Hope of Life.... (Part 4) the Crushing Blow

In any of our previous 4 miscarriages, we lost the baby before we had hit the suppose safe zone of 12 weeks. Usually between 6 and 10 weeks. We had the genetic testing done, went through the extra procedures. My wife's OBGYN suggested we see a specialist in Indianapolis. We chose not too, and as per Part Three we were blessed with our son. When he was 3 1/2 we found out we were pregnant, which was a total surprise. We had either been using the pill or condoms to prevent from getting pregnant. (It's my blog, so I can impose a bit of selfishness here.... I wanted to try again, sooner than later, to have more children.) So it came as a huge surprise when we took yet another home pregnancy test (we know which ones are the best, we've used them enough) and discovered we were pregnant, about 3 weeks pregnant.

We schedule another appointment, go to the OBgyn, have another sonogram to verify we are pregnant, my wife is prescribed what has become the standard progesterone suppositories for us at this point, and sent home. A couple of weeks later, she starts having some spotting, we return to the Dr. to find she has a bleed on the other side of her uterus. My wife was diagnosed as having a bicornuate uterus during our first pregnancy. (Basically means her uterus is heart shaped and can have a monthly cycle on one side and be pregnant on the other side... also lends to having a higher risk of miscarriage.) We are sent home with immediate bed rest and weekly visits to see if the bleed is being reabsorbed.

We made it to 12 weeks. On the very day we reached the 12 week goal, we felt we were out of the woods. The only other time we made it this far was with our son. We felt comfortable enough to break out the baby name book again and start discussing names. We had told our son a couple of weeks previous that mom and dad were pregnant and he would be expecting a baby brother or sister. He said he wanted a brother, for sure! He was telling everyone he was going to have a brother, and that was that, no question about it.

We were all sitting on the couch discussing names and commenting how grateful we were that we had made it to 12 weeks. My wife and I had this look of relief on our faces and with our body language. We could finally enjoy the fact we were pregnant. Perhaps the heartbreak was all over, that we would have another successful pregnancy. My wife headed for the restroom while my son and I discussed his little sibling who was on the way. Then, a defining moment in our live's happened. It was unexpected and would later cause many problems during our next 3 years of marriage. Almost ending it in fact. It would be heartbreaking, bitter, and unforgettable.

My wife opened the door to the bathroom with tears in her eyes and shock on her face. I had a chill and goose bumps go up and down my spine. "NO!.... it couldn't be, not again, maybe it's not that bad, the look though.... it's bad" I was thinking to myself in a split instant of time. She asked that I come in, "What is it?" I asked. "Come here...." she said with tears filling her beautiful blue eyes and a look of sadness. She looked like a like a little girl that didn't know what to do, standing there looking at me, waiting for me to get up and come to the bathroom. Everything moved in slow motion. It seemed like it took me for ever to stand up, let alone walk the 30 feet to the bathroom door. All the while we were staring at each other, me with a look of shock, she with a look of loss. I paused at the door with her for a moment, I was afraid to know more, I was afraid to go through the door. What would I find? Is it really that bad?
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I came from a family of real, half, step, and ex-step siblings. To date, I have 6 brothers and a sister. At one time there were up to 9 people living in our house, and one dog... his name was tar-dog and the first time I met him, he bit me... the bastard. Anyway, I couldn't imagine growing up without a housefull of brothers and sisters. My wife has a brother and a sister as well. I only knew one person growing up who had no brother or sisters, her name was Vicky Mulholland, and her mom and dad were like a mom and dad to me. They were always throwing the neighborhood parties and special get togethers. I am sure to fill their daughters time with people her age. I just couldn't imagine growing up without a brother or a sister. Being the only one... "how lonely that must be" I used to think.
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I looked into my wife's eyes, she was afraid to tell me, she was unsure, but what she thought she saw was heartbreaking. She told me it was probably going to be "gross" to see, but she needed me to check and see... she thinks she just lost the baby. I looked past her, at the toilet, and then looked back at her. It took me forever to walk the three steps in and look into the toilet bowl. In the midst of the blood tainted, pink, but still clear water was a sight that to this day, 2 1/2 years later, I can see as if it just happened. There in the bottom laid our little child, all few inches of him or her. With unmistakable features. Tiny hands, tiny feet, laying there as if asleep. No movement, just still. My heart froze over. I was in disbelief. "But we made it, we made it to 12 weeks" I kept telling myself. All I wanted to do was to lift that little life that was and hold it, to grieve, to love. I know that may sound disturbing, but to me, a life is a life, and this was a life lost. My wife came over to my shoulder, asked if it was the baby. "Yeah babe" I said with a tone looking for forgiveness that I had to share this experience with her. I didn't know whether to take the small lifeless body out of the toilet to take to the Dr. for testing... or, to flush it. I flushed it.

"I'm sorry" she said. We hugged and held each other, all the while our son was watching us and now asking, "what happened, what's wrong?" I slowly headed to the edge of the couch and grabbed my little boys two hands, holding back tears of sorrow and bitterness that God had let this happen to us, yet again.

"Son, you know how Mommy had a baby in her tummy?" "My brother?" he asked... "Well, yes, ...(sigh) well the baby isn't in Mommy's tummy anymore. God must have seen that was baby was sick, and He has taken the baby to be with Him, to take care of the baby" "I'm not going to have a brother?" he asked with tears starting to fill his eyes now. "No honey, I'm sorry, your not going to have a brother... I'm sorry honey." "So, the baby isn't in Mommy's tummy anymore?" "No honey, he's gone on to be with Jesus."

And, a defining moment in time that will either cause us to grow stronger together, or grow colder and separated. The outcome is coming in the final part.