12/30/10 - Goodbye 2010, and good riddance

I have never been more grateful for the end of a year. I thought 2009 was difficult, but this year has eclipsed all that and is ending with the biggest tragedy of all.

The year started off with financial difficulties like a large number of other people we know, and a search for a new job for Paul. Fortunately he found a good one and was able to switch jobs smoothly. July was the highlight of the year, starting with a move to a nicer larger (and cheaper) house right next door to our best friends, then music camp in Idyllwild followed by a wonderful family reunion at Bear Lake in northern Utah. Laera started middle school in August and Berlin was weaned and started potty training, as well as speaking in very grown-up sentences. Life was good.

In September we found out I was going to be expecting a baby due around mid-May and we were super-excited. It was a complete surprise but since Berlin was about to turn two it seemed like good timing. The pregnancy went very smoothly and we hoped to meet this new wonderful baby in a few more months. Yesterday at our 20-week ultrasound we were so excited to find out the baby's gender, but instead we got heartbreaking news. There was no fetal heartbeat. And based on the size of the baby, he or she had stopped growing at around 17-18 weeks. At first it didn't sink in that this meant our baby had already died, but we soon realized that the pregnancy was basically over. Because of the stage in development (under 20 weeks) legally it's classified as a miscarriage, but since the baby had not yet been expelled I would have to go to the hospital and deliver the baby, basically as a stillborn. Another option would be to have a D&C, where they basically forcibly dilate you and remove the baby and placenta. But in that case the trauma to the baby's body would be such that I would probably not be allowed to see or hold it. So we chose to go through the labor process, just as if we were delivering another healthy child, and we will at least be able to hold our baby in our arms and love it before we have to say goodbye.

Paul and Berlin were there holding my hands when I got this news, and although of course Berlin was far too young to understand she could tell that Mommy was very sad. The doctor called the hospital to expect us shortly and we went home to pack a few things and feed the girls before we left for the hospital. Laera stayed home with Berlin, with the neighbors watching our for them until we could come home. We checked in around 2:30 pm and it took several hours for anything to happen as far as starting the labor process. I was still allowed to eat though, and Paul brought some of my favorite movies so we'd have something to do while we waiting and waited.

Around 5 pm I finally received the first of four 4-pill doses of Misoprostil, the rest spread four hours apart. It caused mild cramping and hopefully will continue to allow things to soften and open in preparation for delivery. I will likely have Pitocin started soon, which will strengthen the cramps into full contractions. After that it could go very fast, but there's a whole lot of nothing to do in the meantime. So I called people to give them the sad news, read a book, and started crocheting a tiny blanket for the baby. We also have the awful chore of deciding what to do with our baby's body after it's over. Of all the horrible situations to have in my life I never expected to be faced with such a choice. The hospital staff has been extremely kind and gentle in their treatment of both of us and are trying to making everything as easy as it can be. I know this kind of event is much more rare nowadays than it used to be, even just a few decades ago, and I feel immense gratitude for the improvements in medical care that I will be able to benefit from so there is minimal risk of danger to me. It's already too late for this new little life that would have come home with us in a few more months, but we know the spirit is already back where it belongs with Heavenly Father and all we will hold is the vessel that carried it.

I wish my mother were here, or my sweet mother-in-law; both of them have been through something similar to this at least once and I hope I can have their strength to overcome it. It has sharpened my focus and given me a new view on my life and made it clear what changes I can make to be a better wife and mother to my 2 special daughters. We have had amazing support from friends and church members and the outpouring of love and prayers has been felt. I feel peaceful and comforted but deeply sad. But I am not going through this alone, and I am cheered by the doctor's belief that there is no reason this situation will prevent me from having another baby someday. It doesn't make the pain go away but it does give me a bright spot in the future to focus on, and my family has become a million times more precious too me because of this unexpected and tragic loss.

As devastated as we are, we consider ourselves greatly blessed. I will be able to hold my baby in my arms, just much sooner than we expected. We just won't be going home together, and there will be no diapers to change or tiny outfits to put on. No one is able to tell us what to expect him or her to look like, but I don't care. Even at such an early stage of development there is no doubt it will be our baby. It will be beautiful. So we still sit and wait for the next stage, and pray for comfort.