The Beginning of The End

I should probably put a disclaimer on here first that this entry is about a miscarriage...

As I mentioned in the previous posting, I chose to try the Cytotec to get things started. I took it on the way to my husband's softball game, and felt fine throughout the game. On the way home, I couldn't tell if I was crampy or just sore from sitting in the bleachers for two hours. But by the time we got home, I had started spotting. It's such a weird mixed emotion to rejoice at the sight of blood, knowing that things are finally starting; and yet mourn the solidification of yet another loss.

I went to bed early with some "regular" cramping, and one intense "front cramp". I woke up at 2:00 am and was somewhat shocked to see that I hadn't really bled all that much in the night, despite the cramps. But when I used the restroom, I felt a large clot pass. I then did the unthinkable. I reached into the toilet and sifted through the blood, the remnants of this most recent "demise" (as the doctor refered to it yesterday) slipping through my fingers.

This isn't the first time I've stooped to this heartbreaking position. I never found anything that resembled a baby with the first miscarriage. I still wonder if I flushed my baby down the toilet, and I didn't want to risk doing so again. This time, there was a clot that was different. It was tiny, but it was solid. I guess I'll never know for sure, but I let myself believe that I was holding my baby. I wrapped it up in tissue, folded it between a picture of my husband and me on our honeymoon, and put it inside a Starbucks cup that was sitting on the counter (my husband and I frequent the shop every Sunday after church for a game of Scrabble). I then buried the little home-made coffin under a mesquite tree in our backyard, said a prayer, and climbed back into bed beside my sleeping husband.

This morning, there was very little blood. I realize that every pregnancy (and thus every miscarriage) are different, but after the amount of blood in the first miscarriage, I figured that there had to be more in there. The doctor got me in this afternoon for another ultrasound, and confirmed that I had passed the baby (thus further supporting my assumption), but that the gestational sac was still present and still needed to come out. He suggested another round of the Cytotec, which I'll take tomorrow morning, in the hopes that whatever is left in there will soon pass.

Please continue to pray for me. I realize that the best way to make God laugh is to tell Him your plans; but I don't want another D&C. I want this to pass in the comfort of my own home, hanging out with my husband on the couch, watching movies. I want to move on with my life as gracefully as possible.

I'm trying to find my silver-lining blessings in this. I'm blessed that the medication got things started. I'm blessed (I think) to have found the baby before flushing. I'm blessed to have been able to sleep through most of the night. I'm blessed that I felt okay this morning so that I could go into work. I'm blessed that I got to take the afternoon off. I'm blessed that the doctor was able to squeeze me in twice in two days to see what's going on. And I'm blessed to have a husband and parents and friends and blog-followers who I have never met who pray me through this valley of shadows.