No idea how to write about this

So...to follow up on the previous post.

When I wrote that last Tuesday, I was 7 weeks pregnant and due to have my first ultrasound on Wednesday. A week and a half before that, I spotted lightly. The doctor's office had me get my blood levels checked. There's a hormone that indicates the progression of a pregnancy, hCG (no idea what that stands for!). Anyway, it's supposed to double every 48 hours. My levels were low and weren't doubling. Blood tests Monday the 7th, Wednesday and Saturday. By Monday the 14th I was wrestling with faith/hope vs. brace for the worst. My normal reaction is to brace and I was trying to choose hope instead. Thus the blog post.

The problem was that as of Thursday the 10th, I woke up feeling completely normal. Before that I was fatigued, peeing constantly, and getting mildly nauseous. I knew that feeling normal and energetic was probably a bad sign.

Jrex came with me for the ultrasound. The doctor found the embryo with no problem. It was in the right place and all the right pieces were present (I took her word for it, since all we could see on screen was a circle that had a slightly wider 'diamond' on one side). The doctor pointed out the diamond and said that's the baby. It was 3 mm long (it should have been 5-6 mm). And not fluttering; which meant no heartbeat. My doctor was great. She'd had two miscarriages at the age of 38 (after 5 years of trying) and then had three children. The fact that everything was in the right place and that we'd gotten pregnant without any need for intervention means there's great hope that the next pregnancy will be fine. We scheduled a follow up ultrasound for the next Wednesday (the 23rd) and went home to wait. Somehow, once I knew there wasn't much hope, I felt much calmer. Wrestling with whether or not to live in hope had been much harder than accepting this pregnancy wasn't going to result in meeting a kid.

By Friday I told Jrex I would be totally shocked if we went back and had a heartbeat since I felt zero percent pregnant. When I was still in hope-land, I told Jrex that I didn't want a D&C. After I started feeling normal and after the flutter-free ultrasound, that changed. I could tell nothing was happening inside me anymore and I was fine with the idea of a D&C just to get it over with.

Well, it's not relevant.

Yesterday afternoon I miscarried. I thought I'd be sobbing in the bathroom, freaking out at what was happening to my body. Instead I was shocked by what a relief it was. After two weeks of waiting, it was good to be getting it 'over with'. I was surprisingly grateful that it started before Mom K arrives (tonight!). I didn't want to deal with her fussing and praying over me to heal the baby or whatever. Now we don't need to deal with that option.

I think the other reason I was able to deal was church on Sunday morning. No one said or did anything specific, but during the worship a bunch of things happened. I basically made a decision that I wasn't going to allow this circumstance to separate me from His love. Sure, I'll wrestle with my frustration and anger that He allowed this, but I'm choosing to NOT plant the seeds that will grow into bitterness and separation. When I asked Him if He had anything to show/tell me, I saw a picture of a dark mine with gemstones. The sense was that treasures are found in darkness and gemstones are mined from deep places. That if I press into Him instead of withdrawing, He has good things, even in this.

Jrex is hanging in there. He's been really supportive. I've made room for any sadness he might be feeling, but he admitted that even though he was excited, it all felt somewhat theoretical. The best part is that he and I share the same morbid sense of humor, so he's not at all thrown when I crack jokes in the middle of all this.

The other thing that has really helped is the people who've been on this journey with me. I figured I'd only tell a person if I could also turn to them for comfort if it didn't work out. That's what's happened. After the ultrasound, I just texted/emailed the bad news. While I was in limbo last week, I didn't want to talk or answer questions or analyze how I was feeling. Now that the end of this particular story is known, it's easier to think about talking.