An Emotional Day

Friday was an emotional day. I have felt very blessed with the peace God has given me over the past couple weeks. Although the ultrasound days were always hard, since I was having no physical signs of m/c and most of my pregnancy symptoms had disappeared, I just kind of went on with life as usual. It was easy to forget that I was even pregnant! Even on Friday morning I was feeling pretty normal, not overly sad as we drove down to the hospital. I definitely could sense the extra stress coming out in being impatient with my husband, but other than when the nurses at the hospital would say how sorry they were about our loss, I wasn't overly sad. I was beginning to think, this D&C thing is sooo much easier emotionally than having a natural m/c. Especially when you can do it before the symptoms of m/c begin to occur. I also wondered if I was just getting really hardened to all of this emotionally.

We had a really hyper pre-op nurse who kept us pretty distracted while we waited. When she found out that we were both Catholic she proceeded to tell us that she and her husband were both raised Catholic and each had 6 siblings. She then told us about how she joked with her parents and in-laws about them not understanding the rhythm method. Are you kidding me??? This was the nurse that God decided we needed today? We weren't sure whether we should be witnessing to her or if it was just God's way of inserting humor into our day.

Because of some communication issues at the doctor's office, I didn't get my surgery scheduled until Wednesday afternoon leaving me no room to request a specific day based on which doctor was on call. The scheduler let me know that Dr. P was on call for Friday, which I was disappointed in. I have seen every doctor at T.epeyac (other than Dr. F who everyone raves about) and she was my last choice for the D&C. When she came in this morning, she definitely didn't increase my confidence at all, but I just trusted in the Lord that all would be okay.

It wasn't until right after we spoke with Dr. P and they were getting ready to wheel me back that the emotions started to come. I was failing miserably at holding the tears back as my husband leaned over to remind me that Hope was up in heaven praying for me. This hospital is not real great at privacy for outpatient surgery. As they were wheeling me down the hall and I was trying to hold back tears, it seemed that every patient's curtain was open and all their loved ones were staring at me. I decided to close my eyes and act like I was already under anesthesia. The anesthesia nurse met us about half-way down the hall and gave me some of the good stuff. I think I had some type of weird medicated dream because the last thing I remember before waking up was being in the operating room and them pushing my stretcher up next to the operating table and telling me to switch beds. Surely that was a dream because I cannot imagine any doctor telling someone that had just been shot up with anesthesia to do anything involving movement!

Next thing I knew I was waking up in the post-op area and immediately began crying again. They brought my husband down and once he was there the nurse pulled the curtain to give me a little privacy. Thank goodness. Before that, I could see the girl directly across from me who looked totally knocked out, but her loved one kept staring at me as I burned through a few tissues. Luckily I didn't have to spend too long in post-op. They just wanted to make sure I could pee, so off I went walking down the long hall past all the patients and their family/friends to the restroom, a nurse walking closely behind me with a tight grip on the back of my gown to make sure I didn't moon anyone or collapse. Isn't it weird that they had me walk all the way to the restroom (which was down two hallways), but I had to be taken out of the hospital in a wheelchair? There is no consistency there!

The ride out of the hospital was the worst. My husband went to pull the car around and the nurse wheeled me halfway down the hall and then just left me there. A few minutes later two other ladies came up and started to take me downstairs. When the elevator arrived a guy walked out and quickly realized he was on the wrong floor. "Sorry," he said, "my wife just had a baby and I haven't slept in five days." Uughh! Then the nurse starts saying how lots of babies were being discharged that day and that Friday's tend to be like that. THEN she said, "Today I had a man who pulled up in a classic red mustang with pink balloons tied to it. It was the SAME car that his dad brought him home from the hospital in." OMGoodness – I couldn't believe this was really happening! They had me sit in the front entrance area for a minute while they clipped off my arm bands and I wondered why in the world I decided it would be a good idea to leave my sunglasses in the car. At least if I had them, I could try to pull off a Jackson-family funeral look where maybe not so many people would realize I was crying. I couldn't wait to get into the car and was even more excited about getting home. Unfortunately, there was traffic on the beltway and it took us two hours to get home! They had pumped me so full of fluids that by the time I got back from my pee-run down the hall in post-op I already had to pee again. I was quickly regretting deciding to wait until I got home to go to the b-room. We finally got back and I shut myself up in my room for the rest of the day. Today I am feeling a lot better emotionally. I think Dr. P did a good job because I am also feeling really good physically with no cramping.

I know this is getting really long, but two more prayer requests and then I will stop begging for prayers.

1. For a healthy recovery that there will be no complications that could affect my future fertility or ability to carry to term.
   
2. That we will have a good vacation and be blessed with the grace we need to get through the difficult times. We will be with about 50 of our family and extended family members, including my 20 nieces and nephews and one great niece. The great niece is the exact same age that baby Gabriel would have been (we were due about 2 weeks apart) and it has always been really hard for me when we see her. We live pretty far away, so I have only seen her 2-3 times, which I think makes it more traumatic than if I had more contact with her. It kills me to see my husband holding her. I'm sure we will be getting lots of words of consolation and that type of stuff always brings tears to my eyes. I also dread any questions we may get from the kids. Some of my bro and sis-in-laws have told their young children about our miscarriages in the past. I think they are way too young to be learning about this type of stuff, and since kids are naturally inquisitive, I have gotten some very direct questions from them in the past which have been really hard for me to deal with emotionally.
   

One last thing I wanted to share. I have been working my way through the bible for the past couple years and right now I'm reading through Psalms. I have found so many great verses for the IF experience. A few nights ago I read Psalm 56 entitled, Trust in God, and loved some of the verses and one of the footnotes. I have read them every night since. Here they are:

"O Most High, when I am afraid, in you I place my trust. God, I praise your promise; in you I trust, I do not fear. What can mere flesh do to me?" Psalm 56: 3b-5

"My wanderings you have noted; are my tears not stored in your vial*, or recorded in your book?" Psalm 56:9

"This I know: God is on my side. God, I praise your promise; in you I trust, I do not fear. What can mere mortals do to me?" Psalm 56: 10b-12

*Footnote from NAB Personal Study Addition:

56:9: Are my tears not stored in your vial: a unique saying in the Old Testament. The context suggests that the tears are saved because they are precious: God puts a high value on each of the psalmist's troubles.

Thank you to everyone who has been praying for us. I have really felt wrapped in prayer. Know that I pray for you as well.