A Sad Memorial Day Weekend

Despite getting to spend the holiday weekend with the whole family (and attending Celeste's dance recital, and having friends over as well), a dark cloud hung over me this whole weekend, and it still hasn't fully cleared away. I will be happy to post pictures from Celeste's recital (and some other fun stuff) in a few days, but I needed to write out a few of my thoughts and get them off my chest.

At the end of April, I found out I was pregnant. On Friday, May 25th, I went in for my first OB appointment, and my doctor saw the baby on a sonogram but couldn't find a heartbeat. On Tuesday the 29th, I went into St. Joseph's Hospital in Tucson for a D&C procedure (basically, removing the deceased baby/placenta/etc from the uterus). So, today, I am officially "not pregnant"--anymore.

These are the bare facts, but they don't really cover how I'm feeling inside. There is no one word that can describe my feelings this last month (and especially the last week); they've been all over the map. Of course, I had been feeling pretty exhausted/grumpy/nauseous for the last month, but I was able to feel lots of excitement, hope and anticipation as well...I knew that my discomforts were all in service of a worthy goal...to have another child in our house. (It also probably goes without saying that my "pregnant brain" is one of the main reasons this blog hasn't gotten a lot of attention lately.)

Then, last Friday, I found out that all my sickness was for naught, and the poor little baby wouldn't ever see the light of day. It made it to about eight weeks or so, then...nothing. The doctors all told me the baby probably had a genetic defect that wouldn't have allowed it to survive. Still, it has been harder than I imagined to convince myself that I am not to blame for anything. Being a mother is all about taking care of children, isn't it? Why couldn't I take good enough care of this one? Or, why wasn't I given the chance to take care of this one?

I realize there aren't any real answers to these questions, but they plague me anyway. I've also spent the last few days feeling pangs of regret, jealousy, or bitterness when I see the many happy, excited pregnant women around me...or when I see a cute drooling baby sitting on its mama's lap. It's hard to orient myself to anticipate something, to prepare for big changes in my own life, only to be told that they weren't coming after all. It's frustrating to see my "baby" timetable start all over again, especially when Nathan and I have discussed an "end time" for having children. I'm starting to see my biological window of opportunity swinging shut, and it's scary.

However...despite all these frustrating feelings, I have also realized I am far from alone in feeling this way. So many women have gone through this exact situation, including several whom I count as friends. I also know many other women (some in my own family) whose miscarriages have been much more traumatic, both physically and emotionally, than my own. Their poise and their serenity have been so inspiring and encouraging to me; if I can approach this situation with even half their strength, I'll thank my lucky stars.

It has also been very helpful for me this weekend to count my blessings, over and over. Most of all, I am blessed to have married a wonderful man who loves me, and whom I love very much. And we have been blessed with three absolutely beautiful, wonderful daughters. They make every day interesting, exciting, and inspiring. This experience has taught me what a rare and precious treasure children are; there are so many wonderful women out there who have not been able to have any children at all. I don't know why not everyone is able to have children, but I know that I must be more grateful every day for the ones I have, and not spend too much time lamenting the ones I haven't had.

I am also grateful for the blessings of the temple of the Lord. I am so grateful my family can be together forever. I don't know all the mysteries of life; I don't know why some live so long, and why others die so very young. I know the Lord knows all His children, He loves them, and He has a plan for each and every one of them. I don't know what his "plan" for me and this lost baby were...but nor do I doubt his mercy and his justice. I have faith that this life has a great purpose, and that our setbacks are experiences we can learn from, push through, and grow wiser from the suffering of them.

A friend yesterday reminded me that it's okay to take time to grieve. I hope she's right, because thinking about it all still hurts, and probably will never feel completely "okay." But I still have time...and hope. I hope we can try for another child. I hope I can find peace and comfort from the Lord, and from my friends and family. I hope I can enjoy my summer vacation with my kids, and give them all of my attention and effort.

I also hope my blog will be a little less "heavy-minded" the next time I post; but it has felt good to type all this down, and explain how I feel. I am grateful for this opportunity to share my thoughts, and hope all my readers understand this dip into the sentimental. Thanks for playing along.