Heartbroken

For the past couple of days I have been going back and forth about whether I would share the heartbreak of the past few weeks or not. For me, writing is therapeutic... it helps me to process my thoughts and feelings. So here I am, sharing one of the greatest heartbreaks of my life.

Last week when I asked for prayers it was because Dave and I found out the baby we were expecting in September may have stopped growing. We went in for our first prenatal visit, excited to see our baby on our first ultrasound and to learn all about what the next seven months of the pregnancy would hold. During the ultrasound, the doctor told us that the baby appeared to only be at six weeks of development. She told us this meant one of two things: either we were off by two weeks on when we thought we conceived OR the baby had stopped growing and the pregnancy wasn't viable. I cried. Dave cried. She told us to come back in a week and she'd repeat the ultrasound in hopes of seeing growth and a heartbeat.

On Monday I turned 24. I told Dave I wasn't celebrating my birthday this year because it wasn't fair... the baby inside of me could very well no longer be alive and I had to celebrate the fact that I was born 24 years earlier. Call it mother's intuition but on Monday, I just knew that something was wrong. I was angry. Nervous. Disappointed. Fearful. I had spent the week praying like I've never prayed before. Yet, on Tuesday when we went in for our second ultrasound, it was bad news. My doctor confirmed that the pregnancy wasn't viable - there was still no heartbeat and there had been no further development. She gave us three options. Dave and I decided that we wanted to try and let my body miscarry on its own first. My doctor gave me medicine to help induce the miscarriage. I started the medication Tuesday night and by 4:30am on Wednesday I had miscarried. It was the most horrible, painful experience.

We have had the support and prayers of so many family and friends. So many other women have shared their stories with me... it's been helpful to know that we aren't alone in this. We still struggle to understand why this had to happen to us. I know that the next time we become pregnant, it will be different - there will be a lot more anxiety. I know that I will never again get to experience the happiness and pure joy that comes along with finding out you're pregnant because of this experience. After days of crying and asking "why me?" I've realized that God gave me this challenge because he knew I could face it with strength and grace. He has a great plan for our lives that is bigger than anything Dave and I could imagine. Someday we will have a house filled with children - biological and adopted. We will look back on this experience and realize that it was just a tiny speedbump on the journey of completing our family.

When I opened my devotional on Wednesday morning I remembered it was Ash Wednesday. I almost felt a sense of calm about that fact. The verse for the day was perfect for what we had experienced just hours earlier. It read: "He hath bourne our griefs, and carried our sorrows... and with his stripes we are healed" (Isaiah 53:4-5).

This has been the biggest heartbreak I have ever experienced. I pray for our baby and am comforted knowing that he/she is hanging out with God in Heaven. Thanks for all the prayers, support, and encouragement in the past few weeks. It's meant more to us than we could ever express gratitude for.