfect control of the universe and that he is in perfect control of when his children come to this world. The timing of our lives is such a delicate thread and a few days, a few months, a few years might make all the difference in a person's life or in the history of the world. Who am I to question or play with God's timing? I'm trying really hard not to.
Life is in God's hands and he is the one who spins it, measures it and cuts it.
Still, part of me deeply aches for the child who will not be.
Little boy, our hearts, our home and our lives are wide open for you and for anyone else who wants to come.
Whenever you are ready... we are here.
