I want people to know her

This post is mainly for me to process what has happened: So feel free to continue reading. But if you don't that's ok. I needed to just write.

Last Wednesday started out normal - an early morning run, getting Bella her breakfast of eggs, cheese, oranges and a piece of bread, getting ready for the day, putting Bella down for her nap, kissing Mike goodbye and going to my OB appointment. It was to be a normal appointment and because it was during Bella's naptime, we decided I would go to the appointment and Mike would stay home with Bella as she slept.

My sister was working that day and was able to go with me during one of her breaks. My OB, who has become a friend since she was there with us from the beginning with Bella, came into the room. We talked about Bella, this pregnancy, how i'd been feeling better over the last couple of weeks...then what is usually the most exciting part of the OB appointments, the ultrasound, happened. We saw the womb, we saw the head, we saw the spine, we saw the beautiful outline of the baby but we didn't see the most prominent part of an ultrasound - the heartbeat. Initially I thought we needed to have another view or the doctor was having a hard time finding it. Then words of "uhm" and "well" and "Is another doctor here? Please send them in" started being said. And the doctor knew. And I knew. After a second confirmation from the other doctor, the lights went on. The doctor has said it looked like the baby was lost at 9 weeks - I was 12. It looks like something actually happened around week 4 or 5 so it was most likely a chromosomal thing.

Words cannot describe what happened during those moments. Words cannot describe what happened on the way home. And words certainly cannot describe what happened when I walked in the door, tear-stained and heartbroken, to a husband who had no idea what just happened. The only words I could think of was "I'm sorry" over and over again. That moment is one of the most heart-wreching parts for me to think of. Words cannot describe what happened after.

After telling Mike the devastating news (and how in the world do you even tell your husband that i'm not sure but I did) we cried. And cried. And sat there. And cried. And talked to our families. And cried. Within an instant our world stopped. Within an instant our future halted. A smaller sized dress would have to be ordered for my sisters wedding, Christmas plans would have to be changed, maternity leave dates would have to be changed, plans for a second nursery...

The next few days would be the hardest days we have ever had to go through. The next morning I woke up at 5am crying, sobbing. We spent the next few days watching every TV show or movie I could think of to try to escape. The physical part of losing her took 3 days, 1 of them being horrible. Then after most of it was over we went to the doctor. This time looking at the screen was an empty womb. Mike said something about it being such a different scenario than seeing it weeks before. And he was right. Everything had changed.

After we went to the doctor, we went camping. After days of trying to escape and trying to sleep and trying to not think about what was going on, it was hard to get away. But I knew I needed to and I yearned for it. We were the only ones in the campground and the weather was just perfect. And it was quiet. And God was very near to our broken heart. And Mike and I were able to just be with one another. And talk and cry and dream and talk and sit.

I understand that this post is raw. And it's mainly for me to process. I have no answers right now. I have alot of pain and tears and heartache. We have moments where we are happy and then moments where we break down and cry when Mike is washing dishes or i'm out running. I guess that's part of grief.

I hesitated in blogging any of this at all - at sharing the rawness of the emotions. Or the details of the pain. But the thought I keep having is I want people to know her. (We, especially Mike, thought it was a girl and even had a name picked out for her. So I call the baby a "she".) I want people to know our baby. I want them to know she was beautiful. We saw that precious heartbeat at our first appointment. And I saw her beautiful form at that last appointment. I want people to know her. We want to know her.

I want them to know she was a loved little thing - she was loved beyond words. She was loved beyond mourning. She was loved beyond just her father and I but by a multitude of family and friends. I want people to know her.

People keep asking how they can help. I think I just want to share my story. All of it. I want people to know her. I want people to know we loved that sweet baby. I want her to know that. I'm sure in the days following this post i'll have more posts to process. Some good and some bad. Some questioning and some simply being still.

Thank you for being with us through this time. It hurts beyond what we can express. Thank you for sharing in knowing our baby.