Please save my baby.

To anyone who may be reading this, it is a very raw account of what my husband and I have been going through over the past month. If miscarriage is a sensitive subject for you at this time, please be advised that the following could be very triggering.

 

As I sit here writing, or venting rather, I’m forced to go back to March 5th, 2017. This night would forever change our lives. I told my husband that we were pregnant on Valentines day. I was so nervous. We weren’t trying to get pregnant and hadn’t planned on having children right away, we are just about to reach our first anniversary. He was so supportive when he found out and actually cried, which if you know my husband you know that isn’t in his usual character. We told our family in the days that followed. It was extra special because my brother and his wife are also expecting, due in July.

The morning of March 4th, I was having some light cramping which I was told was normal for some women. I was just starting to feel like there may be some changes happening to my body — I was between 8-9 weeks. I woke up a little after midnight with a sudden pain. I knew instantly. Blood was everywhere. I called my OB/GYN office and waited for what seemed like an eternity for a call back from a physician. Everything had become slow motion. I am a nurse and began walking myself through the preparations for this night.

Go to the bathroom and clean up. Find pads. Get dressed. Back to the toilet. Check phone. Find insurance cards. Back to the toilet. The phone finally rang with a doctor on the other end. I explained to her what had happened and her response was an incredibly drown out “oohhh.” She explained that my body was probably “letting go” and that I could remain at home. I told her that I wanted to go to the ER to get checked out ( after all, I hadn’t been through his before and I was terrified) to which she responded “If that’s what makes you feel better honey.” I had to make the phone call to my husband who was at work and tell him to meet me at the hospital. I drove myself and called my parents on the way. I remember sobbing and saying “I trust you Lord” over and over. By this time I knew our baby was gone. There was just too much blood.

Upon arrival to the ER I was in severe pain both emotionally and physically. I was soaked in blood and feeling everything from anger to embarrassment. My husband helped me into the ER where he had to ASK for a wheelchair. The duration of our stay was about three hours, all of which were filled with unbelievable amounts of unprofessionalism and rudeness. We were a number. A “head in the bed”, not parents grieving the loss of their child. Perhaps I’ll detail our emergency room experience in another blog, but for now we’ll just put it in the “most horrendous display of human indecency that I have personally experienced” category. We finally made it home around four in the morning, completely drained.

The next couple of days I stayed in the bed, only getting up to go to the bathroom. I hardly ate, and drank enough to take my pain medication. I kept playing the scenario over and over in my head. How could this be happening to us. We had to do a followup visit with our OB/GYN doctor who was so very kind to us. He shared his faith with us and promised us that God would bring us through this.

 

“…for I know whom I have believed, and am persuaded that he is able to keep that which I have committed unto him against that day.”

 

When I found out I was pregnant, I immediately started praying for our child. Not that they would go to college, or make good money — not even that the baby would be healthy. That’s right. The only thing I prayed was “Lord, you know our end from our beginning. You know the final destination of my baby. I pray whatever it takes, please let my baby live for you — even if it means that we don’t get to meet him or her — just PLEASE SAVE MY BABY.” I meant every word of that prayer. I had assurance that God would honor it and that he had promised me eternal security for my child. How selfish would it be of me to put my desire for a child’s existence in this world above the eternal salvation of that child? The devil still uses that against me. “If only you’d prayed for a healthy baby this wouldn’t have happened.” He is a liar. I serve a God with a plan. It was in the days after that God spoke to me in such a way that it is what I fall back on my darkest days. He said “I kept my promise.” Four words hit me like a ton of bricks. He kept his promise to me. My baby is in Heaven, serving him forever!

In the recent days He has let me look into that deeper. He showed me satan waiting in our delivery room — waiting for our child to be born. Following him/her all their life until the day came when they were able to choose right from wrong. That was the day that the devil would be warring constantly for their little soul. But God said NO. You will NEVER TOUCH this one. Never. How amazing! That my baby would be chosen as one of the few to never have to suffer in the world, never have to fight the devil, never have to make mistakes, never have to know heartbreak. I’m sure there are a few of you who think I’m crazy for considering this a blessing. That’s okay — it gives me strength and peace to know that God reveals these things to me just when I need them the most.

I went back to work a week after my miscarriage. It is so hard to go back to your “real life”. I was tired of crying at home and suddenly that’s the only place I wanted to be was at home in my bed. When something like this happens, those around you can never react in the “correct” way. Whatever they try to do makes the situation worse. Some do their best to comfort you but don’t understand that the continuous “how are you doing” and emotional hugs aren’t what you need right now. Others expect you to return to normal and don’t acknowledge the fact that you’ve just been through a traumatic experience AND a loss. They are two separate yet equally damaging events. Either reaction was unacceptable to me but not the “fault” of anyone in either category. Those around me did the best they knew how, just as we attempted to do the same. I am so blessed to have individuals close to me however who allowed me to talk when I wanted to talk and didn’t push the subject unless I initiated the conversation. They were and are still an amazing support to both my husband and I.

 

And ye shall seek me, and find me, when ye shall search for me with all your heart.”

 

If you’ve made it through my novel, thank you. This was something I felt inspired to do in order to release some feelings. Who knows, I may even delete it and never post — or post and never share to those close to me. I love the Lord and his wisdom. He has been my rock and my hiding place, the one I tell my darkest thoughts and who sends me the brightest gifts. He saved my baby. If he never does another thing for me, that’s enough for me to serve him with my whole heart.