So, I just got back from the doctor, and am having several mixed emotions. Maybe it’s the hormones, maybe it’s being human, or maybe it’s just being a woman. I don’t know.
I feel some emotional trauma, and the only way I think I can turn this raw open wound into a scar is by writing about it. I know this blog will bring tears to my own eyes even as I type, but since I am training to be a therapist, I know it will be healing to tell you all what happened today.
Whew. Here goes... Seriously- If you're emotional AT ALL, grab a tissue. What I'm about to describe is heart wrenching, and really hit home for me.
I excitedly walked into the doctor’s office with my mom, my mother in law, and my husband by my side. We all awkwardly sat down in the waiting room which was packed full. I’m not sure when I will learn not to make appointments on Monday’s, but hopefully our next appointment on a Wednesday won’t be as crowded. One by one, women were being called out of the waiting room into both the doctor’s office, as well as the sonographer’s office. I began settling into my seat and chit chatting with my mom and mother in law when suddenly, the mood of the entire room melted.
I was surrounded by dozens of expecting mothers, and within seconds, we all knew what had just happened. In the small room that gave previews to mothers of their tiny growing miracles was a woman who was allowing us to listen to her heart breaking. She was uncontrollably wailing at the tops of her lungs and stopping only long enough to catch a small breath, only to feel her heart to break some more.
No one in the room had to say one word. We all know what had happened. It was apparent that she had just found out that her child was back in the arms of Jesus.
For several minutes, time stood still. No one looked around, but I could hear tears falling all around me. Tears were streaming down my cheeks as I mindlessly flipped through the pages of a magazine. My heart was racing, as I hugged my stomach. I was aching for the comfort of a kick, or a punch from Maddison. I needed to feel her move- even just a tiny bit.
I silently prayed for this poor woman and her pain that was audible to everyone in the room. God heard my prayer, and Maddison moved. It was just as sweet as the first time I felt her- maybe even sweeter.
After several minutes, we were all able to put a face to the shadow of pain that we all had just witnessed. This broken woman had gathered the strength to walk through dozens of people, and leave the doctor’s office knowing that her baby no longer had a heartbeat. I felt terrible as my eyes followed her, and hoped that she didn’t feel uncomfortable being the center of attention. I was confident that she didn't notice anyone else in the room as one hand was grasped over her mouth, while the other was clutching her belly. She was gasping for air in between silent sobs, and my heart ached for her. She was so broken and wounded on the inside as her rounded belly led the way to the exit of the room.
Minutes after she was out of sight, I excused myself to the restroom where I sat down, and bawled my eyes out. I kept thinking over and over how easy this blessing of life inside of me could be taken away. It made me want to live in a bubble so that no one or no thing could ever hurt my child. I splashed some water on my face and verbally thanked the Lord for keeping me and Maddison safe. When I walked back into the waiting room, I took note of the dozens of women with tissues and blood shot eyes. I found some comfort in knowing that they felt what I was feeling. Babies truly are a blessing, and shouldn’t be taken for granted.
Desperately seeking a mental distraction, I reached into my purse for my phone. I quickly noticed that God had tugged on James’ heart, and I found a text message assuring me that everything was going to be okay. He knows me well enough to know that if he would have touched me, even with a hug, I would have lost it right then and there. A simple message from him meant more to me than anything else he could have said. Maddison was moving in several places of my belly, and I was up next for my sonogram.
The sonogram went well. I was excited to see my mom and Kim’s (my MIL) face when they saw Maddi moving for the first time. We all released unspoken tension once we saw her moving, and smiles replaced worried faces. I think down deep, we all feared that the pain we had just witnessed was very real, and could happen to anyone at any time. The sonographer assured us that Maddison's organs looked healthy, her weight and height were good, and she even appeared to be clapping! He quickly took note of her active-ness and all I could do was laugh and agree with him. It was an overwhelming much needed reassurance that Jim was right- Everything WAS going to be okay.
All in all, everything looks great. Maddi weighs about ¾ of a pound, and is definitely a girl. All of her organs look great, and her Mama is doing well too. I have gained 7 pounds so far, and although I was concerned about this, Dr. Robbins said that it was right on track for me, and that soon she will be telling me to slow down! I just love her!
I feel pretty drained after expressing my emotions in this blog, and so I am going to cut it short. I’m so glad you all are here to let me vent about things- good and bad. I appreciate your thoughts, and would like to ask you to say a quick prayer for the women who suffer from the pain of a miscarriage. I saw it today, and only God can provide comfort for that heart wrenching pain.
Please keep praying for me, Jim, and Maddison.
It’s working.
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