The last couple of days have felt like a nightmare. But, then I wake up and discover that it is real, time and time again. There is no heartbeat. There is no baby. Not anymore. I keep seeing myself in that ER bed hearing the doctor say, "miscarriage" and I still feel like it wasn't me. It can't be me, right?
But, it is.
As they wheeled me into ultrasound I remember thinking, Jesus, you're still the same. You are the same when I enter this room as when I leave it. And I really believe it. He is the same and was the same on December 12 as he was on December 13 and December 14. I believe it. But, it doesn't make me hurt any less.
I know I am not the first woman to go through this loss. I know I won't be the last. I know there are mothers who hold their babies in their arms before having to give them up. But, it doesn't make my pain go away. This pain is mine and it is raw. I feel broken and lost.
I don't know where to start. I don't know where it ends. Every time I feel a glimpse of hope, I remember what is lost and it hits me deep again. No June 30th. No tiny toes or fingers. No birthdays or family photos. No heartbeat.
What was so joyful just last week has shaken my life upside down. It is hard to know that the rest of the world is going about their days. It's hard and I want to scream JUST. STOP. But, it doesn't. People are out buying gifts and decorating trees, and I don't blame them a bit. I wish I could focus on those things instead. But, I can't.
I would be lying if I said I wasn't angry. I am angry. I'm mad. I'm upset. But, I refuse to be bitter. The Lord is still good. He is still good. Even if I have to fight to remind myself. IT IS TRUE! I saw it in the hospital administrator who followed me to the parking lot to tell me she understood and was praying for me. To Michelle, you will never understand the weight of those words to me.
HE IS THE SAME!