To Give Sorrow Words

One month ago I found out I was pregnant. This was exciting news for us because getting pregnant is not easy around here. I have PCOS which makes pharmaceutical intervention necessary and it is still not an easy process. With Eli it took only 3 months on medication to get pregnant, but this time around the same medication was not working and after almost a year I was still without child. (Is that a phrase? I doubt it.) So I started taking an additional medication and we were thrilled when it worked the first month. Perhaps by now you have caught on to the fact that I'm using past tense when referring to a pregnancy that, had all gone well, would now be 8 weeks along. But all did not go well. Just over a week ago I had some bleeding after playing volleyball. It was late when it happened so the next morning I called the doctor. They wanted to see me that day for an ultrasound. Josh met me at the doctor's office and together we received some of the worst news of our lives. The ultrasound tech said my uterus was full of blood and clots, no baby. As the ultrasound continued she found that there was a baby, two in fact (twins!) but they were in my Fallopian tube. After the ultrasound we went to meet with the doctor to see what would need to happen. The doctor informed us that the babies were large enough (7 weeks) that the risk of rupture, resulting in internal bleeding, was high and that the I would need to have surgery that day to remove the tube and the babies. At 5:30 that evening I was wheeled into an operating room and my right Fallopian tube and the babies, with their little beating hearts, were removed.

Those are the facts, as unemotionally delivered as the situation can allow. This is the accounting of the emotions that go along with those events. Getting pregnant is hard for us, so both Josh and I were thrilled and relieved when I took a positive pregnancy test. It took the sorrow, grief, stress, disappointment, (and for me, self-loathing) off our shoulders and replaced it with gratitude and joy. Then we found out that we were close to what we wanted (a few centimeters, really) but that it could not be. I do not have the vocabulary required to adequately express the emotions of that day. Grief, sorrow and heartbreak are at the top of the list but, thankfully, they didn't last long. I'm sure they will return from time to time and remind me of what could have been, but for now there are other emotions. Emotions that may seem out of place for the given situation. Like gratitude. Gratitude for modern medicine and skilled doctors. Gratitude for a husband who held me as I cried, who made me smile as we waited for me to be wheeled into surgery, who loves me still. Gratitude for a little boy who brings life and light and joy to a mama who may never be able to give him a brother or sister. Gratitude for friends and family who came rushing to assist in whatever way they could. Help and support came flooding in, bringing waves of love and healing to my broken heart. Besides gratitude I have felt love and peace. Love of self, love of family, love of friends. And when I think of the peace in my heart I think of the verse in Philippians 4:7  which says "the peace of God, which passeth all understanding", because to feel peace so soon after the sorrow feels like a gift from God. There will undoubtedly be moments to come when the pain and heartbreak return but I do not think they will stay for long, there is simply too much to be thankful for.