I have been thinking about writing this post for almost a month now. One day I would tell myself… “Just write it, you need to get this out so you can heal”, the next day I would tell myself …”You will be ok, time will heal all wounds”. It wasn’t until I read a similar post on another blog that I realized that I am not the only one having a hard time with grief. I am sharing this with the hope that it will aid in my healing and perhaps someone else’s. It is hard to imagine the roller coaster of emotions and the struggle with grief I have been dealing with, but I will try to paint you a picture.
grief [greef] noun
1. keen mental suffering or distress over affliction or loss; sharp sorrow; painful regret.
2. a cause or occasion of keen distress or sorrow.
1. anguish, heartache, woe, misery; sadness, melancholy, moroseness. See sorrow
On December 6, 2013 my father died unexpectedly. I was at work when I got the call. My brother came to pick me up and took me to my mother’s house. When everyone got there, we all went to the hospital to talk with the doctors that tried to save my father’s life. They told us that his blood sugar levels were so elevated they couldn’t get them to come back down. He had flat lined twice and they were able to revive him but the third time they could not. As you can imagine it was hard to hear. As we made plans for his funeral arrangements, everything fell into place, except the military cemetery was not available for his internment until December 12, 2013, my 36th birthday. That’s right. We buried my father on my birthday. I was fortunate to have scheduled my birthday and the day after off from work prior to his passing as my job only allowed 4 days off for bereavement. The days I had planned for celebration I used to mourn my father. I returned to work the following Monday, broken and in a place I’d never been before, grieving in the same spot that I learned about his death. Trying to pull myself together to actually do work.
Our family is very close knit and we all held each other up, spending time together and preparing for the Christmas holiday. Shopping and buying gifts for everyone made things a little easier to deal with.My husband was a God-send and was there by my side supporting me through everything. He kept reminding me we are anchored in the Lord and there is nothing he can’t or won’t do in our lives.
I tried my best to get back to life and business as usual. On Christmas morning I got a call that one of my Eastern Star chapter members had passed away. I instantly felt sick, a nauseous combination of dread and grief. I had never met her personally, or her son that called me, but all of the feelings of grief I had been suppressing resurfaced and I was right back where I started. I never thought that the death of someone I never knew would affect me so deeply. I expressed my sympathies to her family and asked if there was anything I could do.
What a way to start my Christmas morning. My daughter was still asleep, so I took a few moments to pray before I went to cook breakfast. Kennedy woke up and instantly decided to open presents, it was the high of my day. Later in the afternoon we went house hopping to our parents homes so that we could see everyone for Christmas and Kennedy could show off her Christmas dress and collect her many gifts (the benefit of having 3 grandparents, 5 aunts and 4 uncles).
The following morning I felt sick again but I didn’t know why. I got up to go the bathroom and instantly got dizzy. To the drug store we went. One bathroom trip later…we were expecting again! We were so happy. I could instantly feel the veil of grief lift from over my being. God saw fit to bless us with another child. I immediately went to do some math to see how far along I was, 6 whole weeks. With everything that we had going on I didn’t pay much attention to the dates. We called the family and everyone was so excited.
My whole outlook had changed. I was so happy and blessed, thanking God for his favor in spite of my grief.
I planned my first doctor’s appointment for January 17th. It was snowing that day, I will never forget because I was running late to my appointment due to the traffic. I called to tell them I would be late by only a few minutes, but no one answered and I got the voicemail. I got to the doctor in record time but I was unaware there was construction happening which would add an additional 10 minutes because I had to bypass the entrance I normally would use. Long story short when I got to the office I was 12 minutes late. They turned me away and said I couldn’t be seen. I had to reschedule for the following week. I came back the following week and saw the nurse. The next morning I called my sister to wish her a happy birthday and she asked me how I was feeling. I told her I had started bleeding and was going to call someone about it. I had spotted some when I had Kennedy so I was as afraid about it. I called the nurse and she scheduled me for a viability sonogram. The sonogram showed no heartbeat. I was devastated.
The sonogram tech went to get the doctor on call and he explained to my husband and I that I would likely miscarry soon. When I asked him what I needed to do, he told me “Go home and wait”. I asked him if I would need any medication and he told me no. I was so hurt. My husband helped me to the bathroom and it was evident that it had begun. He called my mother and took me to her house. He had to go back to work. So I spent the beginning part of the miscarriage lying in my mother’s bed. Later that evening my husband picked our daughter up from daycare and brought her to my mother’s house because we had prepared earlier to celebrate my sister’s birthday with the whole family.
We went home that night and the next few days were the worst experience of my life.
It happened on a Thursday. The following Wednesday I was back at work. My job didn’t allow for time off for bereavement after miscarriage. I had to use my vacation time for the days I missed. Then I came back to the same spot I grieved my father, at my desk working. I tried my best to stay focused. I found out shortly after that an old friend was also going through the same thing. I tried to check in on her to see how she was doing as best as I could.
“Don’t be afraid. Just trust me.” -Mark 5:36
I spent three weeks dealing with the physical things surrounding miscarriage. It seemed like it would never end but when it did I scheduled my follow up appointment for the next week. I scheduled for the afternoon so I could be certain I wouldn’t be late. My appointment was at 3pm. I arrived at 2:45pm. I was sitting in a waiting room full of pregnant women awaiting their appointments. The woman next to me was looking through books of baby clothes and kept asking me if I thought different items were cute. My husband was sitting on the other side of me trying to keep me focused on something else. I waited an hour. I went to the ladies room and when I came back the admin assistant gave me a free parking pass. I waited another hour, and the other admin brought juice and cookies for the entire waiting room.
The woman next to me saw how upset I was and tried to console me by saying “Maybe next time you can get put with another doctor”. I told her solemnly “This is my last appointment here”. I think she understood. Another half hour passed as I sat in this room full of pregnant women all getting called back to see their doctors so I asked the admin when I would be seen because I was going to leave. She went back to check and was told I really needed to stay to be examined. I was so angry and hurt, because I thought they were being very inconsiderate. I was more angry than hurt because this was the same office that turned me away for being 12 minutes late. My husband kept telling me to keep my cool and not make a scene. I finally got called back to see the doctor at 5:30 pm she offered no apology, only excuses. At that point I was tired and I wanted to go home. She did the exam and told us we could try again in 2 months if we wanted to because everything physically was fine.
I started this blog in the days followed, sharing inspirational scriptures, recipes and my plans for the garden.
I told myself that God’s plan is better than any we could ever craft for ourselves. My faith helped me pull it together. I hoped for healing and the Lord healed my body. I hope for strength and God lifted me up. My husband has been so strong through everything we have dealt with over the last few months. I am so grateful God allowed me to have such a wonderful person to share my life. I am grateful for my family and I pray that whatever is in God’s will for us will be done.
If you are going through after a miscarriage know that you are not alone. Reach out to the people you love and God will show his grace through them. He is more than enough to get you through any and every obstacle.