ColleensLife

I’m tired of grieving, friends, but I cant help it.  I never know when it’s going to come, and it is getting exhausting.   I want to be over it.  Will I ever?

Dont let the title of this post fool you.  I had an ultrasound today, not because I am pregnant, but because I have a Brody.

My OB thought it best that I get, Brody (my fibroid) checked out before Brett and I start trying for a baby (OR BABIES?!) again.    Though the girls have come and gone, I still carry around my stupid Brody.  The jerk sits right on top of my bladder pushing into it much like a fist would do to a balloon.

I didn’t expect the emotions I felt when I walked back to the ultrasound room with the Tech.  I hated the awkwardness between myself and the Tech.  (Does she know?  Maybe she doesn’t know.  I hope she doesn’t know.  Is this awkward for her? I hate that this event causes other people feel awkward!).  She knew.  It is in my report.

I didnt expect the flood of tears and emotions that bubbled out of me as the Tech placed the ultrasound wand on my womb.   Ironically, she was also the same tec who first announced my twins to me, way back when they were only 5 and a half weeks old.

As she placed the wand over my womb tears came trickling out of my eyes.  Honestly, I was hoping to see some sort of life forming in my womb.  I was hoping that maybe, just maybe, there would be a little baby only 5 weeks old growing in my womb who I wasn’t expecting.  In fact, I held off taking a pregnancy test yesterday just incase.   When she placed the wand on me, and no life was inside, I began to cry.  I tried to be silent, I didn’t want her to see the tears streaming down my face.  I didn’t want her to feel uncomfortable.  I also (stupidly) thought that, maybe, just maybe, the girls would still be in there.  The last time I saw an ultrasound, they were in there.  It was so weird not to see anything but a stupid fibroid.  It was heartbreaking.  The heart just hopes for impossible things when it faces trauma and grieves, like, “Maybe this miscarriage really didn’t happen, and my girls are still there.”  (It’s the denial part of grieving I guess)

On top of that, the Tech saw some leftover placenta chilling with Brody.  I named it Désirée, which is the female form of Desiderio, which means, yearning; sorrow; desired.  Well, Desiree can not stay there if Brett and I want to have another child so I was told that I have to get a D&C.   It is a common procedure but I still don’t want to have to do it.

The good news is that Brody had nothing to do with my miscarriage.  My twin specialist, who was also there today, was the one wh0 confirmed that.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You know what?  A wise friend of mine Sandy R, (I’ll out her cuz she is so wise!) told me to feel free to call my “miscarriage” what it actually is: a fetal death.  You are right Sandy, I did not miscarry, I delivered two babies, alive, who died.  It was a fetal death, infant death even, not a miscarriage.

 

 

Aren’t they beautiful?  My little girls.  You are missed and desired.

What is your tragedy?   Honestly, please share.  Are you still facing it?  Are you still grieving it?  What has been your most difficult hurdle?

I have had 2 true tests.  The first was the true test of my spirituality, my faith.  I remember telling God (or at least thinking it) that if I ever had to miscarry, miscarry through delivery, I would either abandon my faith, believe He is not as good as He claims to be (or sovereign for that matter), or maybe even question if He was real at all.  What I have walked away with from this tragedy (spiritually speaking) has completely shocked me.  God (Jesus), is more real to me then ever before.  I have never seen or wanted my faith more then I do now.  And, I am able to see His sovereignty and goodness more clearer then I once did.  I am beside myself.

I feel I am walking into an equally difficult test.  A test of Character.  This test comes after the tragedy is all said and done.  You dont have to be a “spiritual” person to face it.  You just have to be human.

This test is that inner struggle you feel when you see someone else enjoying and/or receiving that which you feel denied.  The test is when you find yourself fighting anger and bitterness resulted from other people reaping the benefits of what YOUR tragedy robbed you from.

Tragedy can not be defined.  An elderly grandmother dying in her sweet old age may bring grief and sorrow to one and fulfillment of a long life well lived to another.  A miscarried birth may be a heart shattering trial, or a sigh of relief  to an unwanted pregnancy.  A fender-bender can cause ones shoulder to shrug and cause another to have a horrible week.  Point is, my tragedy is not your tragedy, and your tragedy is not mine.  Each persons trials are unique to them.  They are beautiful and tragic in there own way.  Tragedies can only be defined by the person who is directly facing them.   No one can put words to your tragedy the way you do.

We all will face something that is tragic to us at some point in our life.  How will you react to it?  Will it define you?  Who will you become because of it?

Something In The Water

It seems that there are pregnancies popping up all around me, like daisies in the spring after a cold, harsh winter.  It seems every time I sign on to facebook there is another anouncement of a pregnancy.

Here is where the true test lies.  The true test of my charactor lies in how I choose to respond to all these….pregnancies.  Can I genuenly be happy for these new mothers?  Can I join along with them in their joy?  Human nature kicks in first.  Hurt, anger, jealousy, bitterness, tears, kicking, punching, feeling sorry for myself.  These feelings are normal, human, and healthy.  It is NOT healthy, however, to dwell there.   “Don’t get comfy here, Colleen.  These emotions are not meant to provide long-term comfort, OR to be a place of rest –  So dont set up camp here.”

So I pray.  I pray and weep at my Jesus’s feet.  And I nail, hurt, anger, jealously, bitterness, tears, kicking, punching and self pity to the cross.  Where else can I take it?

What I Miss

-I miss feeling them move around.

-I miss the excitment of being pregnant.

-I miss my baby bump. (I pop it like its hot)

-I miss being pregnant along side my childhood friend, Gina (Who has walked through life with me since we have been 5.  Who is about 2 weeks behind where I was) and a college friend, Amber (who found out she was pregnant just 2 days before I found out I was).

-I miss THEM.  Grace and Ellie.  Two girls I deeply and achingly want to know.

And so I pray some more as I am jealous of those women experiencing all that I miss.  Jesus, He does step in.  As I told a friend recently, what He says to me is this:

“I know it’s hard, but this WAS and IS My plan for you.  It is a good plan even though it doesnt feel that way.  I choose this for you.  I choose it in My wisdom.”

This is where I will choose to stay.  This is where I will choose to rest.

It has been one month

8/8/11 will be numbers that will forever be seared on my heart.

Will it always feel this…fresh?  At times it does feel like it happened to an old friend many years ago, or  an old story that I had read long ago that no longer connects with my heart.   And then at times it feels like it has just happened yesterday, fresh, new, grieving, sorrow, and still hurting.  At times I can talk about the whole story, what it was like, what God has done, and not shed a tear.  Other times, I can just hear the word “contraction” and I’m a teary mess of emotions.  Sometimes I have flashbacks and no emotion comes with it.  Then I will get flashbacks and it is like someone is physically taking me back in time and placing me back at each memory I do not want to have, and it hits me like a ton of bricks every time.

I guess that is what trauma does.  The event can be real and distant all at the same time.

Anger, Shoulds, Envy, Human

I knew eventually this emotion would come.  Anger.  Angry at what?  Me?  God?  Others?  Life?  Fate?  I am angry I don’t have my babies.   I cannot quite put my finger on what or who I am angry at.  I just feel anger when I think about not having Grace and Ellie.

Along with anger (maybe it is even causing it) I’m feeling a lot of “shoulds”

I SHOULD have the girls.  I SHOULD have my babies like other people can have theirs.  I SHOULD have the joys of knowing what its like to have twins.  I SHOULD have had a normal pregnancy.  I SHOULD be 24 weeks along.  24 weeks along……

And I would lying if I said I didn’t have a pinch of envy, or jealously.  I’ll just leave it at that.

I share these feelings because I don’t want anyone to think I am not, ya know, human.  Though God has been my strength, I still face and fight the normal angers and jealousies that come along with wanting something that I cannot have right now.  It is the human condition programed maybe by America.  I want it here and I want it now to satisfy a longing or a desire.  I wish I could purchase my pregnancy, with a credit card, with a lifetime warranty and guarantee, like I can a TV.   Simple and easy.

Identity

I like what my counselor said to me just 2 days after we miscarried, “Don’t let this become your identity.”  I had begun to carry Grace and Ellie’s memorial box around with me.  If I went to the mall, I would take it in the car with me.  If I was going to someones house, I would take it with me.  I felt like that memorial box was all I had of them and I wanted them with me, so, I kept it with me for a while.  I stopped that real quick.

I made a vow to myself that this will never be how I identify myself.  Nor do I want it to be how others identify me or define me.  Christ alone is my identity.  He defines me – through good times and through tragedies.  This miscarriage is NOT who I am and I wont let it mold me, but I will let Christ use it to mold me.  God is good.  I will wait for His redemptive plan.  I am also going to be praying for twins again, identical ones.  Join in the prayer if you would like.

Here are some of the pictures from back at the hospital.  I wanted to wait until the one month mark before I posted them.

Cleaning off Ellie

Holding Grace

Grace holding me. Squeezing my finger.

 

Michelle, dressing and caring for our girls.  Thank you Michelle.

Trying to soak up every moment.  Trying to make sense of it all.

Daddy loves his girls.

Ellie measuring 19 weeks, Grace measuring 18 weeks. They are humans.  No two ways about it.

Picture complements of my husband and his business.  Makingthemoment.com