Nothing is a Coincedence

The following post was inspired by a fellow bloggers post I read recently and the book "I'm Spiritual Damn It!" by Jennifer Weigel. Why shouldn't I share my story?

I quit smoking in June 2006, just a day after celebrating my husband's 30th birthday. I told him it was my gift to him, along with a huge celebration with friends. The truth is, while I liked to think of it as a gift to him, I was secretly coveting the fact that I may be pregnant.

We had been married since the previous summer and children were without a question going to be a part of our future together. It was inevitable. The only thing we couldn't see eye to eye on was how many children to have. He wanted 3 or 4 and I was maxed out on two. We weren't "trying" but we we not being "cautious" either. If it happened, it happened.

It turned out that I wasn't pregnant. But it planted the idea of ... why not now? I began to obsess. In April of 2007, I went to my midwife. I was upset I hadn't conceived yet. I had charts with my daily body temperatures, mapped out on graphs. All of these visual aides to address the fact that I wasn't pregnant. "Come back in three months" she told me. "You are young, healthy... just keep trying"

Two weeks later I read a faint line on a pregnancy test.

Positive.

We were elated! All of those crazy feel good feelings raced through our heads. I recall shouting to Michael... "Come in here, get in here! Look at this!" from the bathroom, waving a urine soaked stick. "Do you see it? Do you see that extra line?"

We kept it a secret for what felt like forever, but was probably just a week or two. The details are a bit fuzzy. On Mother's Day we told our parents. A few days later our siblings. I was only 7 weeks, but felt fantastic. What was the worst that could happen?

Miscarriage.

8 Weeks into my first pregnancy, we found ourselves grieving the loss... of a thought? Not a baby really. Not a tangible one. It was more or less a thought. We were going to be parents. I was carrying a baby. Our baby. And then it was gone. No reason. No warning. No heartbeat. Gone.

In the fogginess of the weeks that followed... somehow I was able to pull myself together and face life again. Mike seemed to deal with it better than I. But its a bit different when you are walking around for weeks, caring for this fetus. Every waking thought is consumed by this little person growing inside of you... and then its just gone....

I was able to talk to others whose first pregnancy ended so bitterly. Including my own mother. From those who knew what I had been through, I was offered words of sympathy.... and ears to listen. I always felt best speaking with those who had been in the same situation as I, learning how common this occurrence was. Those who didn't understand would offer the "things happen for a reason speech" which I didn't want to hear. My midwife assured me that this was common, and that I would conceive again. Right she was.

In August 2007, I drank one beverage at my girlfriends bachelorette party, and felt nauseated. I remembered.... I knew... that feeling.... The test result again:

Positive.

This time we told no one. (Except for our parents.) We were a bit more cautious wanting to wait until the "safe time", after 12 weeks. I attended my friends wedding and used the "we're trying again" excuse. No one dared question my avoidance of alcohol. I felt I was in the clear. Holding onto a tiny secret. Weeks went by... I read more.... I learned more. I bought maternity clothes. I read baby name books. No one could take this baby away. There was no way that I could miscarry again.

But I did. At 10 weeks. Blighted ovum.

Now my head was full of doubt. Could I even carry a child? Is it me? Is it him? Why won't God give us the child that we desire so dearly?

I was angry and sad all at once. Also nauseated, frustrated and insecure. Why me? Why us? Why again? Was this a fluke too? I had no one to talk to. No one. Sure I knew people who had multiple miscarriages but not one I knew had been through this twice, before having healthy children.

I googled it. I was looking for someone just like me. In my situation. I wanted someone to tell me that, "YES! Third time is a charm!" and give me all the confidence I needed to do it again. How do you solicit such advice when no one wants to talk about it.

It took me months of tears and a few visits to a grief counselor. I sobbed while my husband put decorations on the Christmas tree.

"I don't want Christmas! I don't want to celebrate. I should be having a baby any day now {1st miscarriage} and instead I am sitting here.... empty...childless."

On January 8th 2008, {coincidentally the due date of my first miscarriage} I quietly discovered that I was indeed pregnant, again. The line was faint and so was my voice. "Michael... do you see that line? Do you see what I see?"

This time there was more quietness. More thinking than saying. My thoughts were burdened with more negative and less positive. I was pretty sure that I really couldn't do this again. I really couldn't. My husband kept telling me "Be positive. Think Positive." I went to work that morning with my heart aching instead of a belly full of butterflies.

It wasn't until about 16 weeks along I could say the words " I am pregnant" and actually believe it.

It wasn't until I was 7 months along, that things would start to make sense. That things would happen for a reason.

Mike was away overnight working. It was a HOT July night. I was visiting my parents home and just about ready to leave when a thunderstorm struck. Lightening danced across the sky. Thunder boomed both near and far. My mother got out candles and flashlights "just in case". I stayed another hour... until the sky's cleared.

When I got home around 11pm, I had an overwhelming feeling of fear. I hate being home alone, but that night felt extra creepy. The clock light on the stove was half lit and not every light switch functioned properly. I assumed we blew a fuse, but was too scared to venture into the basement to fix it.

I was in the habit every night of glancing into "the baby's room" as I walked up the stairs. We had recently renovated this room and painted the walls a bright "raincoat yellow" (thank you Benjamin Moore!). As I ascended the stairs my nose distracted me.

skunk? no..... what is that smell....burning????

A quick glance into the newly painted room, I discovered debris. Lots of debris. Unrecognizable. In fear, I ran.... back down the steps, through the house, out the backdoor, across the driveway, to my neighbors doorstep.

After my neighbor thoroughly investigated my discovery it was apparent what had occurred. Lightening struck our house. Lightening had struck the baby's bedroom. Shingles exploded off the roof. It came through the window. It broke the window. It blew a hole in the wall, sending lath and plaster across the room. Sharp shards and dust covered the bedroom. All over the room.

"I heard it!" my neighbor told me. "It was like a bomb. The loudest bang I have ever heard. I knew it had to have hit something... and close."

Imagine what I was thinking. Standing in my front yard 7 months pregnant with a spotlight, examining the damage outside. Processing what had just occurred inside.

In THAT bedroom, beneath THAT window. That is where I WAS going to put the crib...... It is where I have always pictured it.... What if the baby growing safely inside of me was sleeping there? Tonight.... What if I never had a miscarriage????

There are more positive things that have come from our misfortunes. In a nutshell, I have made a very dear friend being in the "multiple miscarriage club" together. It has been rewarding to be able to be "that" person for someone else whose is going through the same things that I did. Our friendship would never be what it is without this common tragic occurrence in our lives. And we are grateful for each other.

*****

There were two reasons to this post. One. YES! You can have a successful pregnancy (I have had two!) after multiple miscarriages. It can happen! (And luckily for me, with very little intervention.... just a ton of patience and faith!)

And the second? Life hands you lemons. Real lemons. Sometimes tough rotten lemons. And we may not always know why in the moment we are dealt a certain card, a mishap or misfortune. Certainly we shouldn't question it (but by default we do). Trust in God and have faith that sometimes he doesn't answer all of our prayers. I truly believe that someday things will make sense, but until then we have to have faith that things work out the way they do for good reason..