The Best Worst Day Of My Life.. Part One..

When I started this blog, I had every intention of continuing it!! I thought that at least one post a month would be quite the leaps and bounds accomplishment in my self-inflicted overly scheduled, busy life.. Little did I realize what was merely one short month away from happening to us which would forever alter my life and my view of it... A loss... A common happening of many, which at times is swept under the rug and dismissed as suddenly as it came for some, but which left me feeling like the proverbial rug had been ripped out from beneath me..

It was January 2010, we knowingly and excitedly removed the digital pregnancy test from its sleeve, tossed the instructions, and proceeded to get down to pee-on-stick business with the skilled precision of those who could only be described as: experienced! Afterall, this was possible baby-to-be number four that we had "practiced" for with great zeal and had been anticipating for several weeks now!! Getting pregnant was always easy for us, to say the least.. We had a running joke amongst ourselves and our friends that all we had to do was LOOK at each other, then BOOM: baby on board!!... hahaha!!... None of that mattered now though, it was spinning hourglass time amidst giggles mixed with "tick-tock" impatient hand gestures and "hurry up!!" comments.. Ya know, the good stuff in life that you'll always remember moment... The hourglass stops spinning. After a flash of gray nothingness, the word PREGNANT appears in the tiny digital pee-stick window!!! YES!!! We're PREGNANT!! Tears, a long hug followed by the strategic, hard to place without-teeth-crashing-together due to the HUGE SMILES stuck to our faces kiss... the pee-stick photo op begins: the held in front of my belly pics, the bicep bulge fist pump pics, the placed on the counter pics (taken at every varying angle possible! ;)... followed by the "big announcement" to the kids conversation which was met with giddy squeals and unimaginable zest, joy, and laughter... then the "Guess what JUST happened?!" phone calls to family too far away to tell in person... Inevitably, especially in this day and age, after all family had shared in our wonderful news, the facebook announcement!... What's next??! We wait..

We wait on Tricare, our military insurance, to let us know WHO is MY primary care doctor and WHERE I can actually be seen as it was that we had JUST moved to a new post and had put this on the back burner until now... There is some confusion that goes on along with some mild frustration, but finally: confirmation is done, congrats are given, referrals are approved, and appointments are set!!.. A new doctor who came highly recommended (in all of the online reviews I had read, anyway!! ;) with a beautiful office and state-of-the-art equipment who also had access to one of the best hospitals in the area!!... This could only be the description that set the stage for a perfect pregnancy and delivery... or so I thought.. It's appointment day!! We go in..

It was a beautiful day in March.. It was a Monday.. The sun was shining, there was a breeze, and the smell of Spring was just starting to kiss the air... The office was even more beautiful in person than it had looked and been described online! And the front desk staff.. Man!! Were they ever overly nice and unexpectedly friendly and welcoming!! You never know what you'll get when encountering healthcare staff; but this was a welcome change from our prior experiences, that's for sure!!.. We happily began filling out our new patient forms with all three of our excited children making busy themselves at the play table beside us.. The door next to us opens.. Our name has been called.. It's our turn!! We go in..

"Oh! An ultrasound??? Wow! That's great!!", I reply to the technician as she announces where we are going and what is going on.... This is not "the norm" for us military families, so we're surprised but super excited!!.. "Can we videotape our ultrasounds??", I ask.. (The military hospitals do not allow this....) "Yes!! Absolutely!!", she replies.. Darn. I didn't bring our camera... Wish I would have known!! "We're just doing this for exact dating purposes... You'll have more, don't worry!!", she says... She must've read my mind, I thought to myself!!! We’ll have MORE, not just one?? WOW!! Super awesome!! I’m excited..

We're situated. The lights go off. The blank screen is humming and glowing on the wall above us.. The kids, the hubby, and I look on in silent excitement... The warm jelly is applied to my belly as questions are asked... We should be just about twelve weeks now.. The ultrasound begins... An unfamiliar sound is heard: silence. The technician zooms in and turns the volume up.. Her cheery expression is gone, replaced with a serious brow-furrowed look of concentration as she inputs information and hurriedly pushes buttons.. She turns the volume off.. extreme silence.. My heart sinks.. I can't look at my kids now. I'm trying not to cry. "Don't worry!! Sometimes, this happens early on in pregnancy... Are you sure of your dates??", the technician asks.. I'm sure of my dates. I'm also sure that there is no need to be excited or worry at all anymore. There isn’t any heartbeat... "Let me try a vaginal ultrasound.." she says.. I am reluctant but look over at my husband who is hopeful and helplessly assuring me that everything is just fine.. "Remember, you have a tilted uterus or whatever...??" he says, trying to pass on his hopeful vibe to me.. It's not working. I should be twelve weeks now. I know you can hear the baby's heartbeat by now, 'tilted uterus or whatever' or not... I agree to the next step.

The technician leaves the room.. My husband comes over to the table where I lay with our children at his feet. He leans in for a hug. "Everything is going to be okay..", he says. I reply, "I told you. I knew something was wrong..", as my kids tug and hug at me.. He gives me that classic head-tilt look.. They shuffle into the bathroom that is joined to the room so that I may dis-robe in private. Thoughts race through my mind.. "I knew that NOT having any morning sickness meant something, especially for ME (someone who has ALWAYS had remarkable morning sickness and the symptoms that accompany it)... I knew it. I told him. I knew.. 'Oh, that's crazy!! Consider it a blessing!! No morning sickness!! Hooray!!' he says.. Phumff.. So much for THAT... Blessing my ASS!!" I think to myself... "I can't believe this... What do we tell our kids??.. What do we tell our family??.. What do we tell anyone??.. Oh God, what happens NEXT?!" horrible thoughts begin to fill my mind.. (A knock at the door..) "Come in. I'm ready!!" I say, but really, I’m not..

The technician enters the room.. My little family has now joined me as well.. Here we go.. The next, invasive ultrasound begins.. still nothing.. Nothing is being heard.. Nothing is being said.. I still haven't cried. I'm rationalizing and calculating what happens next in my mind at this point.. The technician says that we should come back in a week to further assess where we're at.. What does THAT mean?? Is that it?? What happens now?? I get dressed. "Follow me.." she says.. Where are we going?? I wonder to myself as we walk... Oh.. that room.. the one with the nice pictures and comfy chairs: two facing one. No exam table. No equipment. This is where they tell us, I think to myself.. We go in..

Our children, still oblivious to what is actually going on, surround the room. They have every corner covered as we wait. We're not saying anything to each other, my husband and I.. He's worried about the kids making too much noise and tries to motion to them to keep it down with his hands and makes the cliche, "SHHH!!" sound that kids never seem to actually hear.. I'm just staring. Staring at nothing. Waiting. (A knock) The door opens. It's the doctor whose smiling picture I saw on the website!!.. except her smile is nowhere to be found. She's serious. She's concerned. Is that pity on her face?? The conversation begins. The suggestion to come back in one week to see if there are any changes is thrown out there.. The might's and maybe's are listed.. I blurt out, "What if there just isn't any heartbeat??.. There isn't any growth.. What happens then?? Please, don't sugar coat this. I need to know what the reality of all of this is.." The REAL conversation begins: let nature take its course or D&C; it's my choice. I opt for the ‘nature taking it's course’ option. I verbalize that I never want to know what a D&C feels like.. I can't go that course. I won’t. I'll let "nature" take its course.. I turn to "nature" in my mind, in other words: God. "Please, God, don't let this go on for another week.. If the baby is already gone, let my body do this naturally and as soon as possible, if possible, please!!.. and please, don't let it happen in front of my kids.. I don't want it to happen when I'm with my kids... Amen." I don't hear the rest of the conversation with the doctor.. My thoughts are on our minivan waiting for us outside and getting OUT of there.. Another appointment is set. Sad eyes of the staff fall upon me in a consoling manner as I begin leave.. There's the door! I can see it!! Almost there. I reach for it..

The March midday breeze hits me in the face as I open the door.. The kids are jovial and joyfully running to the van now.. My husband is a few steps behind me. Good - the parking lot is clear, empty – cars but no people. Tears. Finally. Many, many tears.. I get into the van. We drive away. My husband is saying something, but I can't hear him. I don't think I want to hear him.. My tears are hot and burn my eyes as they fall into my lap.. Stare out the window, I think to myself.. Just stare out the window..

That night after our kids are snuggled and tucked in bed, I cozy myself into my own bed and decide to read in an attempt to keep my mind off of what is happening.. It's hard to read. My eyes hurt. My husband decides to take a shower.. I can hear the water running, but he hasn't gotten in yet. Oh God. What was that??!.. I feel a gush.. I know.. (I breathe out deeply, more than a sigh..) I put the book down. I brace myself. I slowly push back our solid white down-filled duvet to reveal myself and the stark white sheets beneath.. I'm staring at the wall.. I know, but I don't want to know.. I close my eyes.. "Thank you, God, for allowing this to happen AFTER my kids are asleep in their own beds.." I utter in my mind.. I look. Bright. Red. An amazing contrast against the white of the bed. Blood. Tears. How could I possibly have any tears left??... A lot of tears.. I'm in the bathroom now.. My husband is confused.. There aren't words. I have no words for him. I just point to our bed as I scramble to get into the shower as quickly as possible.. I want to cry out, rip the shower curtain down, smash my fists into a wall - I WANT TO PHYSICALLY DO SOMETHING THAT DEMONSTRATES MY OVERWHELMING SORROW.. but I don't. I don't want to wake our precious children who are sleeping in their beds.. All I have are my tears.. My husband has now seen the heartbreak that is on display in our bed.. He rushes to me, "Are you okay??" He's crying now. "Yes.", I manage to get out.. "I'll be right back..!", he says.. He rushes out of the bathroom. He's frantic. There’s a lot of commotion. He's getting rid of the evidence.. I can hear him ripping off sheets from our bed.. I hear the pipes creak.. He must have started the washer, I think to myself.. He's back. He helps me out of the shower. Oh, he has replaced the sheets... Red... of course.. Only now would I only have white or red sheets in my house... Of course.

Sleep is hard to find but tears are not.. My pillow is wet, soaked. Tears. Not much is being said.. What is there to say really??.. We wait for morning.

A call is made by my husband to the doctor's office the next morning.. Instructions are given.. "I'm so sorry's" are said and accepted.. The phone is hung up. He makes another call.. Family.. Many phone calls are made now.. But I don't want to speak to anyone.. I don't want to speak at all.. I'm waiting for my next appointment now... Only a few more days.

That night the pain starts. It's constant and not what I thought it would be.. I'm in labor.. Labor pains to deliver our baby, but it's not in the best hospital in the area surrounded by state-of-the-art equipment with the doctor who came highly recommended.. This isn't the perfect delivery that I had envisioned at all!.. Morning comes and I am ready to get to the doctor's office as soon as possible.. I'm still contracting and in an incredible amount of pain.. My husband is on "call duty" again.. He gets us in. We leave. We have the kids with us.. They are happy, still oblivious to what's really going on.. They're excited even: We're going to the "Baby Doctor" again! Hooray!!.. if they only knew... They'll know soon enough. We have to tell them. But, for now, let them be oblivious.. Let them be happy.

We made it. We're here. We're at the doctor's office.. again. It's Wednesday now. The parking lot is empty. We wait for the doors to open. An elderly couple parks beside us. The old man who drove smiles at me. I try to smile back.. He notices that I've been crying. He looks away. I look away. I have my eyes fixed on the office door now. I see someone. It's open! We had already agreed that My husband would just stay in the van with the kids.. So, I hurriedly walk into the office as quickly as possible.. I want to ask the front desk women if I can wait in a private room, but the words won't come out.. All I can muster up is tears, but they know. They can read my mind, too.. "Do you want to come back and lay down in a room to wait??" one of the women says.. I just nod in a "YES! Yes-yes-yes!! I DO!!" motion while my tears crash onto the marble floor.. I can see them as I stand at the other door waiting for it to open.. I don't want to look at anything or anyone, so I stare at the floor.. She opens the door.. I follow her footsteps..

Waiting.. I’m in a room. It’s dark. The lights are off, but light manages to shine in from beneath the door.. I’m still crying, but the tears are slow now.. I’m laying on an exam table staring at the wall.. They’ve given me a pillow and a warm blanket.. My doctor is finishing up a delivery of a live baby at the hospital next to the office.. I’m waiting to deliver mine.. I hear something. It’s music. I listen. I’m surprised… Classic rock?? Soft rock?? Easy listening?? No. Christian music. You’ve got to be kidding me.. I notice a framed poster photo on the wall.. It’s a scripture.. I pay better attention to the music.. It’s a song about a woman who is going through a hard time but trusts and believes in God, keeps her faith, and then finds comfort.. My eyes well up again.. I’m not sure how my body is producing all of these tears! I had thought for sure that they would dry up by now.. I am relieved.. I was ready to be irritated with the music choice that I would be forced to listen to while officially losing my baby.. Instead, I was comforted and felt like God really was watching over me.. I had no idea that this was a Christian doctor’s office.. Who knew?? It wasn't advertised or blasted all over everything.. There weren’t the typical “God bless you’s” and “Glory Hallelujah’s”, etc that you would expect from the people who worked there.. Simple. Almost in disguise around me before; but now, I noticed.. (A knock, the lights come on..) It’s my doctor.. She’s here..

We have a brief conversation of what all had gone on and was going on and what would happen next.. She sends me back to the ultrasound room.. the technician remembers me. We go in.. The baby is still there.. Still, no signs of any life.. But now there is movement.. I can see where the blood is trying to move the baby out of my body.. The technician tries to console me and briefly tells me that she had just gone through the same thing about a month or so prior and wished there was something that she could do for me.. We both feel badly for each other.. It’s over.. I’m back in the exam room..

This is it.. It’s time to deliver my baby… The doctor and the nurse are amazing.. None of the implements or equipment were taken out and nothing was started until I was ready – there was no rush.. We discussed every step that would happen. I was made to feel like a person, not a patient, not routine. There was empathy for me, and it was real. I’m ready now.

The doctor begins the exam.. I am fully ready to complete this delivery she says.. but she needs to help things along.. “Foreceps, please..” The nurse hands the shiny sterile metal tool to the doctor.. I am in extreme pain at this point.. Tears are flowing from my tortured eyes.. The doctor slowly and cautiously begins the extraction of my precious baby.. She is consoling in her movements as well as her words.. I can hear pain in her voice.. My view is focused on the bright light above me.. My hands are shaking..The nurse places her hand on mine.. “I’m so sorry..” she says.. Intense pain.. Then, relief.. It’s over.. My baby is being placed into a plastic sterile container.. I know this, because I saw the nurse retrieve it from beneath a cloth that was covering the tray of supplies on the table..

“What happens now??” I ask.. “Where… does… my baby go..” I can barely speak.. It actually physically hurts my throat to speak.. I am told that the baby will be sent away for an exam to be checked for abnormalities and so on.. I fix my eyes on the container that is being hidden by cloth.. More words are said, but I do not hear them.. I am left to revel in the reality of what has just happened, alone.. Again, there is no rush.. I am in no hurry.. Alone, I cry.. I can’t believe it, but I can still cry..