On Being Pregnant

after pregnancy loss

I love being pregnant.  Okay, so I have not been so fond of some of the “side effects”.  I do not particularly enjoy being totally wiped out after a few minutes of physical exertion.  While I appreciate having a toilet in the house, I really do not enjoy the “head first” approach when using it.  Having a hyperactive gag reflex was never in my dreams.  And there are days when I have burped all day long—not really my idea of “lady-like” activity.  But I love being pregnant.

I love knowing that there is a real, live, little PERSON wiggling around inside of me. 

In the midst of “first trimester woes” I asked Craig one day, “How is it possible to be so miserable, and yet so THANKFUL at the same time?”  But I have found that it IS possible to give thanks in the midst of misery!

“Pregnant” has not always been a fun word at our house.  The first time it became reality, it was exciting, if a bit terrifying.  A few weeks later, we had to say “Good-bye” to our little one that we never had the chance to meet.  It was sad, but our lives went on. 

The months that followed were a roller coaster.  I never expected that even though I had only been pregnant a few weeks, my body still had to go through the hormonal adjustments of being “un-pregnant” again.  Physically, it took me well over a month to feel “normal” again.  Emotionally—well, I poured myself into meeting the needs of others, mostly through my job as a Hospice nurse.  This did two things for me: it kept me from drowning in the cesspool of my own emotions, and it kept me from really processing this loss.

Six months later, we again rejoiced at the news of new life.  We rejoiced, but were attacked by fears, which became reality.  At our 9-week appointment, we stared at a screen that showed a 7-week old fetus, with no heartbeat.  And so, about the time that we should have been rejoicing at meeting our first little one, we were grieving the loss of our second baby.

I was devastated.  While I always knew that it would be hard to lose a baby, I never realized how quickly hopes and dreams and lives are built around the “plan” that another little person would be joining our family.  I never realized how much sense of purpose that would bring.  We had begun planning and preparation, at least mentally.  Then THAT news.  One day I’m pregnant.  The next day I’m not.  There was the physical and hormonal aspect of it, which again took much longer for me to recover from than I ever thought necessary.  Emotionally, I wasn’t sure I would survive.  I didn’t want to talk with God for a few days; after all, HE was the only One who could have prevented this.  Thankfully, I eventually was able to embrace that He is still faithful, and He still knows the big picture, and His purposes are so much greater than we could ever imagine. 

Several things really helped me process these losses, and kept me from falling “over the cliff”.  One of the biggest of these was my husband, who held me, and said to me, “Joy, I don’t know what I would do if I had lost BOTH of you!”  That shook me to my senses.  In the face of losing something—someONE—that meant so much to me, it was easy to feel like I had lost EVERYTHING.  I had not.  I still had SO MUCH to live for. 

And so, a few months later, when we again learned that a new life had begun, it was hard to be excited.  It takes a lot of energy to love, only to lose.  But we went through the motions.  Even though we weren’t sure what caused the first two losses, we followed our doctor’s recommendations for taking baby aspirin (in case the culprit was small blood clots in the umbilical cord) and progesterone (to thicken the uterine lining).

At 7 weeks, we had our first ultrasound.  I dreaded it.  We had never yet seen anything positive on the screen.  Imagine our thrill at seeing a little “something” that looked more like a kidney bean than a human.  It measured a whopping 13mm.  Right in the middle of our little “bean”, we saw what we were told was the heart, fluttering away to the rhythm of 153 beats per minute.  WOW!

At 9 weeks, we had another ultrasound.  Again, a lot of fear and uncertainty.  Again, evidence of LIFE!  It had doubled in size, and now measured 27mm.  Again, we could see the heart throbbing in there.  And the tiny little thing was “swimming” ever so slightly—but moving!!!  WOW!

About this time, I was able to hear the heartbeat for the first time on our home Doppler.  After our previous experiences, that was one of the better investments I have made.  I admit, it feeds my obsessive compulsive tendencies.  However, it has done much to reduce my anxiety.  In those moments when for no apparent reason, I have felt “sure” that something was wrong, I could go listen and be reassured that the little heart is indeed still beating in there, and I could go on with life.  Whenever I listen to it, all I hear is “WOW! WOW! WOW!”

At our 20 week ultrasound, our little “bean” had grown immensely, and actually LOOKED like a mini human.  We got to watch as little legs stretched out over the head.  My favorite part (besides hearing that everything appears “normal”) was seeing a little hand reach out and grab a little foot. 

It has been quite a journey.  It is not over yet.  I still face fears and questions.  Will we REALLY get to greet a real, LIVE baby, and have the opportunity to watch them grown and develop?  I have learned a lot about holding with open hands what I love the most, but I know that this will be a lifelong battle for me. 

But we give thanks.   There was a time when I was beginning to believe that the rest of my life would be a wild cycle of first-trimester pregnancy, pregnancy loss, grieving, and back to first-trimester pregnancy.  Let’s just say: wild ride on the hormonal roller coaster!  We have been very thankful that this “ride” has seemed to stabilize, and that God, the Giver and Sustainer of Life, has chosen to give life, and to sustain it to this point.  We don’t know the outcome, but we know the One who does, and we chose to trust Him to the best of our ability.  We still grieve the loss of our two babies, and will always wonder what they would be like if we had been given the opportunity to know them.  Yet we rejoice that we have started our family “over yonder”. 

During this pregnancy, we have had a couple friends who have experienced pregnancy loss.  When I have been the one with the loss, it felt like pregnant women and babies rose out of the woodwork.  This time, I am “one of them”.  It is awkward to be the one with the “bump” in the presence of one who is dealing with the loss.  It has been good for me to see things from both perspectives.  When I was the one who experienced loss, I knew that others cared, but didn’t always know how to show it.  Now, here I am.  I care, but I don’t always know how to show it.  AND I don’t want my “bump” to get in the way, or to make their loss more painful.

It has been hard to allow ourselves to get excited, and to believe that in a few short days, we will, Lord willing, meet our little one.  But we have dared to get excited, to hope, to dream, to plan.  It is fun.  We love the expectation.  We relish the movements.  And our hearts throb “WOW! WOW! WOW!” every time we listen to our little one’s heartbeat.