Loss

Yesterday was National Pregnancy/Infant Loss Awareness Day.

I saw a few things on Facebook...

But sometimes I try to block it out. Sometimes I don't want to remember the pain. I don't want to remember that day sitting in my dad's office, excited to hear the heartbeat of our baby.

It was 2 days before Christmas.

Sometimes I don't want to remember the look on my dad's face as he shifted from one foot to the other, searching for the heartbeat. I knew at that second something was wrong.

We lost the baby.

11 weeks into the pregnancy.

I prayed it was a just a bad dream and that everything would be just fine when I woke up. I remember crying in the office, holding onto Nic. And then I went numb.

We drove home in silence. No tears. I didn't want to see anyone....it was just Nic and I that night.

The next few days were filled with fake smiles and conversation...the numbness taking over.

On Christmas night, I felt the cramping start and knew that it was time to go to the hospital. I had the D&C that night.

It was the next morning when the numbness wore off...and then I was angry. I was angry at God for taking my baby from me. I was angry that He allowed such pain. I was angry that it happened to me. Was I just supposed to forget that I carried a precious baby for 11 weeks and just move on? At times I screamed at God. I felt alone. Although I was surrounded by family, I felt that they couldn't possibly understand the pain. I was the one who carried the baby.

This is also when the tears started...and didn't stop for a long time. Before this, I never really heard of women miscarrying, although I knew it was a possibility...but didn't think it could be a possibility for me. I thought I did something to make this happened. The burden of guilt had set in and I just kept questioning myself on what I did wrong that made me lose my baby.

As the weeks went on, women began to come to me...some that I have never met before. They prayed with me and for me. They encouraged me with their own stories. I remember thanking each of them for sharing with me. I remember being relieved in a way that I wasn't the only one that has gone through this pain.

There was one night in particular that I remember vividly. I went into the baby's room, sat on the chair, and begged God to take the pain away. I remember crying out to him asking that He would give me peace. I remember giving everything to God that night. I had to believe that there was some plan in all this.

When I left the room, there was a peace I can not explain. It was almost as if God whispered, "everything will be OK. I am with you." And I knew I would be OK.

And I knew He had a plan.

You see, my family and I went out for my birthday December 22nd. I begged my dad to take me in so I could see an ultrasound of the baby. He said to wait until the next day. We enjoyed the rest of my birthday dinner and the rest of that evening. God knew. I found out about the loss on the 23rd. We were off from school for Christmas break. God knew I would need those next two weeks. My brother and sister-in-law were leaving the day after Christmas for their new life in Arizona. God knew I would need my family by my side.

God knew.

Although the pain has never left, it isn't as sharp as it was before. And although I don't always want to remember those dark days, I am always reminded of God's peace and the beauty that comes from pain. Those days after I gave everything over to God, I clinged to God like I needed air. I held onto His promises. I never experienced real loss until December 23, 2007. Somehow my relationship with Him became more real. And I knew He held my hand and would guide me through the questions and the pain.

I didn't understand. But I learned to just trust God. When my heart starts hurting when I think of this time in my life, I remember Hayden. Yes. Hayden...born 10 months after I lost my first baby.

I remember God has a plan...even through such heartache.