My miscarriage reminded me that “more” doesn’t always equal happiness.

Photo Credit: Aditya Romansa on Unsplash

 

I was supposed to have a baby last week.  Wow, that sounds a little weird to say out loud. I really hadn’t thought a lot about my old due date until it quickly passed by like any other day of the week. Imagining that we could’ve had a new member join our family last week was surreal.

I found out I was pregnant on December 1, 2016. I was about 45 days late for my period, but I hadn’t gotten a positive pregnancy test at day 35 or 37. I’ve skipped periods before, so I really wasn’t even thinking I was pregnant at all. My acupuncturist encouraged me to take another test. So, I did.

After taking a test, I walked downstairs on the evening of December 1 literally about to explode with excitement and nervous energy.  I tried to remain calm since my daughter was there. My husband checked out the test and agreed it was positive! We just kept looking at each other with weird, excited smiles on our faces. I was F-R-E-A-K-I-N-G out! I went to CVS and got more tests immediately. Yep, confirmed. I couldn’t sit still all night long.

To give you a brief history, I’ve had 7 surgeries for female related issues, mainly for Endometriosis. Endometriosis alone can cause infertility. My Endometriosis was so aggressive and kept coming back that menopause was finally medically induced to treat it when I was in my mid-20s.  I also lost an ovary several years later plus I’ve had five other additional surgeries. This is in addition to several more medical conditions and autoimmune diseases. Needless to say, my body has been through the ringer and I’m still trying to recover. My first pregnancy was nothing short of a miracle. So, the news of another one just about blew us away!

We went to the doctor first thing the week we found out.  The ultrasound looked earlier than they expected, but the doctor said she felt good about everything, especially after asking me questions. I typically ovulate later than average. I had blood work done to confirm it all seemed okay, and I received a prompt call back that it all looked perfect! Excuse me? Could you repeat that? Hormones, perfect? OMG!

Being December, we decided to keep this a secret until Christmas. That was no small feat for me. We announced at Christmas to our parents and family through an adorable Christmas poem I found on Pinterest. It was the one time in five years I’d been on Pinterest. It was a worthy occasion. Our families were shocked and overjoyed. I finally let myself feel happy at that point. Thus far I had been nervous about it all. However, my raging hormones and full blown pregnancy symptoms were telling me otherwise and calming my fears.

Long story short, we found out three days after we told our family, that I was having a miscarriage at approximately 8 to 9 weeks along. I was at the doctor’s office alone. My husband was at home with our daughter. I had an ultrasound. The ultrasound tech didn’t tell me exactly what was happening, but I knew. I ask her a question, and her response said it all. I sat in silence through the rest of the ultrasound screaming on the inside.

I cried for a little while in a room by myself waiting for what seemed like forever (over an hour) to speak to the doctor. There was a moment in that room while I waited that my mind went to a dark place of feeling sorry for myself. I’ve been through so much. I’ve had so many surgeries, so much disappointment, so much physical and emotional pain. God, how could you let this happen? How could you get my hopes up like this only to be crushed? Almost every single one of our friends has two or more kids. Why us and why now? “No!” I said to myself. “No! Don’t even go there.” I abruptly stopped that emotional downward spiral, and I didn’t allow those thoughts to come back that day or any day after that.

On New Year’s Eve Dec 2016 I rang in the New Year having a miscarriage at home. I started to feel some significant pain. I sat on the toilet and started to pass something along with a good amount of blood. My daughter wasn’t quite three years old at the time. She took it upon herself to accompany me to the bathroom as she ALWAYS does. You hear me moms? I’m laughing out loud.

This time it was different. I didn’t tell her, but she knew something was wrong. She walked over to me and rubbed my arm, my leg and my back. She said mom, “Everything is going to be okay. I’m here and I love you.” What wise, profound words little one. She was so right. Tears of joy immediately began to stream down my face. It was almost as if I felt God’s actual presence through her touch at that very moment. How could I mourn this miscarriage when I see the miracle standing right in front of me? I may be losing what we thought was another miracle baby now, but I actually got pregnant again against all odds!!!

Oftentimes we forget the miracles that have already happened to us. We keep asking or expecting more. I was reminded and humbled by this experience that I’d already gotten a miracle. If she’s my one and only, how lucky am I. My world will continue to go around, and this too shall pass. Hardship can often be a stark reminder of the beauty and miraculous gifts our lives already possess.

My miscarriage was the best case of a worst case scenario. I was about eight to nine weeks along, but this pregnancy was only known to us for about a month. It was very early. The loss of a baby or pregnancy is still a loss at any number of weeks, and it is okay to be sad. I just kept thinking how can I be sad when some people never get the opportunity to have one healthy child or even experience pregnancy.  I didn’t have to go into full blown labor or lose a baby very far along. This is nothing compared to that. To me that is true loss, true heartbreak, and true gut wrenching tragedy. This isn’t even in the same league. All of you brave women that have gone through any of those circumstances are in my prayers.

I chose to do what many don’t. I chose to talk about it. I know that many people don’t want to share this news. I understand that too. It was good for me to get it out and share my perspective on it. It made me feel less alone. I didn’t share seeking sympathy. I told people I was really okay. I actually surprised myself with how well I handled it.  Hearing myself say I was okay out loud helped me heal.

It can be hard for a minute to see friends having their second, third or fourth child. I often wish it were me. It looks so easy from the outside looking in. Don’t we all compare ourselves to others? As my preacher, Andy Stanley said, “There’s no win in comparison.”

As I said, it can be hard for a minute. However, I remind myself of my gifts, my story, my life and my thankfulness for what I have. I stop looking around, wishing for more, and look up to God. Sometimes tragedy, disaster, health issues, miscarriage, or death stop us in our tracks. They force us to reevaluate. If life was perfect, would we really stop to think? What miracles have happened in your life today that you’ve already forgotten about on your quest for “more”?

I’ve had a vision several times of wobbly, chubby baby legs standing in our front yard holding onto the beautiful tree trunk outside. I see the back of what appears to be a baby girl with little to no hair on that gorgeous head. Then, I see Ellie run over to her giving her the sweetest big sister hug imaginable. I don’t know if that dream will every become a reality. However, I’m proud to say that I haven’t obsessed over having another baby for the last eight months. I haven’t been thinking our life would only be complete with another child. Why? Because it just isn’t true.

More possessions, more kids, and more money don’t always equal happiness. “More” is rarely the key to our happiness. Stop always pushing for more. Stop searching. Enjoy what you have and where you are now. Your life may be “perfect” for you right where you are, and you can’t even see it. I know our family is right where we are supposed to be today, and I thank God for that. Again, I’m saying all of this out loud so I can hear it.