Three.

Well it's been two and a half weeks and I am finally feeling well enough to write about this past month's happenings. 

Our third pregnancy has come to an end.

7 weeks 2 days.

We had been trying for a few months before we found out that we were once again pregnant. Our first positive test was SO faint that I almost didn't believe it. I probably took 10 tests over the next week and a half just to be sure that that little pink line was still there. It was, I was pregnant with what we expected to be our miracle baby.

Because of our history with miscarriages, our doctor had put me on a progesterone/hormone supplement with the intent to help the baby stay in the uterus. This medicine is eeeevil. I'm typically pretty stable (hormonally speaking) but the progesterone had me all over the place. It was a serious struggle to keep my head on straight, and I know that I probably drove Mr. DJ crazy. But he was as patient as ever and he recognized that the suffering that I was going through was SO worth it.

Again because of our failed pregnancies, the doctor had me come in for our first ultrasound at 6 weeks instead of the usual 10. The anxiety I felt over this appointment is hard to put into words. On one hand, I wanted to think positively and tell myself that everything was going to be fine and that the baby would be healthy, but at the same time I felt the need to mentally and emotionally prepare myself for the worst. I'm a big believer in the power of positive thinking, but it was so hard. SO hard. 

I got to the doctor's office before DJ (he was coming straight from a job interview in Tempe) and ended up going in for the ultrasound on my own. I let the tech know how nervous I was for this ultrasound and she was so sensitive and understanding. She began, and I was on the lookout for a heartbeat. As soon as she zeroed in on the fetus, my heart dropped. There was an embryonic sac, but no heartbeat. 

No heartbeat.

I was 6 weeks 5 days along, but my baby only measured 4 weeks 6 days. A whole 13 days smaller than what we anticipated.

The tech was incredibly sweet and calmly explained that there was a chance that the baby just wasn't as far along as we had calculated. She also warned me that if not a miscalculation, I would lose the baby.

The plan was to draw blood to test for my hcg levels and then draw again 2 days later (the levels are supposed to double every 48 hours or so). If the levels doubled, then the baby was likely healthy and developing just fine. If not, well, yeah. 

So they drew blood and I had to go home and face the facts. I was terrified. I was heartbroken. I was devastated. I was hopeful. I was so, so worried. We got the results of the first draw the next day and to my surprise the hcg levels were about where they should be for a 5 week old baby. Hope increased a bit. All we needed now was the results of the second blood draw to be double the first. 

My second draw was on a Friday, so we would have to wait until Monday to receive the results. This weekend was an extremely emotional and difficult time. Thankfully, it was General Conference weekend and even though DJ and I both had a hard time keeping our minds focused and away from worrying, we felt great comfort in listening to the Lord's teachings through His disciples.

The game plan was to wait for Monday's results and then schedule the necessary procedures should we get bad news. Well, my body had other plans and I began bleeding Sunday evening. 

Having a miscarriage is horrible, but having to pass the baby naturally is one of the most heartbreaking, terrifying, awful things I have ever experienced. Excruciating pain coupled with grief and devastation had me in bed, bleeding, for an entire week. For a whole 5 days I ceased to function. My poor husband was in the middle of his finals week at ASU and struggled immensely to stay focused on his work (sidenote: his is a superhero and passed both of his exams with higher scores than the class average - woot woot!). It was a rough week for the both of us.

Thankfully there were no complications with the miscarriage and my body recovered quickly. Things have finally settled down a bit and we are healing. The pain and heartbreak we feel is unimaginable, but we know that we have to move forward. We have to. If we don't move forward, I know that I am weak and that I will allow the misery and grief to overwhelm me and drag me down. And while at times I want to wallow in that despair, I know that if I do, I may not make it out. 

So onward and upward. Faith. Hope. Healing. Onward and upward. 

Overwhelmed.

Recording our story of miscarriage and loss was one of the hardest things I have ever done. 

And then I felt that it needed to be shared.

Find our story here. 

Multiply that difficulty by infinity, and then add in fear, anxiety, embarrassment, etc., etc., etc.

SO SCARY.

I honestly expected a few (like 10) people to bother taking the time to read my message.

I did not expect my post to have over 650 hits in 24 hours. 

I did not expect the sweet comments, the lovely messages of hope and peace, the positive encouragement.

I did not expect the magnitude of love and support that was sent our way.

I am overwhelmed.

I hoped that some good would come from sharing our story, and I truly feel like we benefited more than anyone else possibly did or ever could. That was not my goal in sharing our story, but  I am so thankful to everyone for reading and sharing and even more so for their kind words.

Thank you.

Angels.

I've spent quite some time debating whether or not I am ready to write about this. 

I do not know if anyone will read this, 

or if they will even care.

But I remember the messages shared with me, ones that were thought to be obscure, ones that lifted me up in my time of need. And I am inspired and encouraged to write, hoping that our story will maybe possibly touch someone's life, as others' messages have touched ours.

August 28, 2012

We lost our baby.

It is difficult to describe how I felt when we realized what was happening. 

It now seems like a blur, a dream, when I think about it. 

All I am sure of is that I was in pain.

Unimaginable pain.

Physically, mentally, emotionally, spiritually. 

Just pain.

All of the excitement that I had felt upon realizing we were going to have a baby was halted and replaced with this pain. "Delivering" the baby was physically draining, but the emotional and spiritual pain that accompanied our loss was incredible.

I remember being angry, confused and hurt. I was so angry that it made me physically ill. All I have ever wanted was to be a mother and in a day or two that opportunity was torn from my grasp. I hated everything. I did not want to talk to anyone, I did not want to see anyone. I refused to accept comfort and support. I hated going out, I hated staying in. I hated waking up in the morning, I hated going to sleep. 

I was devastated. 

Why did this have to happen to me?

Why would God allow me to suffer like this?

Why did I have to give my baby back?

So many tears were shed. Sobbing, crying, screaming, moaning.

Complete and utter heartbreak.

While he was heartbroken as well, my poor husband did not understand what I was going through and had a hard time empathizing with my pain. Neither of us realized the effect that losing our baby would have on our relationship, and we struggled for a while. 

Eventually we realized that we weren't enough. We could not carry ourselves through this trial.

 Our faith had been shaken, but we needed it now more than ever before. 

We fell to our knees and asked for understanding, for comfort, for hope.

And it came.

It still hurt to hear friends announce that they were pregnant. 

I still got choked up at the sight of beautiful pregnant women or sweet tiny babies.

But the pain was bearable, and we knew that the Lord was looking out for us and giving us strength.

A few months went by, and we felt like the worst had passed. We were moving forward, with the Lord at our side, looking forward to what the future had in store for us.

And then a miracle happened.

Our rainbow baby was on its way! 

We were pregnant!

The joy DJ and I felt was amazing. We shared that joy with our family and close friends, and we were all looking forward to meeting our little miracle.

I struggled with morning sickness and fatigue for weeks and weeks, but I could not have been happier. 

My dreams were coming true, and all of the discomfort was going to be worth it. 

At 10 weeks we went to see the doctor for the first time. Now, with the previous pregnancy, we never got around to seeing a doctor as the baby passed away before we had the opportunity to do so. We did not know what to expect, but we were ecstatic to be going to meet our baby.

The ultrasound.

"Is that our baby?!"

"Yes it is."

The most amazing thing I had ever experienced, seeing that teeny tiny body inside of mine. 

DJ and I loved each other then more than ever before. 

We were so thrilled and overwhelmed that we did not realize that we couldn't hear a heartbeat.

We were ushered into the doctor's office, where we waited, expecting to hear all about the do's and don't's of pregnancy. We could not believe that we were going to be parents. 

Then the doctor came in.

The baby has no heartbeat.

The baby has no heartbeat.

March 26, 2013, almost 7 months to the day, we lost our second baby.

The tears came, the sorrow, the heartbreak. 

But no anger.

A night and day difference from our previous loss.

This was a huge change for me. DJ was so loving and supportive, we grew closer together rather than further apart. Our loss was great, but we felt the Lord's arms around us, sheltering us from the pain. 

We were blessed with understanding and hope for the future. 

This time around, we let people in. The support of friends and family was overwhelming. From flowers, to dinners, to phone calls and sweet messages, we were blown away by the magnitude of love that was sent our way. Many of the people who reached out to us didn't even realize the impact that their actions had. We realized that God was working behind the scenes for our good, especially at this time. 

While our two little baby angels were in heaven with Him, 

His angels were working here on this earth to bring us strength and comfort.

I think about my babies every single day. 

I yearn for them.

I cry for them.

I miss them.

But I know that I am stronger because of them. There was a time when I could not possibly imagine what good could come out of such an experience as this, but the Lord has opened my eyes, and I now recognize all that my sweet husband and I have learned. 

And I am grateful.