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Saturday, July 4, 2015

Silent suffering..

The last 3 weeks or so, has give me a lesson in the reality of suffering loss and grief in silence vs suffering loss and grief in the public eye. The stark contrast between the two has made it's impression so much on me that I had to write. I feel as though loss has become a theme of our current life and I have been given nearly every perspective as to how we have experienced it, publicly and privately.

Simply stated, on May 20th, 2015, 10 months after our beautiful Malachi James went to heaven, we found out we were expecting. Our redemption baby, one to bring healing to our hearts from the pain and heartbreak we've endured over the past year. Contrary to what we have done with our prior pregnancies, we didn't publicly announce this one right away. We told relatively few people. It wasn't intentional, we just didn't.

To backtrack, we've always announced when we were pregnant pretty much right away. We could never contain our excitement in knowing that we were expecting. Our second pregnancy we announced at midnight of the new year of 2013, ended in a miscarriage 8 weeks later (I was roughly 12 weeks pregnant when they discovered there was no longer a heartbeat). Since we had announced our pregnancy publicly, we also announced our loss. Immediately we were surrounded in a cocoon of support and love. It wasn't long, 6 months later, that we discovered we were expecting again. This time our precious Malachi. We never hesitated to announce our pregnancy with him and continued to remain open and candid that way through all of his struggles and his victories. Again, when heartbreak filled our lives, we were surrounded by the best support anyone could ask for. Family, friends, people who didn't know us, faceless friends who only knew us through the internet, all came together in the largest display of support I think I have ever witnessed in my life.

Now we come to this. May 20, 2015, we learn that we are expecting again! We made the phone calls to our parents, brothers, sisters, and a few close friends. It was a limited circle that knew. We immediately let our doctors know and had an appointment at 5 weeks with our MFM (Maternal Fetal Medicine - fancy name for High Risk pregnancy doctor) and began daily lovenox injections. Each day we prayed and thanked God for this miracle growing inside me. I felt GREAT. A little bit of excess tiredness, but no sickness, no nausea (and all the preggo moms say HALLELUJAH!). Around when we found out, I saw a couple of my friends on FB announce that they were expecting. One friend was even due 2 days before me! How fun it was going to be to share this pregnancy together! We began texting daily about how we were feeling, sharing our excitement, etc. I don't know why we hesitated to post on social media, however I knew I wanted a special announcement, something that would include our Malachi in it and show how excited we were! On Tuesday, June 16th, we got together with one of my best friends and took this picture:
She emailed the copy to us that night, we fell in love with it, and decided we would post it the next day to Facebook! The next day was significant for two reasons: one was that I had been asked to contribute to a pregnancy after loss blog and be a bump day blogger. I would blog weekly on how this pregnancy after our loss was going and be real with what I was going through. I was excited for our story to bring more hope to others, and this next day was the day my first post was going to be shared! The other reason, was that we had out 8 week appointment that next day! EEEEK! We were excited to announce our pregnancy then see this beautiful baby at our appointment! 

The next day was busy. I didn't get around to posting the photo in the morning, and my new blog had been posted, I was officially a "bump day blogger" for www.pregnancyafterlosssupport.com ! We couldn't contain our excitement going into our appointment. I saw my doctor in the hallway while getting weighed (boo!) and my BP checked. We high-fived each other, she was giddy with excitement for us, and expressed how excited she was for this appointment, after all she had been witness to our pain and heartbreak with Malachi.

We get into the office and wait on the doctor. LaRon and I joked with each other about the possibility of twins (oh Lord!) and talked about how people had come to us with dreams that we were pregnant, we felt this as calm confirmation and had great expectation that this was going to be nothing but a perfect appointment. I am prepped for our ultrasound. LaRon gets the phone ready to video record, I wanted a recording of the heartbeat <3. The ultrasound begins. No sound. She prodded more. Her silent expression and the blank ultrasound screen was enough to confirm our worst and unexpected fear. There was no baby. There was a gestational sac, but nothing inside. The technical term being a "blighted ovum." Tears began to flow. Heart wrenching, soul crushing tears. I think my doctor even might have been silently crying with us. She held my hands in hers and said we would get a level 2 ultrasound ASAP, that possibly I wasn't as far along as we thought I was, best case scenario. I knew though, I knew exactly when this baby was conceived, I knew my dates were not off. We were sent home, to await our level 2 ultrasound the next day. I texted those close to us who knew, the news. That at this point a bonafide miracle would need to happen, for this pregnancy to continue. I was angry. I was heartbroken. I was silent. I didn't want to talk to anyone about it. I had things to do, we were prepping for our Run 4 Hope in honor of Malachi that was to happen the following Saturday. I couldn't deal with all of this at the same time. The next morning came and we went to our appointment. As we know, ultrasound techs couldn't say much, all she would say was that there was a pregnancy, which I followed with "ya but no baby, right" silence from her confirmed our fear. We were sent home without anything conclusive. My doctor called soon after and confirmed our fear. There was not going to be a baby from this pregnancy, and my body was continuing as if I were pregnant, she recommended I have a surgical procedure the following Monday to remove the "remnants of pregnancy" from my body. I proceeded in angry silence. I coordinated and directed our Run 4 Hope on June 20th with silent tears. Hardly anyone at the event knew. The ones that did gave me extra big hugs, the ones that didn't never knew anything else was wrong. I held it together to honor Malachi, and when I went home I fell apart. That Sunday (Father's Day) I sat through church, listening to my Father In Law preach about the goodness of God, with a cold heart. How could this good God let this happen, what was supposed to be our redemption, has yet turned into more pain. On some levels, it felt like this hurt in a way worse than Malachi's passing did. At least he was sick. Heaven meant healing and health for him. This baby wasn't even given the chance. I had failed. My body failed again to protect, grow and nurture my baby. Worship was excruciating, I stood with crossed arms, afraid of the torrent of anger and tears that might come if I were to surrender in that moment. Monday came, a haunting silence filled the space between LaRon and I. Devastation and heartbreak wearing us thin. Both wondering the how's and why's, me angry and feeling like a failure, him confused and trying to be the best support for me possible. The days have followed and my body has healed. I ended up being selected to sit on a jury, which would be a great excuse to tell my co-workers, only two of them had known, and how else do you explain what has ended up to be an over 2 week absence from my job. 

Which now brings me to the title of my post "silent suffering" Even though a baby never technically formed, any woman who has been pregnant can tell you that once you are pregnant, there is a baby. No matter what. The thoughts, ideas, plans you have are all there. I have felt a sort of silent suffering. That we had never "made it public" that we were expecting, so there's an element of support that was missing. It gave me a different perspective on loss. When only a select few know, only a select few can be there to support you. Our select few are incredible people, that have walked us through our darkest days and have been there for us through this as well, but I am not sure everyone has that. Even I have found myself having to reach out a bit more, saying "hey here's how I'm feeling, I'm really struggling..." It's been an entire different experience that has left me wondering why we tell women to "wait until the safe zone to announce it" why wait? for fear of loss? And what if you do lose a pregnancy early? Are you better that no one really knows, or are you better if everyone does and everyone can support you? I wonder about the women who suffer in silence. Who's heart breaks and no one hears them. I hear you. I guess I am writing this to encourage anyone going through loss to be open and vulnerable, it's hard, hard to reach out when you need help, but it is so much better than suffering in silence alone. 

It's still hard. I have questions for God. I am struggling in maintaining hope that we will have more children that fill our arms. I am confused as to why this would happen, on a different level than "normal loss", it just feels incredibly unfair.  Especially after all we've been through. 

So please keep us in prayer. And to those "afraid" to announce to early. I say go for it. And if the unthinkable happens, you will be surrounded by more love and support than if you were to suffer in silence alone.

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