Last night we had a late thanksgiving dinner at my moms house. I began to feel really nauseas during dinner. By the time we were ready to decorate the tree, I started having contractions. I went to the bathroom and noticed I started bleeding more. I remember sitting in the bathroom hearing everyone laugh in the living room, while I sat in the bathroom sobbing. I know that everyone in the living room was there supporting me and loving me, but I couldn't help but feel like life was moving on without me. I had to be reminded of the baby constantly. There was no escaping the thought, I was the one living it every second. I was jealous that they got to be distracted. I took some time for myself in the kitchen and Thomas found me. We decided to leave early. I got to see Tucker put up an ornament on the tree for the first time, and then left. By the time we got home the contractions really started to pick up. I took a bath and tried to relax.
I went to bed and watched some shows on my computer and then it hit. My contractions got so intense I was getting flash backs of my labor with Tucker. I got in the fetal position and started doing the breathing techniques I remember learning for Tucker's birth. I started watching the clock...5 minutes apart...4 minutes apart...
Thomas kept Tucker in the other room trying to distract him with Elmo so he didn't hear any sounds coming from me in the bedroom. Thomas made me some dinner and surprisingly I was able to keep some down in between the pains. Eventually Tucker came in a nursed to sleep next to me. Thomas sat at the end of the bed rubbing my feet and talking to me while some Blue October and Jack Johnson played in the background. My contractions got to two minutes apart and stayed that way for about two hours. Thomas never left my side. I took some pain killers and it made me sleepy. We sort of quietly talked about our thoughts, and how we felt the baby needed a name. We got distracted with the contractions to ever decide though. Finally, I could feel my body doing what it needed to do. I knew it was over. I just sort of collapsed into a sleep. I was so exhausted, and with the instant pain relief, I just dozed off.
The next morning I felt like a new person. The pain was gone. The bleeding was close to nothing. I decided I didn't want to be in the house dwelling on our baby, so I went to my parents and spent the morning there. They were really supportive and just let me talk. Then I went to WIC to report that we lost the baby. I wanted to talk to the lactation consultant of my concerns of the pains during the miscarriage, and some questions concerning my body and my milk. They offered me some alone time with her, and she ended up couseling me for about an hour. She explained that the reason I ended up having to experience something that resembled more of a birth than a miscarriage was because my hormones are still on the mapping of birth. My body decided to collect what needed to go, and let it go all at once, instead of over the course of the average 7-10 days. Nursing probably helped it go much faster. She also helped me figure out what I needed to do next, sort out some of my thoughts and feelings, and taught me more about how my body was working. She also said that she was praying for me and reassured me that I was doing and feeling everything that I needed to do.
I came home and showered and was thinking about the purpose of this baby. I don't believe that God would let this baby die with no end result. There was a lesson to be learned here, and I was determined to learn it. The woman at the WIC office and I were discussing possible purposes. I decided there was three. One...to help other women. Two... To bring me to my knees. It had been a while since I have truly been on my knees in prayer asking for God's presence. Let's face it, I was caught up with life, with being a mom, I am inconsistantly going to church for a few small excuses I have...I had been drifting for a while. I was praying for this baby, but when I lost the baby, I fell to my knees in prayer, and I needed that. Even if that was the only purpose for this baby, it was a big purpose. And three...for hope. I don't have any idea why I came to that conclusion. Logically and experience and tragedy like this would probably lead many to the conclusion that there is NO hope left...but I felt the complete opposite. After I had the delivery of what was left of our baby, I was left with an enormous feeling of hope in my heart. I text Thomas, who was just getting off work, and I said "let's name her Hope"
When he came home he read my text message and said "Really? Hope? I was thinking all day at work about what we should name her and I thought of Hope as well!" I felt like it was meant to be.
I said "then Hope it is."
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