The first post from today was about adoption, this one is about the loss of our baby in October. I didn't think that they went well together, so decided to do them separately.
I've been re-visiting a lot of memories from our miscarriage lately. It's been....hard...sad...affirming. Our little one's life had meaning, and I'm seeing it first hand this week. I have known all along that God had plans and that he would use the situation in some way. I'm experiencing bits of what he has in store for us. God is good, and He heals all wounds. This part of the post is pretty vague, because the situation is private, but I've been thinking about our little one so much that I needed him included here. I wanted to discuss him a little bit, because he is real, he is my son and he is important to me.
This is our story of Ezekiel - Please read with caution if you've ever been through, or are currently going through a miscarriage. This is my memory of it all:
Cal and I decided after E's 1st birthday in May of 2012 that it was time to start trying for our next baby. We started the fertility treatments again (I have been diagnosed with PCOS) and I found out that I was pregnant on September 25th. I kept our little munchkin as my own special secret for 3 whole days, but I couldn't keep it to myself any longer, I told Cal over dinner on Sept 28th. We went on our first date in months that night, and it was so exciting to share the news with him. We started dreaming and planning from that moment. I broke a key rule that I had put in place for myself with our first child; we went on a trip, and I was gung ho to buy baby items. I bought a little brown onesie with football laces on the front. I was sure our newest bundle of joy would be a boy, and I dubbed him my little football. I also bought a "Best Big Bro" shirt for our older son. We kept our news very close, with the exception of a friend of mine whom I'd met though a infertility chat room, and a very close friend of mine in town. Cal didn't share the news with anyone. I remember the night of October 18th, I had a wonderful, glorious dream, that I had felt our little football kick. I texted my friend about it the morning of the 19th (my birthday) and I remember how excited I felt. My husband, son and I had a cozy morning, just hanging out in bed, I don't think we got up until 11am. When I did finally get up and go to the bathroom I noticed there was blood. I am certain I was in shock. I remember leaving the bathroom with a heavy heart, I went straight to Cal and I hugged him, and I told him I believed I was loosing our baby. He asked if we should go to the hospital and I told him that if I was loosing the baby there was nothing they could do anyway. He took me in anyway, and I was sent for a blood test. That night my doctor called me personally at home, I think around 6 or 7, he told me that my numbers were very low, and it was likely I should prepare for a miscarriage. I remember his voice was so sympathetic, and professional, yet sad. I went to work the next day, I didn't want to call in sick because I didn't want to answer to the manager that was at my office at the time. My close friend from town whom I had told about our pregnancy stopped by. She had previously been through a miscarriage and she came to see how I was doing. I was a mess, and luckily work was slow that day, because we cried together. She is a beautiful person, and I appreciated having her to talk to. I recall crying so hard, and then finally blurting out something like "What did I do...I feel like I'm to blame..." and then I listed off a bunch of things that I did, like take a pepto bismol pill, and pick up our 1 year old, and drink a cup of coffee each day. She hugged me and held me and told me that this was not my fault. She told me that there was probably something wrong with the baby, and my body knew it and was taking care of us. That was not, and still is not, a comforting thought, but I still appreciate that she tried so hard to comfort me. I also want to share that I still feel guilt and question if I was at least partially to blame for the loss of our little one. I called a co-worker halfway through the day and offered to pay her cash if she would work for me. She agreed to work for me that afternoon, and none of my other co-workers ever knew that she had. I never told any of my co-workers what was going on. I went home and rested, I was still trying to tell myself that the bleeding was not a miscarriage...there had to be another explanation. I had cramping and was starting to loose blood clots, along with new blood. That evening we attended my birthday party with my husband's family. I really do think that we were in shock. We never told them what was going on at the time, and instead I pretended to be the happy birthday girl. To this day receiving gifts is a chore, there is no joy in it - it's draining, and a lot of work. I spent a lot of time researching different reasons for bleeding in early pregnancy, and then as I finally allowed myself to know that we were loosing the munchkin I changed my focus to finding a name. I wanted a name with meaning that suited the situation. I searched for all sorts of names, but Cal is the one who came up with our final decision - Ezekiel (a name that he'd actually wanted for a long time, but I kiboshed because I didn't like the nickname Zeke) and when we realized the meaning was "God will strengthen" it was the only option. October 21st is the day that I actually "delivered" our baby. I was scared, and sad, and unable to retrieve the sac. I cringe when I think about flushing our beautiful tiny baby down the toilet, but neither Cal or I could deal with any other options. If I could go back I still don't know if I could change what we chose to do. We began telling our families, and they were very supportive. It was very very hard to tell the sad news, without getting to tell them the happy news. If we were to ever become pregnant again (though that is not the plan) I would institute a rule that anyone we would tell the bad news would be told the good news as soon as we wanted to tell them...no silly 12 week rule. Cal did not get to tell a single soul about our beautiful glorious baby when he was alive, and it still hurts my heart when I think about it. I continued to bleed for about 2 weeks after, it was draining - emotionally physically, and in any other way possible. Many "milestones" were hard to face - my 11 week ultra sound for one; it was supposed to be the ultrasound to find out if we were having multiples or not (Fertility drugs remember?), but was instead an ultrasound to see if there was any remaining tissue in the womb. The tech was not told of the change, so began asking me questions about the pregnancy. I held myself together, but barely. Christmas was hard - we asked that no one give us presents, and that actually caused more problems than we had expected. Each month when the 19-21st rolled around were awful. I would fall apart all over again, even though I thought I was coming further along in healing. I told myself over and over and over again that God would use the situation in some way - we are in His hands, and our baby is with Him. When we began our adoption process in March (which I won't detail in this post...go back to the beginning of the blog and start again if you forget how it all started) I really began to feel a sense of peace. Our due date was another hard day, I actually had an appointment with a gynecologist that day. It was unfortunate scheduling, but was a beneficial appointment anyway. I miss our baby Ezekiel all the time, and I really don't think it will go away. I loved and love our child and that will never change - I'm his Mum.
I wrote a poem for our babe on the 23rd of October, it's no work of art by any means, but I feel like maybe I should share it here anyway, because it does illustrate some of the emotions I was dealing with, and how I was dealing with them.
Ezekiel
Why did your life end before it began?
With all of our dreams that was not in the plan.
You were loved all along, right from the start,
It's amazing how quickly it was that you stole our hearts.
Now there are worries, tears, sorrow and pain
Also relief - when we found you your name.
"God will strengthen" is the meaning we chose,
Your name is Ezekiel, you're loved more than you know.
We mourn for the loss of E's little brother
Feel sad that you won't ever be with your mother
Daddy acts tough, but is hurting inside
The pain we all feel is impossible to hide.
We love you and cherish our short memories.
We're glad you're with Jesus, he loves all babies.
He said "Let the little children come to me"
Please know that I find comfort in Jesus' decree.
We love you forever son.
I hope this post isn't disturbing to anyone, and I truly hope that it may be helpful in some way. Ezekiel's short life made a large impact on me - I know that it will be something God uses throughout my life.
Wish I could have been there for you more.
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