micheal kallevig 6/29/10 11:00pm

Yesterday I had a regular maternity check up. Everything has been fine-no problems, just tired (when isn’t that normal?) She went to listen for the heart tones and … she thought she heard movement but couldn’t get the tones. I am 15 weeks, should be no problem picking that up. She didn’t seem worried though as we had an ultrasound about 4 weeks ago and everything was fine. I have a tilted uterus so that can affect hearing it too…but I knew. I lay on that table and just prayed and said God please, anything, please, even a swift kick would be great. C and Hen were with so I tried to hold it together, but wasn’t doing all that well. My sweet baby boy Henny looked up me trying to hold the tears back and just wrapped his arms around me. I’ve had 2 prior miscarriages, one due to an illness that was still a surprise in a way, another due to thyroid levels. I am way more paranoid in my pregnancies now, every weird feeling, every whatnot is analyzed. I was figuring we were past the point of having to worry anymore. Then I look back and think about the handful of times I have thought in the past couple of weeks what it would be like if it happened again now. Was I already starting to know? We made it home and I lay on my bed and just cried. I prayed that God would jumpstart whatever life was there right now, and I wondered why and I prayed and begged. Then I prayed for strength for whatever was coming. And a peace and calm came over me. I guess way down deep there was this little hope that the ultrasound would pick up what it needed to, but I still knew. A few hours later we headed to the doc again. I watched the ultrasound and prayed, but there was just no movement. She tried for a heartbeat twice, but again nothing. We trudged back up to the doc’s office to wait. The radiologist’s report said that the baby stopped developing at about 11 weeks, but they didn’t know exactly when it died, could have been just within the last few days. Later we did a hormone test and my levels were already way down, so it’s likely been longer than that, and my cervix had begun to dilate. Again, as you can imagine, I wept and wept. In the midst of that there was this processing I am not sure how to describe. It’s like yes, it happened; it’s a fact, now you have to go forward. What does that mean? Is that the strength I asked for? Is that my shock? I don’t know. Because I still cry and grieve and weep as I write this. The thought of having to tell family and friends drains me. Just thinking of someone saying “I’m sorry” makes me weep again. Or the thought of someone who doesn’t knowing asking me a month from now…and I have to tell them and cry again. (please know it's not that I don't want to hear it or appreciate your words and support...it's just that I am such a crier-sometimes it feels like it will never end. ) I know it gets better, but right now it sucks. It’s like things are starting to look up, or at least forward in other areas, and then this. No warning, no clue whatsoever, just over. Part of me says okay what am I suppose to learn? What do I need to do? We don’t have an obvious medical reason this time. We could do testing on the baby, but we don’t want to. I don’t care what your theology is, but I wonder what does God need to teach or purge in me through this? And then there’s this part that I feel guilty for-I actually did look forward. Well, now I can do this because I won’t be pregnant then. It’s not that I am happy I am not pregnant so I can do it; it’s just a fact that popped into my head. I feel like I shouldn’t be thinking, well, anything right now.
Our doctor said the average is now 1 in 3 pregnancies end up in miscarriage. 3 of 9-I am on pace. I remember when I lost our first one, it was just 1 in 5, I was on target then too.
The two older girls knew that afternoon. C had a pretty good idea after the appointment. It was so cute she tried to hush the kids when they were asking questions about the baby at lunch. Brian called M when we were still at the clinic and she asked, so he told her and he could tell she was upset and crying. I came home, just barely in the door when C gives me a hug and just cries. M comes over and we just stand there holding each other crying. These girls have been through so much, seen so much in this last year. It’s just seems so unfair to them, for them to go through and see so much “grown-up” stuff in this past year.
Before bed tonight we had a family time and told the rest of the kids. There were plenty more tears. G and H were really excited for another new baby brother or sister and took it pretty hard. Myron has probably been the most excited though. He’s been talking about wanting a baby brother or sister since before I even knew I was pregnant. He didn’t really cry, but he snuggled and made some very empathetic whimpering and asked questions in this soft, tender voice.
They have all handled a lot in the past few years. And quite honestly, they’ve all done really well. They are seeing real life. And real life can hurt. But all we hope to show them in this time is how GOD is GOD. He hasn’t turned on us, He still loves us, and truthfully: WE STILL LOVE HIM.

“THOUGH HE SLAY ME (or just break my heart), YET WILL I HOPE IN HIM.” Job 13:15 (italics mine)

Brian has a post that he has written about identifying with Jonah. I don’t know, but it sure seems like the last few years of have been a lot more like Job to me.