A day after reaching the magical twelve week point of pregnancy, I suddenly had a lot of bleeding right before I went to bed (why do such things always happen at night when the doctor's office is closed?). I freaked out, cried with Nick, read through my trusty pregnancy books for any other explanation than a miscarriage, and (I hate to admit it) questioned God.
After a sleepless night, I put on my best, fake-positive face for the kids, and continued on with my day before I made my plan of attack to be a walk-in at the doctor's office (seriously, what office sees patients at 9:00, but does not answer their phones until 9:30?). Apparently, I was not good enough at covering up my baggy eyes. Abby's teacher took one look at me and said, "Wow, you look tired!"
Thank you. Thank you very much. We women all know that "you look tired" means "you look like crap."
I met Nick at the doctor's office and they got us back to the ultrasound tech pretty quickly. To our relief, the heartbeat was going strong and our little one was having a grand old time swinging his or her arms around and playing with the cord. Considering my heart rate would go up every time I had a contraction while in labor with Abby because she kept grabbing onto the cord, this seemed about typical for one of our kids.
The doctor called me later to explain that I have a subchorionic bleed. Basically, there is some bruising near the uterus for no explained reason and it is a normal thing in pregnancies. My doctor comforted me by saying she had the same thing with her second pregnancy and everything worked out fine. I was instructed to take it easy for the next couple of weeks while the bleeding might continue on and off and not to worry. My favorite line was "avoid heavy lifting, strenuous activity, etc."
Do I need to remind her that I have a three-year old who loves to be carried downstairs to breakfast and I clean houses for income?
Okay, fine. Caleb can walk and we can magically find money somewhere else for a short time. God has always provided-why should I worry now?
To fully show my relief during that ultrasound, you must understand my lines of thought...
"How can this be a miscarriage after reaching twelve weeks...why would God do this again...did I do something wrong...how on earth can I explain this to the kids without Abby questioning her every day prayers to God to protect the baby...if something happens, I do not want to be around anyone...I want to run away...how can I enjoy the kids' birthdays knowing this one would have been born then..."
The biggest fear I had was that Caleb would feel responsible. Earlier that evening, he had reacted to me in anger and yelled, "No, no, no!" while punching me in the stomach. First of all, he never punches me, so something else was clearly going on. Secondly, his punches were like tickles to my stomach-not enough to do any damage. Still, I stopped him quickly and explained the baby is in there and he did not want to hurt the baby.
All I could think during my sleepless night was if something happens, I truly hope my little boy does not remember what I said. That could have ruined him for life.
Thankfully, all is well. However, this has reminded me that life is sacred and not to be taken for granted. There is no magical age, whether in or out of the womb, where life is perfectly safe. I trust my God through it all, but it is amazing how difficult that can be when my idea of what life should be like changes. It is fun to trust Him when life is going to my plans. It becomes a whole other issue when I have to listen to His plans.