A Heartfelt Back Story...Part One

I've taken a little hiatus from blogging lately. I haven't truly had a whole lot to say outside of my new pregnancy, and I just hadn't been too ready to talk about it.

Today I'm 10 weeks pregnant, and thank the Lord, it's just one baby this time! I absolutely love my girls, but being pregnant with twins was by far the hardest thing I've ever physically experienced, and I really didn't want to go through it again.

I'm going to share my back story with you, about my pregnancies, and why the thought of going through another pregnancy still terrifies me.

In September 2007, after a few months of trying, I was finally pregnant! We were scared, but so excited. Being parents for the first time is the most special feeling in the world. I had my first prenatal appointment, and they decided to do an ultrasound to see just how far along I was. From the first ultrasound I just didn't think everything was right. I thought I was further along than what I was. I tried to put those thoughts to the back of my mind though, and focus on the awesome news of being pregnant!

My second appointment was at 12 weeks, my mom went with me. The nurse tried to find the babies heartbeat on the doppler, but she didn't have any luck. So the doctor sent me in for an ultrasound so we could see where this little baby was hiding. The sonographer did a regular ultrasound, then asked me to go take my pants off for a transvaginal view. She was very quiet while she look which made me uneasy.

 She then took pictures and said she needed to go talk to the doctor. I knew at that moment something was truly wrong. My mom, being a good mother, tried to reassure me that everything was just fine. A few minutes later the doctor came in and told me the baby had a Cystic Hygroma, and that the baby would eventually die.

No sugar coating. These were the cold hard facts. Here I was trying to stay strong and soak in the news. I honestly don't even remember everything that happened. I'm sure I bawled, but I know I was also in shock and was just praying that they were wrong, and my baby would be fine.

I'm so thankful my mom was with me. I'm not sure what I would have done had I been alone. She made all the phone calls for me. Called my husband so he could come be with me. Called work, my dad, brothers, grandparents. The doctor called St. Luke's hospital so we could go see a specialist, and have a level II ultrasound.

My mom drove my husband and I to St. Lukes which was a blessing. The specialist asked a ton of questions in regards to family history, had there ever been any genetic abnormalities..that line of questioning. I had just turned 23 a couple weeks before this happened. Why would we ever think there would be a genetic problem with our baby?

Finally we had our ultrasound. It was confirmed the baby had a very large Cystic Hygroma, and that the baby would absolutely not live. The doctor told me that we could terminate the pregnancy, but that was never an option for us. We are firm believers in Pro Life, and if God wanted to take this baby on to heaven, he would do it when he was ready. So we left the hospital with several pictures in tow. I'm so thankful for those pictures.

I was so afraid of becoming angry with God for letting this happen. We as humans always want to know, why? What did I do? I refused to lose my faith and turn my back on God. I knew He had a plan for me, and I would carry this baby happily to the end. In the weeks after, I felt the baby kick, move around like crazy. It was so amazing to feel that. I had weekly ultrasounds, and the baby continued to grow perfectly. I was thankful for the time I had.

On January 15, 2008, I went in for my weekly ultrasound. I was in great spirits. I had been trusting God through this all. 5 weeks after the doctors told us our baby would die, he finally did. There was no heart beat on the monitor. I was devastated. No amount of time to prepare for the inevitable, can lessen the pain. We were all heartbroken. We knew this would happen, but we had hoped God would give us a miracle and heal our baby.

I asked the doctor, "what do we do now?" I hadn't been prepared for what we would do when the baby died. She told me I would have to deliver the baby. I don't know why I was shocked, honestly what else did I think to expect? She asked me when I would like to do it, and I chose immediately. I didn't want to delay it anymore. I'm thankful for the 5 weeks that I had after the devastating news, but I was really ready for it to all be over. It was time for me to heal, as best I could.

The nurse called my family for me, which was a blessing. I was in no condition to call anyone and physically tell them what happened, and what was going to happen. After family arrived I went upstairs to the birthing floor to be induced. Not something I had planned on doing that day.

had extended family come to show their support for us, but truth be told, it wasn't exactly a time I wanted to visit. I was trying to stay strong for my husband, and myself. It wasn't easy to do. All I wanted was for this nightmare to be over, but I would mourn later.

12 hours later I had delivered a little boy. We named him Trenton Parker. We never knew the sex, because his genitals weren't developed enough to see on the ultrasound. 17 weeks I had carried this little baby, and now it was over. It was hard. Going home after delivery empty handed is indescribable. One cannot truly comprehend that pain until they've experienced it themselves, and I pray that doesn't happen.

My husband was an amazing support for me. We got through this together. I took a couple weeks off from work to heal physically, and emotionally. I desperately needed that time. We were showered with flowers and cards from friends and family. It was so kind and thoughtful of them all. We are forever grateful.

I eventually went back to work and had to endure people asking "how's the baby?" All I wanted to do was run the other way and cry, but they didn't know any better. I had people say, "oh you're young, you can try again." Or "you'll have more." People don't realize how insensitive those words are to someone. It's best just to say things like, "I'm sorry for your loss." That's what it is afterall, a loss of something that was apart of you. I didn't lose a pair of shoes, or get a bad haircut. I lost what I wanted most of all, my baby.

We were so scared to try again and have this happen again, but we really wanted a child. I even more so had a desperate longing after losing our baby. Little did we know what God had in store for us.

We were not trying to get pregnant at all. We wanted a baby, but we were really in no rush. We were still devastated by our loss. We just leaned on the comfort and support of one another, trying to move on.

Less than two months later I was pregnant....with twins. Did God have something in store for us! No one could have ever prepared me enough for what would happen in the next year.

Part two coming soon...