Through the remainder of August and the beginning of September, I felt peace. I had loved Ruby with all of my being and I learned a lot through her loss. I felt like I got to see a different size of loss, as opposed to Roch's miscarriage in 2011. I was able to see the hidden blessings and was at peace with whatever lay ahead. We chose to remain open to the next baby, however since it had taken a while for Ruby to be conceived, I assumed that would be the case again.
I fully expected for my cycle to return 4 weeks after our miscarriage. However, on September 8th, exactly a month after we lost Ruby, this happened:
It was light, but it was there. I was FLOORED. 4 weeks ago I had lost my baby and now, on the one-month-mark of her loss, my mind grappled with the news of another baby. After trying for months and months, this pregnancy happened IMMEDIATELY after my miscarriage.
When I found out about Ruby I was excited, to-my-core happy, and on cloud nine. This time, I was completely overwhelmed. I didn't feel ready. I mean, I know we said we were ready, but I didn't expect to conceive so soon. I had gotten a text from a friend that day and felt like there was a reason she was on the other end of the phone, so I told her. Her response: "WOW." There was never a more perfect word for all the emotions I was feeling.
This was just a big bag of jumbled thoughts and feelings, very few of them were good. It took me a few days to just wrap my mind around actually carrying another baby. My HCG had hit zero after Ruby, this was a new baby. A new life. Another friend encouraged me to fall in love with this baby. She gently urged me to accept him/her and be happy for this new life. At her prompting, I allowed myself to get just-a-bit attached. I let my mind circle around the fact that I had a May 19th due date. I let my mind think of scenarios of the Springtime with a new baby in tow. I let hope creep in.
That day I called into the doctor to set up my first appointment. They requested blood work to check HCG (no LMP, remember) and we would guesstimate gestation and make an appointment accordingly.
On the 5th day of knowing I was carrying this new life, it was Annie's birthday. We headed to Chik-Fil-A to do a mini-party with her BFF Lucy. These two are only 5 days apart so it was a big day to celebrate them both.
After our Chik-Fil-A adventure, we stopped for my blood draw. This wasn't a sad blood draw though... this one was to confirm my baby's existence and set us on the track to appointments and ultrasounds and beyond.
But when I got home from that blood draw, I the loss had begun. Only 5 days after I found out. NOT EVEN hitting 5 weeks yet, I lost my baby. When the nurse from my OB called, she began the conversation with a sympathetic tone. I already knew what she would tell me. My HCG was very low: I was going though another loss.
This time I wasn't sad. This time I didn't feel in mourning. This time I felt rage. I was angry. I had such a hard time accepting that I was pregnant again so soon. I felt like Ruby was being replaced and then, just when I was getting excited for this baby, it's GONE.
Through Ruby's loss and my acceptance this time, I didn't doubt God. I know He has a plan. I know there is a purpose, but I couldn't wrap my mind around this. I couldn't understand. Why give me a baby to take it away. Why give this desire and bring a baby to fruition if it's going to be ripped out from under me?
I was mad.
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I wanted to run far away from God... far away from His promises. I wanted to turn my back. I felt like kicking and screaming. I pictured him holding my shoulders firmly and me three-year-old style fighting against Him.
I have NEVER felt like that before. Ever.
That Thursday night, a few days into my miscarriage as these feelings got stronger, I knew I had to run towards Him because everything in me wanted to run away. After I had the kids in bed, I quickly googled adoration to see if any local churches were open. One was.
(Adoration is when the Blessed Sacrament is exposed and people can come and spend time in His presence. It's usually in a small chapel: quiet and peaceful.)
This church had adoration until 9pm. I google-mapped the address, notified Jim, and left. As I got into the car WordFM was playing I Will Praise You In This Storm. This song, I believe, was about losing a child so it speaks RIGHT to the heart of what I was feeling. Before I could turn off the radio or put the car in reverse, the chorus snag:
I will praise you in this storm
I will lift my hands
You are who you are, no matter where I am
Every tear I've cried, you hold in your hand
Never left my side
And though my heart is torn
I will praise you in this storm
Ya'll. I was FURIOUS. Those words ripped into me. My eyes welled... and my fist beat the steering wheel... I cried out. I kept saying "No.... no... NO. I can't. I just can't."
I felt so abandoned. So heartbroken. So angry. How could I possibly praise Him when I was going through a second loss in 5 weeks? How could I praise him when I so badly wanted a baby and have a second one taken away. I can't even get out of the gate of pregnancy...
I just felt broken.
But I put the car in reverse, then drive, and I eventually arrived at that church. I got there at 8:40... 20 minutes to spend in quiet, reflection, in His presence. I don't think I prayed a whole lot. I know I did some thinking. But more importantly, I stayed. I went to Him, and sat with Him and I stayed.
I left that night feeling the anger had released its grip. I won't say that it was a magic cure, but I didn't feel like running anymore. I didn't understand. I didn't get it, I felt hurt and bruised, but more stable. I felt like He was there and I do know that His plans are so good, even when I don't understand them.
In the days that followed, I named that baby Rhys (/reese/). I felt like the name was a nod to St. Teresa, who I always felt a pull toward and also, the kids wanted a boy. I don't know the gender of any of these babies, but they wanted a boy, so boy this was.
A week after that miscarriage, we went to the beach.
I was able to use that week to completely unwind. I used that week to reset. I didn't push myself. I didn't hustle. And I chose a way to remember Roch, Ruby, and Rhys.
In early October I had an appointment with one of the PAs at my OBs office. She has worked in an infertility office for years and two miscarriages back-to-back now qualified me as recurrent loss. We discussed the steps ahead and went over all my history. The plan was to get progesterone tested and get an infertility panel, looking at all the hormones and different levels. She gave me the green light to try again and there was hope ahead...
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