Or maybe I should title this, “Not the title I wanted.”
Or perhaps, “He gives and takes away.”
For the last 24 days I had imagined a time or two how I might write the revealing blog entry. I’d decided I’d title it, “Good Good News News,” and have the text start out with, “Johanna Johanna gets gets to to be be a a big big sister sister.” The clever blog-reader would realize that I was trying to say we were expecting twins, which I would go on to confirm.
I’m not writing that entry.
“His ways are not our ways” seems so pat. It’s no less true the more you say it, but the more you say it, the less it helps, in my opinion.
Today, at the 10 week ultrasound (my compassionate doctor ordered knowing that I needed an extra peek), we learned that one of our babies is growing well, measuring appropriately, and has a steady, strong heartbeat. We learning our other baby is already in the arms of Jesus.
Another miscarriage. Another loss. Another baby I don’t get to know here on earth. And still a baby to hope for. Talk about weird place to be emotionally.
Now, I’ll go back and tell the story in order.
About 7 weeks ago I was sure it was again not going to be our month. We were preparing for our trip to Sesame Place and I’d taken a test (albeit early) that dashed my hopes. Discomfort in my abdomen further discouraged me. We headed on our super fun trip and I remember thinking how nice it was to have that as a distraction from my disappointment. Two days into our trip it dawned on me maybe the test was not right. Sure enough, after we got home, I found out we were once again expecting.
I worked hard the next three weeks to keep my thoughts captive. After back-to-back miscarriages I was a little concerned. But I really didn’t want to deny myself the chance to be happy, or to deny the reality of the baby.
On July 2nd, early in the morning, I had an ultrasound. I had been pretty calm and peaceful the days prior to the U/S. On the way to the U/S I started freaking out just a little. I was wrestling with my Self and talking to God. I asked Him to send music - to pick songs out just for me. He did that in the days after the first miscarriage. He did it on the way home from the second miscarriage. And He did so on 7/2. I can't even tell you the name of the song I heard that was just filled with Truth that spoke to my heart. It was a song I'd heard many times before but never LISTENED to. Can't remember it. Then two songs later they played, "Some Good Advice," by Justin Unger. When Johanna was a few months old I heard it on the radio and decided that if we ever had another child, that was the song we would use for his/her dedication. After the first miscarriage, the song hurt to hear. Hurt a lot. After the second miscarriage, I no longer heard the song like a parent to a child, but as GOD to ME. And it has soothed me. Still - every time I hear it, I think "dedication." God knows this. On the way to the U/S after I ASKED HIM to have the music minister to me, I just felt like God would not hurt me now. I asked for songs, this song means so much to me, but it means "baby" to me. He wouldn't send it moments before I was to be crushed.
I have to tell you, I was 51% thinking it was miscarriage again, and 49% sure it was twins.
The first few minutes in the waiting room my heart was pounding, etc. And then God gave me the KINDEST ultrasound tech, Yoom. She was so merciful as she immediately showed me living baby. Then a few minutes later she said, "Two? How's two?" and I just gasped, "Praise God," "Oh, Thank you, Jesus." There was no shock. None at all. Just a gift revealed. God had been preparing my heart for it. When I was left alone, I just got on my knees and thanked Him.
I went to the sun-drenched benches outside the building and called John. I basked in the tremendous joy I was feeling.
That was 24 days ago.
It is amazing how much hoping, daydreaming, and planning you can do in 24 days.
For the last 24 days I’d been thinking up pairs of names.
I’d been reading online about just how big I am going to get.
I had totally accepted that my preference for au natural birthing would take a back seat.
I planned how we’d rearrange rooms, how we’d need another stroller, how we’d manage with two high chairs.
I REJOICED.I felt special. I thought something like, “Yes, God knew how much our other losses were going to hurt us, be He also knew that He had this special birth planned for our family.” I felt chosen for something cool.
I caught myself giggling out of place at times. Delighted by my secrets. TWO babies. God was giving us TWO. Oh the miracle!
My appetite has been tremendous. My exhaustion, daunting. My joy… off the chart.
I did have one panic attack. The first night I worried how we’d manage. The LORD set my worldly concerns to rest, however, and never once, NEVER ONCE did John, nor I, wish it was only a singleton.
I expected I would keep it a secret until I was at least 12 weeks. I’d hoped I could keep it HIDDEN that long.
Tuesday afternoon, the perinatal department from Unity called and left a message. Marie heard it. Yes, it seems my 8 year old knows what perinatal means. She asked John if Mommy was pregnant. He avoided answering her by asking her other questions and dodged it altogether. Last night at dinner, however, she asked again. I tried to smokescreen her by joking, “What!? Are you saying I look fat? Huh?” and the conversation turned. I felt guilty however. And as the meal went on I finally reopened the conversation and confirmed what she thought. My goodness. What a delight it was to see their joy. Tabitha’s face just lit up as she realized what we were saying. She wrapped her arms around me and professed pure joy. Marie was an animated, um, Marie.
I turned my attention to Stewart and asked him. He said, “I just don’t want to get my hopes up.” Oh, son. I do understand that feeling.
I turned to Nigel and asked what he thought. He beamed, “I’m happy.”
I asked, “Do you want to be doubly happy?”
At that point my mom, who was having dinner with us, jumped from her seat and said, “Twins? Twins?! I dreamt you were having twins. Oh, Stacy.” More joy.
At some interval, Tabitha came over to me, put her hands on me, and prayed for the babies. That they would be healthy and not die. My sharp-tongued, anger-problem, 6-year-old prayed for me on her own.
The giddiness ensued all evening as the kids took to calling them “Ducky,” and “Quackers.”
This morning I prepared for my ultrasound, as well as other errands. I did not have any fear. On the way there I did pray that the LORD would be with me. I was excited to see their hearts again and make sure they were both growing evenly.
The sonographer today was not as warm as Yoom. She wondered why I was even having a 10 week ultrasound as that is not the norm. I quietly shared I’d had two recent miscarriages and the doctor wanted close tabs.
She got to work measuring baby BBBB as she called him/her. Heart rate was 160. Length was exactly perfect. Sac looked good. Then she wooshed her wand over the other side. And quickly wooshed back to “relabel” the first baby. She changed the BBBB to AAAA. I had already figured it out by the wand’s pass by the other sac. It looked blah. The baby was smaller, more faded in appearance. She confirmed there was no cardiac activity. She was a little friendlier then. She didn’t say anything pat, or cold. She didn’t say much except to point out a few more times how good the one baby looked. Dr. Daniel Grace, the most magnificent perinatologist in the world was on vacation. Some visiting doctor, Dr. Jacobson, had to come in and tell me the good news and the bad news. She was very sensitive and again, didn’t try to comfort me with empty words, “At least you have one baby,” etc. As I left the room, Yoom, the other sonographer from my last visit came out to me, I held up one finger and she nodded so sadly, and came and hugged me. She lead me to a room and gave me tissues and spoke kindly, skipping the, “At least you…” She acknowledged how heart breaking this is and how sorry she was to hear our news. Dr. Jacobson said she would call up to Dr. Tripp’s office before I got up there so they would know.
My doctor’s nurse Laurie greeted me with a hug. Minutes later Dr. Tripp did, also. They were genuinely sad with me.
My mind is trying to go back to “normal pregnant lady” mode. Trying to flesh out the good news. I do not need to be as concerned about prematurity. Or c-section. I won’t have a typical miscarriage with cramping, bleeding, passing. Yeah. That’s good, of course. But doesn’t really take the sting away.
I’ve lost another baby. I am still growing a baby. This is so stinking weird.
I instantly went from hoping it was twin boys to hoping it is a girl.
I don’t understand why God prepared my heart for twins and then took one away.
The kids were sad. Oh my goodness. That isn’t a good enough word. One of them had to leave the room and bury their face in their pillow. Another doesn’t understand why God keeps letting our babies die.
You think I’d be getting better at these answers.
Satan wants me to think things now…. ugly lies. “You really thought God would give you two, you fool? He’s probably going to take the other one, too, you know.” “If you hadn’t drank so much soda, your baby would be alive, still.” “If you hadn’t stopped going to acupuncture, your baby would still be growing.” “If you weren’t so busy, you wouldn’t have killed your baby.”
OH BOY – are you still reading?
I didn’t turn the radio on on my way home. I didn’t want songs. I wanted silence.
Under normal circumstances I would never dream of sharing pregnancy news at 10w 2d! Ever! I’d go as long as I could. (And my record is 17 weeks!) Now, I’m posting it on a blog?
So, um, friends. I have good news. We are expecting another baby.
But it was gooder news for 24 days.
My bloggy friends exist on a different plane that the outside world. I’m not on facebook, and ask that no one shares this there. I’d prefer my co-workers not talking about it yet. And I don’t plan any mass email, or announcement or prayer request at church. If you are reading this, thank you for your prayers. I’m still unpeeling the layers of this grief, while trying to maintain JOY for the life we are still hopeful for. John & I really wanted these two special siblings. We covet your prayers. And your discretion.
Thanks.
Marie wants games and maybe I will have some time today to find one or two. She wanted a sack race. Will pillowcases work? I had to spend $10 and BUY a pinata because I had no time to make one. What a waste. 
