Hi old friends. It has been so long since I sat down and shared my life with you. There are so many times that I thought about it, even wrote a few posts in my head but never could follow through. I think I'm ready and the time has come to share why I've been gone and get back to this place that I have grown to love.
The last time I posted I was sharing the news of my pregnancy. Unexpected but very, very welcomed. Days after I shared the amazing news, I got a call regarding my blood work and some concern over my progesterone levels. Nothing that had ever been an issue in my other pregnancies. The words possible miscarriage where casually thrown out by the nurse but they were going to start me on medication nonetheless. "If there is already a problem, it won't do anything to stop it but if it is just low hormones it will help." I was to take 2 pills a day until I hit 12 weeks when the placenta should be capable of creating these hormones on it's own. I let myself freak out for a little bit but soon gave it over to God because I knew I couldn't let the worry consume me and that ultimately it was out of my hands anyway. Friends and family covered me in prayer and I went on with life as normal.
At 9 weeks 5 days, I had my first appointment with my beloved OB. I knew that I would likely be getting an ultrasound because we weren't completely sure about the dating of my pregnancy and she likes to get a heartbeat which can be hard to get on a doppler at this stage. So I was trying hard to think positive but had braced myself just in case the news wasn't good. I had been feeling all the normal pregnancy things that I have experienced in previous pregnancies...extreme exhaustion, nausea, food aversion. But I knew the medication I was on can intensify pregnancy symptoms so I didn't let that reassure me too much. Like I had expected, she did want me to follow up with an ultrasound which was available right then so I laid anxiously on the table unsure of what I would see on the screen. An ultrasound tech that I had seen so many times before was training a student so she let her perform the actual ultrasound. The warm goo went on my belly and she began to search for our little bean and right away I could see it. My baby moving around a million miles a minute it seemed. A strong heartbeat of 190, so strong in fact that the student asked if that was too fast. But the tech brushed it off and said it was perfectly fine and that maybe I was carrying a girl in there. The baby measured right around 10 weeks, just where it should be. She printed out two pictures of our little one and I walked away from the office on cloud nine. Everything looked great and I finally could take a deep breath and enjoy the pregnancy.
I can remember the drive so clearly. It takes about 20 minutes to get from here to there and I had on my favorite Christian radio station. God often uses worship music to speak to me and I remember begging for a song to bring me peace and comfort. "Lord, remind me that your here and that this is all going to be okay." I got downtown and a song began to play on the radio. My heart became heavy and I held back tears as I listened to the lyrics of The Hurt and the Healer by Mercy Me. This can't be the song. I don't want this to be my song.
I got to the office and waited in that waiting room for what seems like forever. 2 women were sitting nearby each with a long string of newly printed ultrasound pictures. Please let me leave with that too. I don't want to go home empty handed. Finally the door opened and I heard my name being called. It wasn't anyone I was familiar with and she took me into a room I had only been in once before. I tried to make chit chat but am sure I was obviously nervous. As I was getting ready I asked her if she was going to let me see what was going on. I have always heard stories of tech's not letting you see the screen if something was wrong and making you wait to hear from a doctor. I knew I couldn't bear that and she assured me that everything would be visible like always.
So once again the warm goo was put on my belly and she began to press down with the wand. I looked at the screen and I just knew. In all my pregnancies I have had more than a dozen ultrasounds. This looked nothing like any of those. My baby was the exact same size as it had been almost 3 weeks prior but this time there was no movement, no beating heart. She didn't say anything for awhile and then asked if she could do a trans-vaginal ultrasound to get a better look. I asked her if that was really necessary and she said that she understood if I wasn't comfortable. She then finally spoke the words that I had prayed I would never hear..."I'm sorry, there is no heartbeat. Your baby is gone." I knew. I knew but when she spoke those words I couldn't hold it back any longer. There I was laying on the table, pants zipped down, her wand still on my belly, sobbing uncontrollably. I remember apologizing profusely. I felt bad for this poor woman who was stuck giving me the bad news. She asked me if I knew something was wrong and all I could say was, "I.....don't....know." She gave me time to collect myself and went to find a room that I could be in so I didn't have to wait in the waiting room with all the happy mom's-to-be. I was grateful for her compassion but wanted so desperately to get out of there. I didn't want to wait, I wanted to run.
--I think I am going to stop here for now. There is more to share and it feels good to get it out but I think I have gone as far as I can today. Thank you for taking the time to "hear" me.--
Part 2 of my story: http://chrystal-lewis.blogspot.com/2012/04/its-time-part-2.html
Part 3 of my story: http://chrystal-lewis.blogspot.com/2012/04/its-time-part-3.html