What Might Have Been (Part II)

(Read Part I here)


Monday Morning: I woke up to a new morning and went about rushing around in order to make the two hour trek to my 10:00 am appointment. I felt fine. I mean, besides being nervous of what the day's outcome would bring. Either way, I knew that I needed to trust in what God's answer would be that day and I knew if it was not the outcome I desired that I would have to muster up a whole lotta strength to get through this. Thankfully, Reed decided at the last minute to accompany me to my appointment. Before going out the door, I made one more bathroom stop. And there is was. I was spotting. I felt sick to my stomach. If I was not pregnant, this was not good. If I was pregnant, this was not good. I was caught in the middle. I told Reed and he remained hopeful and reminded me that we just needed to get to the appointment to find out the real answers. So we drove. I wasn't giving up hope yet. I just couldn't. Upon going in for my appointment, the nurse asked me the usual questions. Shortly, female Dr. K entered the room. She was sitting glancing over my lab results from Good Friday and then questioned what day of my cycle that was taken on. I told her and she looked at the numbers again. And then she grinned and almost giddy declared that 'well then it looks like you are pregnant'. I saw her smile, but I knew that I could not even will myself to break into that same smile, not yet.

She started making plans and throwing out numerous details. I'd get more blood drawn that day before I left in order to be sure that my hormonal levels were increasing over the last few days. I wouldn't have the results until tomorrow. I could do a urine pregnancy test there at the office and that would give us a better idea now too since the HCG should all be out of my body. I told her that I had been spotting this morning and didn't know what that meant. So off to the bathroom I went.

A bit later, Dr. K returned to the exam room minus the huge smile she had displayed earlier. It was accompanied by 'well, so the urine test was positive, but a weak positive so I'm not completely sure that you are pregnant but can't rule it out either'. That's when Reed spoke up. He knew that the only other time we had received a 'weak' positive was with our child we ended up miscarrying six years ago. It was a huge red flag and concern for him upon hearing it. I have known for months now that when I am finally pregnant one day, that I will undoubtedly need to have progesterone shots in order to maintain proper levels and get beyond the first trimester. Dr. K said that in order to be sure that if there was a baby that it was taken care of and given a chance to survive, I should get a progesterone shot that day. With a poke in my bottom and a promise for a phone call tomorrow with the lab results, I was on my way. No better than when I came, but no worse. The spotting seemed to have lightened and I was certain if it would just stop all together there would be a fighting chance that I would have received my hoped for miracle. This would be a long road, if there was one, filled with many blood draws and lab work, shots and checks. We could do this. We'd get through the coming weeks. If it came to that.

So, we drove home, me and my sore fanny with my dear husband. We made a few stops along the way, but eventually arrived home. I waited and prayed. I could hardly sit, that hurt. I could barely walk, I limped. I maintained an awkward position for the rest of the day in an attempt to alleviate the pain. This would all be worth it. The spotting had quit completely. All would be well again come tomorrow.

Tuesday: I spent the day feeling awful. Tired and weary. I walked through the day on edge and ornery, feeling like a zombie. The spotting had begun again, but only lightly. Surely I'd receive a call at any moment. We went about our day with no call. Before taking Lily to her late afternoon piano lesson, I called the clinic to inquire whether my results were in yet. They were busy and hadn't gotten to them yet. Of course not, I'd have to wait. Hours later, we returned from town with no message. No answer. Reed finally came home from work with a questioning look on his face, nope still nothing. Shortly after, the phone rang and it was Dr. K. Without words, I heard her tone and I knew what was coming. 'I'm sorry Sarah, your numbers dropped quite a bit. You are not pregnant. It doesn't seem to me that you ever were, so I don't think there's any chance that you may have miscarried early.' My heart fell to the floor and I held all of the emotion that swirled in my head. I only thought to blurt out that I didn't understand. I had been feeling awful. I didn't feel like myself. And then I was answered with a reminder on how much our psychological side can play a part in our physical. That perhaps the hopeful part about being pregnant had indeed led to my body behaving as it was and me believing that I had pregnancy symptoms.

After hanging up the phone, I think I felt my heart stop beating. I felt my world caving in around me. So dearly had I hoped. So strongly had I prayed. And then I leaned on my comforting husband and I wept. I went through such emotions of pain, sorrow, anger and confusion. Why did He pick me for this cross? I felt it stifling the very breath from me. That's the thing of it that can be so consuming: the what ifs; the what could have been; the unknown future; feeling of failure to yourself, your spouse, your family. The feeling that my body is broken and just won't work again.

It had been an emotional roller coaster in those five days and at that point I just wanted to get off. It was probably one of the toughest ones we have been on in the last four years. There were so many odds that seemed to have been defeated. So many things that could've made pregnancy possible. It should have, could have worked.

In the following days I took my time. I knew that in time, I'd feel like myself and my hopeful heart would mend. The words that kept passing in my thoughts were the words from the Thirteenth Station of the Cross:

'All you who pass by the way, see if there be any sorrow like my sorrow.
The tears are on her cheeks, and there is none to comfort her.'

I knew that I needed to wait patiently for all of the harsh feelings to settle. Like Christ's resurrection that I had anticipated, I needed to spend some time in the tomb before I could rise again.

No matter how hard I try, I cannot help but be hopeful. I cannot close a door, when their is still a glimmer of light shining through the small crack that it leaves open. I do know that adoption is an alternative. For us, we just aren't there yet. We are not in the place where we feel that we are being called to throw ourselves into that process. Maybe some day, but not yet. I also know that right now I can completely rely on my two Catholic physicians, who not only care for me physically but also spiritually and morally. I know that they are going to help me in every way possible to explore options and treatments for me that will help with conception and maintaining a healthy pregnancy.

In faith, I rest and rely on God's infinite goodness and His Divine Plan. I may see it completely different than He, but I try to remain patient as I wait humbly for everything to unfold. For today, I have the strength to do that. But it's hard to say what tomorrow will bring.