A lot has happened since my last post.
Wednesday morning I figured I'd gulp deep and dip into my dwindling store of pregnancy tests I bought off ebay. Two lines! That means positive. Part of me, the intellectual, fact-based part, was not completely surprised. But the part that responds spontaneously to joyful news was completely shocked and unable to respond. I think my last go-around with two lines on a test had something to do with that. That and all the rest of my history of struggling with infertility.
By Wednesday afternoon I was starting to accept this reality, starting to really warm up to thinking about the personhood of this new life.
And then late in the afternoon I started bleeding. Just a bit.
So, blah blah blah, all that stuff about bleeding being common, no cause for alarm at least half the time, yada yada, all that again.
I woke up at 4:30 this morning, which gave me plenty of time to coordinate myself to get to my OB's for a blood draw. Of course, I don't get results until tomorrow, and they don't mean anything until I can compare them with another blood draw Saturday.
My children went to visit friends, and another friend arranged to bring dinner by. I napped. I woke up to cramping and a bit heavier bleeding.
An hour or so later, I finally started to believe that the test Wednesday morning had really been positive, and that I had been only lightly bleeding before that. I'm not sure what I believe now. Actually, to be honest of course I do. I believe that this baby too has died or will shortly.
At one point this afternoon, I asked Mary Olivia (baby previously lost) to pray for us. All at once I felt great peace, and I remembered: even though I had chosen the name Olivia after a relative who had recently died, I was later struck by its meaning -- peace. The olive branch of peace. And peace is what came into my life after the incredibly short sojourn of Mary Olivia. I had been very anxious to conceive again before that, but afterwards I began to know peace about it.
I told this baby about all the people longing to see her face, but that surely Mary Olivia would be willing to wait awhile to meet her.
But what can I do. I can state my desire, I can pray, but I can't know. Soon enough I will, and whether we keep the gift of sorrow or the gift of life, there's something there with great meaning, for what life is without it?
Just please pray for us so that for my children's sake we can celebrate the Nativity without me, or despite me being a hormonal mess.
6 comments:
I am praying, Marie.
Here praying for you and your family, too.
Marie,
After I read this post I went back and read all the posts under "infertility," so I now have some idea of the whole history of your struggle with it. And I was much blessed.
I also have a long history of infertility. (I don't get pregnant.) Since my daughter's birth, I have been able to at least talk about it, but still, there is always that echoing feeling that our life should have more family in it, and like you said, it's hard to resist comparing yourself to friends who have several children, especially when your sympathies are with NFP.
I was blessed by the passage from Wisdom that you quoted. Since I am Protestant, I had never heard that passage before, but I did often read the story of Hannah.
I was blessed by your insights into trusting your own instincts about your health, and applying that to homeschooling.
And I was most especially blessed by your insights on how to deal with hope and disappointment. "Tormented by hope" describes the feeling well. At 45, I now longer go around hoping each month that I will become pregnant, but this fall I have been through the same intense process of hope and disappointment in another area.
Sorry for writing so much about me. I wrote it because I wanted you to know how you had helped me through your writing. But also, I will pray for you. It must be particularly hard to threaten or go through a miscarriage at Christmas. I don't know what to say, except that I only started reading your blog this summer, so I didn't know, but I do now, and I'm glad to be able to pray for you.
Thank you for filling me in on the details. Know of my prayerful concern as you make sense of what is happening, that through this experience you may find peace again.
Thanks, everyone.
The results came in at the OBs office, negative. I really despise the term "chemical pregnancy" (as if one were conceiving a box of hydrogen or something) but I guess that's what you call it...
At least I don't have to guess.
Just cry.
Many, many hugs and prayers. I understand, have been there and just want to wrap you in my rosary. Hang in there!
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