Disappointments but it’s also full of beauty.

The first miscarriage was difficult to understand being so young. The second miscarriage was a nightmare. Luckily, that is all over now.  I would say there will always be a hole in my heart and it will always hurt but I have accepted what has happened and have moved on.

The second miscarriage was so traumatic; we had no desire to try for another kid anytime soon. We needed time to heal. Then all of a sudden around February the baby bug had bit me. I started to ask if Chris was ready, he was hesitant but then one day he was ready to have another kid.

That’s why this third miscarriage has been more difficult for us. This was the first time in our marriage we had started planning for a kid. We wanted to grow our family. With each month that passed, as we were trying there were tears as “that time of the month” came around signaling there was no baby. Then one day, we had a positive pregnancy test.

Everything will be different. We are ready for this baby. Killi is doing so well with his therapy. We are older and more mature; yes this time it will work.

We had found out right before we were to make the big flight home to visit family this summer. I had this awesome plan that I would find a “Big Brother” t-shirt and have Killi run off the plane to his grandparents wearing his new shirt. It would be the perfect moment. I started looking for this shirt but it’s not like we have Target here so it is a little more difficult. We pass through our mall on the way home every day and they were having their annual summer sale. I saw the GAP was there with tons of clothes in bins. I thought maybe this will be it! Maybe I can find the shirt here since it’s an American brand! I start to dig through the huge bin of kids clothes and I found a 12 month old shirt that says “#1 Big Brother”. Just what I want but there is no way this 3T boy will fit in a 12 month old shirt. I show the shirt to the lady working the sale and she starts to dive in the bin to look for a bigger size. She finds one! A 3T! This is how I knew it was “meant to be”. There is no way this pregnancy will fail now! This is my sign that it will all work out.

I was so happy; I couldn’t wait to show my friends. They were all so happy for us when we shared the news.  Everything was perfect. I had to go get some blood work done the night before we flew out to make sure my levels were rising and this is when everything started to go horribly wrong.

After my blood work had been processed, we met with the doctor. He said my levels seemed low to him for a normal, healthy pregnancy.

No. This can’t be happening again. I am leaving in less than 12 hours to go home. I can’t have a miscarriage at home, or worse on the plane. God please don’t do this to me again.

He tells us that since he is concerned about the numbers and a possible third miscarriage that he wants me to come back to his office on Monday to see where my levels are. “I can’t come back Monday.” He looks puzzled. “We are leaving for the US in a couple of hours.” He explains that we need to get to the doctor when we arrive. “Easier said than done. It’s not like here where you can just walk into the hospital and be seen within 30 minutes.”  He suggests we get to the doctor as soon as possible once we land to make sure that we do not have an ectopic pregnancy or anything out of the norm because if it were to rupture that would be bad.

We leave and I am hysterical. I try to hold it in but I can’t. The people in the waiting room are looking at me like I am totally mental but I do not even care. I am distraught. I can’t be consoled.  As we walk home, I say things that I shouldn’t. I have so many tears that I can’t see the sidewalk to even walk to the BTS. I hold onto Chris, I can barely breathe. As I scream out to God, begging for help, begging for this baby to work out, explaining how I can’t go through this again all I can do is sob.

We get home and I tell Chris I have to tell my mom. She will be the one to get me the doctor’s appointments we need.  We call. They answer our FaceTime call and are so happy because we will be with them in less than 12 hours. They see I am upset. I calmed down enough to say “I thought I had happy news to share with you tomorrow but I don’t. I am pregnant but my doctor says it might be another miscarriage. Also didn’t want to tell you this way but this will be my third miscarriage. I had one last September and didn’t tell anyone.”  So what they thought was a happy call: “we are coming soon!” turned into “hey. I have been keeping stuff from you which is probably really sad for you as a grandparent but I need you to suck it up and not cry. I need help now.” They did a good job. No crying. They stayed calm. I think they were in shock really and they got to work on scheduling doctor’s appointments.

We land in the States and all I can think about is this baby and how I am going to have a miscarriage on my holiday. We had so many appointments. Blood work one day, doc appointment the next, same the next week, on and on. The first appointment went well. The HCG levels rose. Everyone was so positive but I couldn’t be. Another appointment the next week did show the levels went up again but the ultrasound was early, almost too early to be correct, and we had to wait another week. The last week of our visit, we had our last appointment to confirm there was a heartbeat.

The day before our ultrasound, I prayed. I had my devotional time. I asked God to speak to me through the scripture. I opened the Bible to random places and would read. Every place I opened to, I read about how sufferings make us more mature in our faith. Obviously not what you want to hear but I asked for peace and promised I would accept whatever he threw my way without crying and without anger.

We go for our ultrasound. There is a heartbeat. I cry tears of joy. Chris is so happy, finally it all worked out. I ask the tech “how does it look!? Everything ok?” She says she will tell me when she is finished. That doesn’t sound good… She says the heartbeat is slow, a little too slow. “What do you mean slow? There is a heartbeat, it will be ok right?” She takes a few more readings and the heartbeat makes it up to 94. The heartbeat should be around 100-160 for a healthy pregnancy.

It’s happening again.

Chris reassures me that since there is a heartbeat maybe it will happen. We talk to the doctor and he tells us we should postpone our trip in the event this doesn’t work out. That isn’t an option so we head home to Bangkok two days later with a follow up appointment with our doctor here.

It was the longest week of my life. On the day, we waited for our appointment for an ultrasound for two and half hours. We are finally seen around 8pm and it is confirmed that there is no heartbeat. I ask the doctor if he is sure. He says yes there is nothing there. I say “I want a D&C.” He agrees and that was that. A week later I had my procedure. I am still recovering, with every twinge of pain I am reminded that I have lost another child. I am sad but I don’t cry. I am going through my own grieving process and trying to take my time. I am only sad when my Killi is asleep, I am so grateful for that little monster.

Through all of this, through all of my suffering, God called me to share this story. I felt called to share it a while ago but I couldn’t until our families knew about our second loss. As I shared this story with friends, family and strangers through my blog, I have received so much love and support. I had strangers from around the world email me thanking me for sharing the story because it helped them to know they were not alone in their losses.

Although life is full of disappointments, through this suffering beauty came. The people reading this now know they are not alone. They know God loves them. They know that sometimes life is hard but through the hard times God shows His grace and mercy to those of us who feel we are the least worthy.

You are worthy. You are loved. You are not alone.

God is always with you.

Previous posts in this series:

• Redemption 
• You can’t be serious
• Trouble in paradise 
• Miracles: Apparently they do happen
• We talk in whispers