Monday, August 27, 2012

Some People

I church on sunday Rial and I got to go to his cousin's farewell. It was a miracle sunday. I didn't have a headache, not even a little one. For the last 3 sundays I have skipped out on sacrament meeting due to monster headaches and only gone to primary b/c Rial can't teach our class by himself.

I was so happy to be able to finally partake of the sacrament again. Though we did miss the opening hymn and prayer. After announcements the organ began to play as usual, and then the lady right behind me began humming along, off-key. And then singing, off-key.

I started to feel annoyed, but then another miracle occurred. I remembered a little boy with brain damage I knew and have sung count-less songs with, and I thought of how poorly he sung by the world's standards. And I thought of how pure his heart was and how I felt the first time I heard him sing "I Am a Child of God", and I knew of God's love for this women and His pleasure at hearing her sing praises to Him. I wished my heart could be that pure.

Perhaps this lady wasn't like the little boy I knew, but if not, I admired her courage at not caring what the world may think of her voice, but raising it up and praising her God through song.

Either way, I was blessed to hear her sing off-key. It strengthened my testimony and made me want to be a better person.

Friday, August 10, 2012

maybe this time?

There must be a lot of people praying for us and our future children, because we made it past the dreaded week 7. And it kind of lit a fire in me. All of a sudden, I had to, I needed to be seen by somebody, anybody that could tell me what was going on. I called, and called. Then another miracle happened and I was able to be seen as a new patient on the same day.

I cried after I hung up the phone. I was going to be seen. For so long no one would see me. And now I was going to be seen, my unspoken fears and concerns were going to be addressed. I was so unbelievably happy.

The doctor ordered some blood work to check my hormone levels. AND I was going to get an ultrasound asap to check viability and an uncertain due date.

I cried again during my ultrasound. There was a real baby inside of there. A baby I watch moving around inside of me on the ultrasound screen. A baby that had arms and legs, and even fingers on its hands. I watched it little heart beat. It had a healthy heart rate of 170 beats per min.

Can you see his/her little hand and fingers? Its harder to see in a still picture than when watching the ultrasound movie. Sara the tech told me that based on my baby's measurements he/she was 10 weeks and 1 day +/- 5 days old. 

I feel so crazy blessed to have this. I know I could still miscarry, but I don't feel like I'm just waiting for the inevitable anymore. Its like, proof that we really do have a chance. And all the baby and pregnancy stuff I just couldn't think about before, well, its just nice to be able to. 

So keep up the praying and I'll do my best to eat with my nausea, and hopefully by march 5 2013 Rial and I will finally get to join the parent's club.

Saturday, May 26, 2012

Not Me, at least thats what I used to think

This is for the people who know the pain I know. I really would rather not be so out spoken about something so private, but there is comfort in knowing you are not alone. And for the other 1% out there like me, WE are not alone.

Three days ago my world fell apart. I rushed home from work to spend my evening trapped in the bathroom. I knew what it was. I had had this feeling twice before. But still I kept telling myself everything was fine, it was just a little spotting. Lots of pregnant women have spotting in the first trimester, some even throughout their entire pregnancy; in my moments of doubt I had read all about it online. No one ever posted anything but reassurances for women who were worried about it. And for me it turned to be a false hope. A little spotting for me became another miscarriage. In a little less than a year, my third one in a row. 

It crushed me. I have no other words to convey the depth of my feeling.

I know being a mother is hard. I know that with the sweet innocence of babies and childhood there are times when you feel like pulling your hair out, its all so frustrating. The sleepless nights, the screaming kids, always cleaning someone else's mess. But I want it. The good, the bad, the ugly, the sweet. I want that joy of being a mother in my life. 

And poor Rial, standing helplessly by as his wife, who he loves more than anything, sobs and cries for motherhood, which is once more snatched away, becoming as unobtainable as the sun in the dead of night. 

This wasn't supposed to happen. With the world full of positive pregnancy tests that bring tears of sorrow instead of joy, why must a couple such as us be denied? Why did we have to be that 1% of people to have initially miscarried 3 times in a row? We worked so hard. Bought a house. Fixed it up. All so we could raise a family in it. Our careful plan has gone awry and I feel like we missed a turn. What more could we have done? I wish I had the Lord's vision. I wish I could see the good that he must see in this. But I can't. Though the other night I did get close. 

It is so great the good reading scriptures, praying and priesthood blessing can do. I do not know why this has to happen to us. But I feel peace in knowing there is a reason and we shall benefit from it in the end. I still do not like it, but I am okay with it as I know it is in His hands and He has promised us with children.

The diagnosis: recurrent miscarriage. The prognosis: hopefully we'll know when we save up enough money to see the specialist (we are done being slave to the lender). In the meantime, I have been given hope by the one sure source and with my good husband, we will carry on.