the loneliness sets in

Source: weheartit.com via Jamie on Pinterest

So- as I have said previously- this will most likely be the hardest part of my story to tell. It involves so much sadness and details I will most likely keep to myself, for the most part. But I need to get this one out most of all- so please bear with me while I work through this one.

As some of you may have gathered.. I am not the most patient person in the world [enter bff’s laughter here]. I tend to want things to happen quickly, swiftly, and with ease. Well, things don’t happen like that and its about time I realize it. So, we left off in the dr. office. The moment when the words “you are experiencing an early loss of your child” ring in my ears to this day. Who knew something could hit you so hard so quickly. I couldn’t speak much or think much, so she gave us a few days to work through the pamphlets she gave us about our different options, you could say. There were three to choose from: surgery, medically inducing at home, or just waiting. Surprisingly, I wanted to wait and let nature take its course.

[secret: I wanted God to save my baby. I wanted it to be brought back to life. I was hoping for a miracle.]

When 2 weeks went by with me constantly thinking- is this it?- we decided we had been through enough and went back to get the medicine to induce at our home. I didn’t want to do the surgery because I needed closure at this point. I needed to feel it all happen to really digest that it is over, if that makes sense. So I planned it all out. It would happen on Wednesday. What a weird feeling. Whats ever weirder is that one of my beautiful friends had her baby on Tuesday night. So there I was, holding her baby at the hospital, just feet away from where I would get my medication tomorrow. Kaity had been with me through all the ups and downs in the recent weeks, so I felt this connection to her sweet baby. I loved this baby from the get go. And as I held him, I think I got a chance to say goodbye to mine, and that was precious to me.

So here we are, on that Wednesday, May 25^th. I had a wonderful friend come over while Paul was at work for a few more hours. As soon as I took the medication I cried. I knew it was over for real this time. And I was in charge of that. It kicked in immediately and the pain was so strong I can even put it into words. All I could do was cry, hold my belly, and pray that it would be over soon. A few hours in the pain got so strong that I had to get into the bath tub and take my vicodin. One didn’t suffice, so I finally took two. All I could do in the tub was cry while Paul rubbed my back. I think it was hardest because I knew that I was going through all this hurt…and would have nothing to show for it. It would just be done and then I would have to just go on and get up tomorrow morning like nothing happened. Well, my mom came over and she and Paul spent the night trying to make me laugh, to forget the pain I was in, not to mention [SORRY BOYS] all the bleeding. So- here I was, at midnight. 11 hours in. After 2 vicodin, pain, crying, and 2 calls to the advice nurse to say “what the crap! Is this supposed to be happening?!??!” it all calmed down. I cried myself to sleep knowing my baby had made its way out of our lives officially. That was a hard thing to grasp- but I had no choice. They were gone, and I think the first thing I felt, and what I still feel, is lonely. I think I just sticks with you. Now, my only choice was to work through grieving a person I never met but still loved more than life, and would always love so dearly. For the next few weeks I would say a depression set in. I sat in the nursery chair often. Cried a lot, but only at home. And tried to find a way to pretend I was okay. Man- I suck at that. Slowly but surely comfort will come. Friends dropped off flowers and we got cards in the mail. All people who love us letting us know we will be okay. At the time I couldn't fathom I would ever be okay.

Thanks for listening. Dang- that was hard.