Losing Seven, Part 2

If you missed the first part of this story, you can click here to get all caught up. 

I left off the other post right after finding out on Wednesday, May 31st that our precious baby Seven no longer had a beating heart. My D&C was scheduled for Friday, June 2nd at 8:00am, leaving us with Thursday, June 1st to spend waiting for Friday. 

What do you do with yourself for a whole day knowing that your baby is no longer alive? Aside from being completely heartbroken and overwhelmed with grief, I was also terrified that the miscarriage would begin before my D&C. I decided to spend the day in bed wallowing and praying, and that's pretty much what I did. I was incredibly thankful that Chris had taken off work and that my parents were here to care for the children. I was certainly not mentally up for caring for anyone. 

Chris, my parents, my sister, her daughter, and all my children took an outing to our local library that morning to sign up for the summer reading program, then went out for lunch. This left me at the house by myself for a good span of time, which is what I really needed. I needed time with my grief, time with my pain, and time with my thoughts to process. After they all got home, the children went down for a nap. Later that evening, my friend Tia brought us food for dinner and visited for a while. I spent the entire day just taking it easy, crying as I needed, being alone as I needed, and praying. 

That evening, before the big kids went to bed, I went in Brianna's room and talked with her about me going to the hospital the next day. I made sure she knew what was going to happen, and asked her if she wanted to say good-bye to the baby since I would be gone before she got up the next morning. Brianna had talked to the baby and kissed my belly every single day since we told her I was pregnant, so I felt it was very important to give her the opportunity to say good-bye. I don't regret that decision, but I will say it was one of the most difficult things I've ever been through. Brianna just cried and sobbed and bawled and said how much she didn't want the baby to die. She was SO upset, and we just laid in her bed sobbing together. She loved our baby so, so much, and watching her grieve absolutely shattered my heart. She kept saying, "Don't go. I don't want you to go tomorrow. Just don't go" and I had to explain to her why I had to go. I had to remind her over and over that the baby was already gone. It was excruciating. 

After spending about 45 minutes with Brianna, I went to Brenson to give him a chance to say good-bye. He was less emotional about the whole thing than Brianna had been, but he also cried and snuggled in close to me and didn't want to let go. He kept asking me why the baby died, and of course I didn't have an answer for that. He also asked me, "Mom, did you take your shot yesterday?" and said, "I prayed and prayed that our baby wouldn't die." He just couldn't understand why our baby died when we had done everything "right". Trying to help my child process something that I myself couldn't even process at that time was one of the hardest things I've ever had to do. Truly. I've never been so heartbroken in my life as I was that night holding my children as they sobbed over the death of their sibling. 

In the 36 hours since I had seen our lifeless, still baby on the ultrasound screen, I had prayed and prayed that I wouldn't begin the miscarriage on my own at home. I had seen that bit of brown mucous then blood on Wednesday, but there hadn't been anything like that since. And while I was grateful for that, it did funny things to my mind. I found myself questioning what I saw on the ultrasound. Was I sure the baby was dead? Was I sure there was no heartbeat? Was the baby really only measuring 13w6d? What if we just missed something? I knew these thoughts weren't rational, but I struggled with them anyway. The mind is powerful, and the doubt was definitely there. However, when I got up on Friday morning and used the restroom, there was quite a bit of blood. I was actually thankful for it because it helped ease my mind that what I saw in that ultrasound room was real. The baby really was gone. My body was preparing to expel the baby's tissue, and I needed to go in for this procedure. 

Friday morning, Chris and I left the house at around 6:00am for the hospital. When we arrived at the hospital, my friends Kendall and Angie were there waiting for us. They hugged me, prayed with me in the parking lot, then came inside to wait with us before I was called back to be prepped. Like I mentioned in my last post, it's an incredible thing to have friends and family who are there without being asked. They just came and stood by me and prayed for me and sat with us, helping give us strength for this journey. 

I was taken back to a room around 7:30am where a nurse got my IV started. As soon as she did, I told her my hand hurt. The pain rapidly increased, and the nurse realized my IV had blown out. She quickly pulled it out and started a new one. I hate having an IV put in . . . it's the worst for me, so I was really upset it had to be done twice. Then, the anesthesiologist walked in the room and said, "So we're going to make sure there's no more babies, huh?" I looked up at him, startled, and said, "No, this is a D&C." He quickly looked at his paperwork and began falling all over himself apologizing to me. He got confused and thought I was in to have my tubes tied. He was very sincere in his apologies - and I was grateful that he apologized - but he kept going on and on and on about how sorry he was. I really just wanted him to stop talking about it and get out of my room! He actually made it more awkward by going on and on about it. 

Next, Dr. N came in for just a few minutes. I asked him about doing genetic testing on the baby's tissue, and he said he really didn't see any reason to do that. He felt like the baby had a defect not compatible with life and there's nothing more we really need to know. I also asked him about finding out the baby's gender. He said that I could pay for a blood test, but did I really want to pay thousands of dollars just to know? Chris and I ultimately decided that we didn't, but I'm not sure we don't regret that. 

When I had my D&C with B3, I wasn't very emotional. I had cried my buckets of tears in the eight days leading up to it, and I knew the baby's body had already been expelled from my body. This time, though? I was a mess. The tears just flowed and flowed, and I was powerless to stop them. As the nurses wheeled me away for surgery, my tears just soaked my gown and the sheets. The thought of having my baby removed from my body was just horrific, even though I knew she was no longer living. It was so final. It was truly the end of this journey. And I hated the thought of it. 

The D&C went smoothly, and we were back home by about noon. I spent most of the afternoon in bed, and later that evening made a social media announcement. 

"I am truly at a loss for the right words in this moment as my heart is overwhelmed. We learned this week that our precious gift - our unborn baby we love so much - has passed away just shy of 16 weeks gestation. We are all devastated, and there are many things about this that we just can't understand. However, we do know that we have a good, faithful Father who loves us the same as He did yesterday and as He will tomorrow. We know He will carry us as we attempt to navigate the waters of loss and grief. We know that without Him, this would be impossible. We praise Him as the giver of life and healing and peace."

Why are things like this so very difficult to put into words? Once again, we were shown an incredible outpouring of support, but it hurt so badly to post that. 

That evening, my sister and her family came over to eat with us and just spend time with us. It felt good to be surrounded by loved ones. 

Physically, I was feeling fine. I had some bloating from the surgery, but it was all gone by Saturday morning. Of course, that was its own difficult hurdle. With all the bloat gone, my belly looked so small compared to how it had looked before the D&C. It was a horrible realization when I looked in the mirror and saw how loose my shirt was around my belly. It was yet another stark reminder that our baby was gone. 

That Sunday, Brenson ended up being sick, so I stayed home from church with him. I was honestly relieved to not have to face anyone yet. I felt like I just wanted to stay in my bed and under my covers forever at this point. Even the next day when the kids had a chiropractor appointment, I couldn't go in with them so Chris took them by himself. I just wasn't ready to face the world. Later that day, my friend Joy Lin came to sit with me and cry with me. Thankfully, Chris took both Monday and Tuesday off work to stay home and manage everything. 

My hand ended up bruising pretty badly from the IV mishap. I hated seeing at that stupid bruise.

The mail ended up being a huge trigger for me after my D&C. On Saturday, I received a package in the mail full of maternity clothes I had ordered about a week before. Also Saturday, I received my 16 week Bump Update in my email. On Monday, our insurance sent us a packet on their maternity program. I was constantly feeling these terrible heart pangs and being reduced to tears.

However, we also received some beautiful cards expressing condolences to us, and our friends had a Hannah's Hope box sent to us filled with a few things to help us remember and grieve baby Seven. I knew what was in the box when we received it, so it took me almost a week to be in a place where I could open it (and in the meantime, one of the children sat on the box and crushed it a little). Seeing the contents of that box was yet another heart-wrenching thing, but I know I'll cherish it always.

On Wednesday, exactly a week after finding out Seven no longer had a heartbeat, my friends Angie and Amy came by to visit. They packed up my maternity clothes for me so I wouldn't have to deal with it, and hauled away some baby things our friend, Kendall, had given me. I know I've already said this, but I was so, so, so grateful for all the support I was given.

I continued to lay low the entire week after the D&C, but by the next Sunday (June 11th), I knew I needed to get out and starting facing the world again. I needed to go to worship to start healing my shattered heart. I needed to hug my church family, and sit in a pew with my babies. It was the first time I had fixed my hair, worn real clothes, and put on make-up since we lost the baby.

I knew I had one more major hurdle I needed to get through before I could even begin the process of moving forward, and that was my D&C follow-up appointment with Dr. N. I dreaded walking back into his office, but I knew it was just something I had to get through. My appointment was on Tuesday, June 13th. I wanted to have Chris and the children with me for comfort, so we all went and made an outing out of it. It was kind of strange because I was taken to this room I had never been in before. It looked like an office, complete with a desk, comfy chair, and couch.

Dr. N came in, calmer than his usual self. He asked how I was feeling, then clarified that he was really concerned about "my head". I gave him a partial smile and said, "I'm going to be okay." We chatted just a bit more, then left his office for possibly the last time. It was hard. It was hard to walk in, and it was hard to walk out.

Just a few days after this appointment, I came across these shirts as I was unpacking the next size up in clothes for Brooke and Brecklyn.

Who knew that seeing something as simple as a shirt could cause one to feel like they're drowning in a sea of pain? Why we had to go through this again is something I will never understand. It's such an indescribable, excruciating pain that will never fully go away. However, I do know that these types of trials can draw us closer to the One who loves us more than we could ever imagine or comprehend, and I pray that this journey is doing just that.

There's no possible way for us to know what the future holds for our family. I mean, we never would have EVER thought we would be where we are right now after years and years of infertility, a surprise pregnancy, and a second trimester loss. But here we are. At this point, we're just trying to keep our focus on Jesus, loving each other, and allowing the waves of pain and grief come and go as needed.

Thank you to everyone who has loved and supported our family during this time of loss and grief.