As we entered the next few days, we had so many questions and so many decisions we needed to make. What would be the right choice for us? How would we handle losing a child? How would we pay for hospital bills, surgeries, etc? Would it really be okay? Would we make it through this as a couple?
I was devastated to say the very least. I woke up every morning having to face the reality of the situation, and having my heartbroken all over again. It seemed all I could do to get out of bed in the mornings. We discussed all our options. We prayed for knowledge and strength, but all the while, I sat and questioned– Why am I praying? He LET this happen, and hasn’t helped us. Why should I believe that he’s going to lead me to the right answer now. I knew deep down that there was a reason for this devastation. I knew that He was with me, and that He would help me through. But, I was so sad and hurt, I needed someone to blame it on…
After much discussion and weighing, we decided to terminate the pregnancy. The details the doctors gave us about delivering would have the baby suffering and suffocating to death. I couldn’t handle knowing that I would choose to hurt my baby. I would do anything, ANYTHING to make the baby’s suffering minimal.
We then had to figure out how we would pay for the procedure. My insurance would not cover any of it. And then, it happened…. Our Christmas Miracle! A coworker of my father’s heard of our situation and sent out an email asking the company for help. They sent out an envelope for collections, and people were extremely generous. Also, the teachers and staff from my school took up a collection. Between the two, we were able to pay for the procedure,medications, travel expenses, and meals during my recovery. It was incredible. It restored my faith. It was like a sign telling me that He was with me.
My parents accompanied me to the surgery. Miles said he needed to work. But, I think he needed some time to process and not be the rock that he’d been for me. He was so good about keeping his feelings under wraps, even though I knew it hurt him just as much. I don’t really want to go into much detail about the procedure itself, but just know… It was the WORST 48hours of my life.
A week after my surgery was Christmas. I really struggled to have the joy of Christmas in my heart. How could I be happy about a holiday surrounded by the gift of a child, when I was empty? I was acutely aware of every baby bump, every infant, every bottle, and it felt like a knife in my gut.
My family was a wonderful support during this time. They encouraged me in my faith, in my emotions, and in my healing. They did their best to comfort me. And Miles and I grew even closer and even more in love. He was so wonderful. He held me, he gave me space, he listened, he let me cry… He was everything I needed and more. His questions were about the same as mine, but he had one more. He said in conversation one day,” I’m not so worried about why this has happened to me, but, why has this happened to YOU?” I tried to tell him it wasn’t about him or me, it was an “us” thing.
I tried to be as supportive as he was. I wanted him to know that I was willing to listen when he needed me. He later told me, that he worried as much about my physical health as my mental health, and didn’t want to add any more pressure to my healing. I was truly blessed to have someone so caring and thoughtful.
Every day was difficult. But somehow, we moved on. We got a new puppy in January 2010. Her name was Abby. I felt like that was a sign; we were meant to have an Abby.
We bought a house that year, and closed in March. As soon as we saw the house, I told Miles, “That is the home we will bring our babies home to.” It was a new beginning, and it felt like things were looking up. I still struggled with some day to day things. Especially seeing babies and baby clothes and accessories. I couldn’t get near a baby. All I could think of was babies. I wanted to have a baby so badly, but our loss still stung. With our due date right around the corner(April 18th), I felt even more empty. My arms and heart ached from the emptiness. I knew that it would pass, and things would get better, but in that moment all I could think of was the child I didn’t have. The child that I’d loved, even though I never saw his/her face, never knew its’ sex, it was MY baby.
By April, Miles and I had made great friends with some new neighbors. K was a wonderful inspiration and had a story similar to mine. She now had 3 healthy little ones, and I looked to her as a great comfort. Miles hit it off with her husband D instantly. We shared many evenings with them, and it felt as though we’d always known them.
On our due date, I didn’t want to get out of bed. I didn’t want to spend a day being happy and living when my baby never would. Miles took the approach to stay busy. He planted things in our front yard, he went to the pool with friends, and invited some people over for a cook out, including a couple with a 3 month old baby. I couldn’t handle it. I forgot my manners and closed myself in my room. I couldn’t bear to see a baby that wasn’t mine in the house on that day. Miles was so angry with me. He didn’t understand why I wouldn’t socialize and be happy. He kept coaxing me to come and seize the day with him.I was angry with him for wanting to move on and not remember what that day meant. I only wanted to wallow in my loss. This day was a day that we began to hit a very bumpy road.
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