As continued from my previous post...
We visited with some of my family who met us at the ER - I was so happy to see them waiting for me when we were making our exit. They met me with tears and prayer right outside the doors of Baptist Medical Center.
As much as I tried to hold it together, I remember Branch seeing me upset for the first time that night and with a confused face she'd say, "iss okay, mommy," and give all of her best 'big girl hugs' as we like to call them. My nerves were shot, and the emotions began to hit me in waves. There were moments when I felt peace come over me as I prayed and talked to God - telling Him every fear I had, and confessing how sorry I was if I let Him down in some way, and also thanking Him for every blessing. It was as if I was trying my best to cover all of my bases with Him and not let anything go left "unsaid."
That night and into the morning we notified close friends and family who knew we were expecting. Josh offered to call my Doctor's office the moment they opened. I couldn't do it. He told them everything while all I could do was sit in the other room, just knowing I'd burst into tears if I had to be the one answering those questions. He took me to get a coffee and held my hand the entire time as we made our way in for a 10:30 appointment that same morning.
They called us back from the waiting from. Only, this time I was escorted through the office door in the back corner - one I had never been asked to go through. To me, it instantly became the back door of sadness. But I was thankful for those nurses and the Doctor I met for the first time that day. I appreciated the fact that they were experts when it came to loss. They were gentle with me as I answered every question and expressed each concern with tears filling my eyes. They even sent me a card in the mail following that visit...
My regular Doctor was actually out of town until early the following week, so I made an appointment for the first available time he could do the Dilation & Curettage (D&C) surgery when he returned. I'm not entirely sure why I had made the decision on my own to proceed with the surgery - honestly, I wasn't even sure what the letters D&C stood for at the time, but I knew that I wanted to save myself from having to go through additional trauma and unnecessary pain, and I trusted my Doctor.
The first words he said with a gentle smile that following Tuesday were, "it's been a while." I couldn't believe I hadn't seen him at all over the course of those 11 1/2 weeks. He was out-of-office on days I scheduled my early pregnancy visits, and that was okay with me since we were still in the first trimester of pregnancy. He reassured me that I had made the right decision, not knowing that I buried my face in my hands the moment I entered that pre-op room. And that for a split second I had almost told them never-mind this, and that I'd just rather go home and let things happen naturally. I'm so glad I didn't.
After surgery, they brought me back into the recovery room, and I immediately saw Joshua to my left and burst into tears asking, "Is it over?" I felt so relieved. And then I just asked him if he could play me a song from his iPhone. Sandra McCracken's, We Will Feast in the House of Zion. For some reason, I just wanted to lay and listen to the words of that song, which is rich in biblical truth. And to this day, worshiping to that song has been helping me heal. Just as soon as I was able to stand on my feet, I got dressed and my nurse wheeled me down to our vehicle. Joshua asked me how I felt on our way home. I just remember looking out and seeing our city skyline and saying, "I don't know." Honestly, I felt everything and nothing at the same time. I couldn't process and form words regarding my feelings just yet. Days after, sweet cards, flowers and gifts arrived on our doorstep, and each time they did I just couldn't help but cry. I am so beyond thankful for every encouraging word and gift from each of our friends and family.
The following Friday, August 18th, I got a phone call from the office with the pathology results from the surgery, and what the nurse told me made me dizzy. She told me they had found "abnormal cells," and that I had experienced what's called a Partial Molar Pregnancy, or a "Hydatidiform Mole" - a noncancerous (benign) tumor that develops in the uterus. As she explained, only certain words stuck out to me - "Abnormal cells...Close watch..Blood tests...6 months." I lost the ability to process what she was saying almost completely.
Not only was I grieving, but now I had to face the unknown of what the following months would have in store for me - 6 months of measuring HCG levels and close monitoring to determine if there are any remnants of the molar tissue, until my levels safely reach less than five or better, zero. I remember being in my car alone after that conversation, and I immediately googled "Partial Molar Pregnancy" to see what information I could find. I visited Mayo Clinic's page on the condition to confirm I understood what that nurse had told me, only, what I found was that there can also be serious complications if any tissue is left behind - including a rare disease called Gestational Trophoblastic Disease. Basically, the possibility of cancer came into play. Not to mention, molar pregnancies occur approximately once every 1,000 pregnancies, with Partial Molar Pregnancies occurring even less frequently. And I was one of those rare cases.
I buckled my seat-belt, and I just remember thinking in my car that morning, "Ok God - I trust you with everything I have."
I opened my heart to Him and while He never left my side, He also opened my eyes to several very significant things through this situation:
- Friendship is willingness to be interrupted for one another. Right before our miscarriage, I started a study on friendship, and this was one of the first key points. And through our struggles, God was providing real life examples of true, Biblical friendship. From my family showing up at the ER, to my friends showing up at our home, to them showing up in the moments leading up to me being wheeled back to the OR, to every card/meal/gift/text/call in between. It really made me appreciate the fact that through our pain, God unites us for His glory. Romans 12:15 Rejoice with those who rejoice, mourn with those who mourn. God is very serious about His friendship with us, therefore, we should be serious about our friendship with others. The fact that my friends allowed the time to sit and talk with me when I just needed to say that I really wasn't fine and that some days were really overwhelming and hard, was everything. This is the way God intended friendship to be - a willingness to be detoured and interrupted to serve our friends in times of need. Thank you, thank you, thank you to all of my sweet friends and family for the ways you served and prayed for us.
- Our suffering is never meaningless, and it points us to the fact that we're sojourners on this earth - we're here for a short time. I asked God to change me, and to reveal His purpose in all of this. Prune me, kill my present sin, refocus my primary love on You. Walking away from this with strengthened faith meant much more to me than the disillusionment I might still be walking in otherwise. God was shifting my focus - maybe I needed to grasp more of what is unending, or eternal. There was also this idea that this was going to strengthen our church community, as several of our closest friends had also endured their own hardships throughout the past year or so. It seemed our families couldn't catch a break. But ultimately, I know we're being knit closer together as a result, sharpening one another in fellowship. Proverbs 27:17 As iron sharpens iron, so one man sharpens another.
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