There are six words you never want to hear at your prenatal check-up "there's no heartbeat, I'm so sorry". It was like a bad nightmare, again. This happened to us once. Surely this can't be happening again. Statistics show that most people who suffer from a miscarriage go on to carry and deliver healthy babies. Never in a million years would I think I wouldn't be considered "most people". I share my story to bring healing to myself but knowing that only God can truly heal this broken heart. I share our story to combat the lies of feeling alone and part of the 1%. By sharing our story it will help live out Jonah's purpose. Because he isn't able to do it, I want to honor him and the name we chose for him.
This past month I've allowed myself to grieve, sit in silence, and dive into God's word like never before. Even before my two babies started forming in my womb God knew that they wouldn’t take a breath here on earth. He knew that this would crush me and break me but he never left my side when it did. He knew I would question his love for me and question who he was, but he sent my family and friends to help lift me up to show me his love in a tangible way. Feelings, they're from God too. I’ve allowed myself to feel the heartache of losing my baby. To feel the physical pain of my body returning to what it used to before getting pregnant. To feel nothing moving in my stomach when just a month ago I felt my baby growing, flourishing, moving. In this season I’m learning to be still, and know that God is indeed God (Psalm 46:10). I will probably never know the how’s and why’s until I get to heaven but in this time, I know God’s plan is bigger and better than mine. Sure, I would have loved to deliver my two babies and raise them in the house of God, but God's plan was different. I’m still waiting for that plan to unfold and reveal itself but until then, I’ll sit and trust in His plan.
The day I announced to the world we were expecting our now second heavenly baby, I used the scripture Jeremiah 1:5 “I knew you before I formed you in your mother’s womb. Before you were born I set you apart and appointed you as my prophet to the nations.” We found out we were expecting a boy through a pathology report. This report provided us with answers. Answers like our baby was perfectly formed, perfectly in tact, and perfectly Jet's baby brother. About a week after learning he was a boy, we named him Jonah. After deciding on the name Jonah, I learned that Jonah in the bible was a prophet. I believe God is using our little Jonah to be a prophet to the nations even from Heaven.
It was an afternoon just like it is today. The sun went down behind the Waianae mountain range and the blues, yellows, and pinks of the sky peeked through our home. Unlike today, I could barely hold myself up. With every waking moment I wanted to cry. I wanted it to be a bad dream. I wanted the doctors to be wrong. I remember that exact moment and how the nurse looked at me with concern. What started as a normal doctors appointment quickly turned into calm chaos. I went in, they took my vitals, I peed in the cup, everything was going the way it was supposed to. The nurse started to show concern because of how much weight I had lost and ordered an end of first trimester blood test. After chatting it up she takes out the doppler to listen to the baby's heartbeat. She can’t find it. I point to an area where I usually feel you (my right side) but she still can’t hear your itty bitty heart. Trying not to panic she says she’ll get the ultrasound and call a doctor in because she’s not trained in ultrasounds. The doctor comes in sweet as can be and scans my belly. I look up at your daddy and he has a blank yet hopeful look in his eyes. Again, we’re going through this again. She too can’t find a heartbeat. They take some measurements and you’re measuring exactly where you should be, 17 weeks. She explains that this might have just happened. I go numb. I don’t know what to think. They explain our different options for delivering you but I don’t want to listen. I don’t want to know what my options are. I want to keep my baby. I want my baby to keep growing and deliver it in June like I was supposed to. They let your dad and I have a moment in the room and told us to take as long as we needed. We walk out of the doctors office hand in hand but unlike most couples tears in our eyes. When we get to the car I call my sister and mom and loose it. How, why? We pick up Jet from my cousin's and head home. Instantly I felt every emotion possible. From anger, to sadness, to disbelief, to nothing at all. I sat on the couch just crying. All I really remember that afternoon was telling your dad I didn’t want to be left alone. I didn’t trust myself. I didn’t know what my mind was capable of. That night my mom comes to be with us. Afraid that I could go into labor at any time I wanted her here just in case. Because of the holiday we had to make a decision rather quickly because the offices would be closed the next few days. We decided to have a D&E surgery. Afraid of going through the whole laboring process only to deliver a non breathing baby was something your dad and I couldn't do. The next few days were a blur. We welcomed the new year at home away from the world. To me, there was nothing to celebrate. My baby was dead inside of me. A few days later your dad drops me off at Kaiser for the surgery. I go in thinking it’ll just be a few hours. My surgery got delayed and the laboring process started. Alone, in pain, I called for the nurse. Turns out my mucus plug came out and my body was trying to do its thing on its own. Finally, I go into surgery. I don’t remember much because I was unconscious. I woke up in the recovery room to a nurse that wouldn’t stop talking to me. I remember feeling drowsy but he was trying to evaluate if I was well enough to go home. An hour later I call our dad to pick me up. I remember feeling really sleepy and just wanting to rest. We get home, I eat a little, and take a nap. That night I was in so much physical pain but not as much pain as my heart was in. I remember sitting on the couch thinking of how you weren’t in there anymore. Thankfully my mom was here to help me through the next few days.
My heart still longs for you. My natural reactions and bodily movements still caress my tummy as if you’re still in there. Oh how I wish you were still in there. I selfishly want you to myself. My heart has never felt this type of pain. It aches like I’m missing a part of myself. Like a part of me is gone. My insides want to scream. I know you’re in a better place but I’m still left with my mind wondering what you would have been like. Would you look more like your daddy or would you be an exact replica of me like your brother is? What would you grow up to be? All these questions will never be answered. I just need to trust that this was all part of God’s plan for us. I miss you, I love you, forever my third baby.
