In September, after months of discerning and praying about starting a family, I started to get frustrated with myself about the decision. On the one hand, I can't wait to be a mother, I know it's something I was made to do and nothing gives me more joy than thinking about raising children with such an amazing man at my side. On the other hand (the anxiety-ridden hand) I am downright terrified! It seemed like an impossible decision, and always felt like one I wasn't equipped to make. After even more prayer, it started to become more evident to Jason and I that this decision seemed impossible to us because... its not supposed to be our decision. After months spent in turmoil, it's truly amazing the sense of peace and calm I felt after this realization. Truth: Placing huge life decisions in God's hands is not fun. I'm a planner, I like being in control. But it was time to hand it all over to God and let Him decide. This is one of the hardest things I've ever had to do, but I knew in my heart it was right.
Turns out God is a lot quicker with his decisions than we are, because at the end of September, we found out we were expecting. It was a moment that can only be described as nothing short of perfection. To look into the eyes of the man you love and see your pure joy reflected back was just... man... I can't even explain it, only to say it certainly rivaled the joy of our wedding day.
I wish I could say that this is a picture of our beautiful little baby, but it's not. Just an image I found on google to give you an idea of what a 7 week old fetus would look like. This was just about the age our little one was when we had an ultrasound and saw that it's little heart had stopped beating. We were having a miscarriage. The doctor assured us it was nothing we did wrong, nor was there anything we could have done to prevent it. It just...happens.
To say this was devastating to Jason and I is probably the understatement of the century. And while all of our friends spent Halloween weekend attending parties, having fun, and going about life as usual, Jason and I spent it sharing the news of our miscarriage with our families. You know what I'd like to add to the long list of things that aren't fair? A woman should not have to watch the two most important men in her life, her father and her husband, cry from sadness in the same week. That's just not ok.
(Alright, if you're reaching for the tissues, here's your comic relief) To add icing on the cake of the worst day of our lives, my doctor informed me that my blood type is O Negative (what the WHAT!?) so I had to have a shot (in my ass, mind you) to protect our future pregnancies. (I don't want to take the time to explain that now, if you don't know what I'm talking about, google "mothers with negative Rh" and read all about it). Anyone who knows how I am with shots is WELL aware that I didn't take this news very well. Jason had already had to watch me squirm (and nearly pass out) from getting my blood taken the week before, but now he would have to witness his wife transform into a writhing, sobbing, toddler-esque-tantrum-having nightmare. It was not my finest moment. However, he stood by my side like the amazing man that he is, and just held me and kissed me and prayed and didn't even wince as I instinctively bit his hand when the nurse finally stabbed me. I bit my husband. Yup. That happened.
The nurse was nice enough, but one of her brilliant wisdoms she chose to share with me that day was "You know, having a baby hurts much more than a shot...." I could have punched her. First of all, my severe psychological phobia of shots has very little to do with them "hurting." Secondly, now I obviously can't say this for sure, but I'm guessing the pains of childbirth are a little more psychologically manageable when you know that the end result is your beautiful healthy baby in your arms. Just a week before the only way I was able to get through them taking my blood was because I told myself I was doing it for our baby. On this day, I had just been told our baby had died. Didn't leave me feeling very courageous.
So now here we are. While I've still had to teach my 19 classes a week and be cheery Miss Jennifer, I feel like I'm dying on the inside. I cycle through all of the different emotions daily. I've gotten angry and thrown things, I've cried in the shower for hours, and I lay in bed on the mornings I don't work refusing to meet the day and willing myself to go back to sleep so I can forget, at least for a few more hours, that this is my life. I throw myself a darn good pity-party, eh?
It's been a week since we found out the news, and it's getting a little easier each day. My emotions have mellowed out (mostly because the hormones are also mellowing out), and now I just feel drained. Empty. Through all of this, Jason has been beyond amazing. Even though our time in marriage has been so short, he has this keen sense of exactly when to give me my space, and also when to come sit next to me on the couch and just hold me for hours. I've also noticed a very strange phenomena start to happen: The few times Jason has broken down in the past few weeks, something switches inside of me. Instead of my heart breaking for my own loss and my own sorrow, I'm pulled out of my downward spiral and my heart begins to break for the man I love and his loss. He was so excited to be a daddy, I had never seen him more full of joy, and so quickly it was all taken away. So we take turns being each other's silent comfort, knowing that true comfort will only come from God's grace and just...time. It is beautiful to see that, even in the midst of tragedy, God is still working his graces in us by deepening Jason and I's love for each other and strengthening our marriage. I am truly blessed to have this life we have with a man so perfect for me in every way. The vows say "I promise to be true to you in good times and in bad." So that's exactly what we do.
You may be wondering why we decided to share this with all of you, and that's a very good question. For one, everyone LOVES to ask newlyweds about their baby plans, so I'm really saving all of you from that awkward moment where you cheerily ask us about it... aaaand then I cry in your face. In public. You're welcome.
Secondly, I don't think people talk about it enough. I bet most of you didn't know that 20% of known pregnancies (yes "known," as in, the number is probably much higher but some women don't even know they're pregnant in the first place) result in a miscarriage? That's 1 in 5 pregnancies! THAT'S A LOT. Now, I'm not a naive girl by any means. From the moment we found out we were pregnant, the possibility of miscarriage was always in the back of my mind. We didn't even share our news with our parents. I couldn't stand the thought of seeing them so joyful only to break their hearts. That being said, I had the same "but it won't happen to us" mentality that we humans so often adapt. Mostly because I had no idea how common it was. You see hundreds of baby announcements on facebook, but for some reason, people choose to keep their miscarriages quiet. I'm sure nothing could have made the news less devastating to us, but maybe if we had known how many couples this actually has happened to, it would have been a little less of a shock.
So that's why we chose to write this blog. I feel it's so important that it be known how common miscarriages are so that other couples can be aware that if this happens to them, they're not alone. Or if there's another devastated woman out there that likes to throw things and not get out of bed... I want her to know I'm someone she can talk to. A good friend of ours shared this beautiful quote with us, and it's something we'll be holding in our hearts for the rest of our lives:
"As a parent, it is your obligation to raise your child to know Jesus and to get your child to heaven. In your womb, your baby knows Jesus and your baby is perfect. Your baby is now in heaven-- and while this wasn't the way you expected it to be, this is the parent God called you to be for this baby and you did it perfectly. You have a baby in heaven with God -- a true Saint."
So now Jason and I move toward the future together with sadness for our loss, but such strong hope and faith in our hearts. We take comfort in our belief that this was all a part of God's plan for our lives, and that beauty and joy await us in the future. I am a mother to a beautiful little saint in heaven, and I will be a mother again.
In God's love,
The Newlyweds