Sometimes a trial just sucks!

I've thought about this post a lot. I've wanted to write it for two reasons: first I think it will help me, and second, I want to be able to help others. I'm not an extremely private person, but I also don't usually share my trials with the world. We all have different trials. Even if your trials seem similar to mine, we are affected by them completely differently. I try to tell myself that Heavenly Father gives us trials that he knows we can conquer. Yes, at the time it seems impossible, but He knows us and would never put a road block in front of us that he wasn't sure we could eventually get past. The most important thing I've learned about these trials is that we can't get past them without asking for help. That's why I'm writing this post. I want you to know that you can ask for my help.

This past month I've been facing a trial that I know a lot of women face—miscarriage. I would much rather be telling you all that I'm pregnant and expecting another miracle, but unfortunately I can only tell you of two failed pregnancies. I miscarried the first time just a few months ago, in November. The first time was hard, but I was only 4 weeks. In November I was so excited to have gotten pregnant, because it took us 18 months to get pregnant with Kinley. This time had only taken 2 months, and although it ended poorly, it was nice to know we were able to get pregnant without going through the pain of waiting for 18 months. 

I was shocked again to get pregnant 3 months later. I was so excited! So many of my friends were pregnant and I was excited that it seemed to be "in the water". On Wednesday March 28th, Jason, Kinley and I stepped into the doctor’s office for a sonogram, expecting to see a 7 week 2 day old little peanut. Instead, we saw an empty gestational sac. We were quite surprised and confused. After speaking with the doctor we were told that most likely the baby hadn't developed past the first few weeks and my body just hadn't recognized the loss. The doctor gave us the option of scheduling a D&C (basically removal of the pregnancy by suction), or having blood drawn to check my hcg levels. I decided I needed proof that the pregnancy was not viable and opted for the blood work.  

I spent 2 days crying and feeling quite depressed and angry. It had come to a point that I didn't feel I could control much of anything. On Thursday night I asked Jason to give me a blessing, which he agreed to. Sometimes there is no better cure than a blessing. The next day I felt mostly like myself. I was so thankful that Jason was able and willing to give me a blessing. 

My first hcg test was over 46,000--nice and high. I went back 2 days later to repeat the test, which came back at 7,500 less. The doctor said this was consistent with a miscarriage and once again offered the D&C. Again I chose to wait because my levels were still quite high. I scheduled a sonogram for Monday (April 2nd), in hopes that we would see a change. On Monday, we saw the same thing: an empty sac. But still I could not accept the D&C. The sac had now grown to 8 weeks, consistent with my dates. I decided I would need another sonogram before making a decision. There are many women who do not see the baby until later than expected due to things such as a tipped uterus, so I just couldn’t end the pregnancy with that little bit of possibility.

On Monday April 9th, we went in for another sonogram. We were hoping for a miracle, but unfortunately there was still no change. We talked with the doctor and decided it was time to move on. If we continued to wait for my body to miscarry naturally, there is no set time of how long it would take, and with my hormone levels so high it could have taken months. My doctor agreed to do the procedure whenever we were available. He scheduled it for Tuesday during his lunch break. My blood had been drawn and my hcg level had dropped to about 28,000.  

Up to this point, the blessing I had received was working wonders. As we left the office Monday afternoon I realized I would have to accept the loss and move on now. After almost 2 weeks of knowing that this may be the outcome of this pregnancy, I still wasn't ready for it--you can never be ready for this. It is not fair--it sucks--and nothing anybody says can make it better!  

I had not allowed myself to mourn the first loss. I told myself it was too early in the pregnancy to get sad about it. After letting that build up, I was having a hard time accepting that it was ok to be sad, mad, frustrated, and all the other feelings I was having with the second loss. After my mom told me I had every right to feel those things, I finally let it all out. Holding it in does no good. No matter when the loss happens, it’s a loss and you deserve to mourn it.

I'm grateful for good friends who could watch Kinley, tell me what to expect, and get me up and off my couch.  

I know this is a really sensitive subject, and some people aren't able to talk about it. I also know that everyone needs someone to lean on during this, and one's husband isn't always that person. Jason wasn't able to tell me what to expect with the surgery, or watch Kinley and also be at the hospital with me. That's why I am so glad to have good friends to fill in the gaps. I'm glad that somebody was able to tell me what to expect, because the unknown is always particularly hard for me. I just want all my friends to know that if they ever have to go through something like this, I'm here for you. You can't get through this alone (well, not as easily anyway).

Today, exactly 2 weeks after the surgery, I’m feeling better. My mom flew out for a week to help me with Kinley and let me cry. I had an allergic reaction to one of the medications, and I was in a lot of pain. With the surgery and the allergy my mind and body were too tired to keep up with Kinley. I hadn’t admitted to needing my mom, but luckily she came anyway. My mom left on Sunday; I am so grateful she was here because by the time she left I was mentally, emotionally, and physically in a much better place than when she had arrived.

So far, I think the most important thing Jason has learned (or is trying to learn) is that the pain will come and go, and sometimes I just need a good cry.

There are a lot of things that I have left out, but know that if you have to go through a loss and need someone to confide in, please know I’m an open book and here to help.