This post is not a light hearted one and I really struggled with whether I should share it on the internet but it’s a part of my story. My hope is that my pain will help others.
June, 2013
One of my favorite moments in “You’ve Got Mail” is one after Kathleen finds out about “Fox Books Store”. It’s just one of her sitting at her computer writing an email talking about her life and how she just wants to send out her feelings with no need of advice, just sends them out there into the void. She calls Joe (aka NY152) Dear Void. This scene has a melancholy feel to it that gets me every time. I am always hit with a need and a desire to write to someone, to send out my feelings, my random thoughts out into the air, knowing that someone somewhere would read them. And once they read them, they would not try to fix a problem, or give their opinion but would just listen to them. Right now, I am filled with this longing to have a Void to send out my thoughts to. I love my husband, who is always there to listen and hold me when I cry and to laugh with me. But right now, I don’t really need someone to fix anything because there is nothing anyone can say nor do that will start our little baby’s heartbeat again.
A month and half ago I looked down at the pregnancy test and instead of seeing one line which for the past year is all I had seen, I saw two. We were three weeks pregnant. I was rather freaked out because although for the past year we had talked, planned and tried; the reality of a baby growing inside of me was scary. I had finally come to accept our life, and enjoy the fact that we could just be us. We were not tied down, not even with a dog. We could decide on Friday afternoon to head out of town, and an hour later with a bag packed, a hotel booked, car gassed up, we could be on our way. I realized that I loved our life and I was okay with not being a mom. Not having to worry about someone else’s bodily functions, their eating needs, their activities. And although I still wanted that for us, for the time being I was okay with what we had. And then the second line showed up.
If I am being completely honest, I wasn’t fully excited about the fact that I was pregnant. I realized that in 9 short months our lives would completely change. We would never be “us” again…at least not for 18 or so years. I realized that my plan to go to Boston was out, that Christmas in Colorado with family was most likely out as well. I walked into my newly redone office and thought to myself that I only had 7 or so months left to enjoy it- to have my own space in our little house. All these thoughts ran through my head and for the next couple of weeks, the changes were all I could think of. I knew I would eventually get to a place of utter excitement but for the time I was simply a little disappointed and a LOT scared.
The next month flew by and I still wasn’t fully excited about our baby. I definitely was not excited about the way I felt all the time and how crazy I felt. But I looked forward to after my birthday and sharing the great news with our parents. During the time my parents were in town, our first doctor’s appointment was scheduled. The morning of, I was really nervous. I had felt different the past few days, and I feared that something was wrong, that something had changed. I remember walking out of the house that morning filled with hope, excitement, and a little fear. Before leaving Michael turns around and says, “Grab the camera, we will want to record this day.” So camera in hand, I close the door behind me.
The air is light with excitement as we walk into the doctor’s office. We are all smiles. My name is called and we head back, I get weighed and am led to the exam room where we are informed we are the first of the day so we shouldn’t have to wait very long. Sitting on the table, Michael and I nervously joke with one another until the doctor comes in. Finally, I lay down and the ultrasound begins. The moment the doctor says, “And I see a little baby,” that excitement I had been waiting for rises up inside of me. Michael is standing beside me holding my hand as we wait for the doctor to swing the monitor around so we can see our little baby for the first time. But minutes pass and nothing is said. I look up at Michael and smile, he squeezes my hand. “We are having a baby,” is all that is running through my mind…until I hear these words, “I am having a hard time finding a heartbeat.” In that moment, my heart sinks and all I can think is, “I want this baby, please God find a heart beat.” Tears form in my eyes, looking up at Michael I can tell that all the excitement is gone. Turning on the light the doctor says she wants to send us over to another part of the hospital that has a better ultra sound machine. She leaves us in the room, a room that not ten minutes ago was filled with love, excitement, hope and joy. Now, its just despair. Michael has gone completely white, is sweating, and fears he is going to pass out. I am filled with anxiety and longing. A few minutes later, we are heading to have another examination.
Walking into this next exam room, it’s hard not to think the worst. It’s not an exam to prove life, but an exam to prove the absence of life. All I can do is lie on the table and look at the ceiling as the tech runs the exam pushing buttons and saying nothing. We head back to the waiting room while the tech calls our doctor with the results. I want nothing more than to be anywhere else. This day was supposed to be filled with joy and pictures. We were suppose to leave with the black and white pictures of our baby…ones that you can’t tell what the blob is but trust the doctor when she says it’s a baby right here. Instead, 2 hours later we are waiting…with little hope those pictures will be in our hands when we leave. Little hope that we will have exciting news to share. A few minutes later, the tech comes out and asks us to come back to the exam room. She has our doctor on the phone and wants me to talk to her. I know then, its over. All the hope, the longing, the excitement, it was all over. Our baby didn’t have a heartbeat. Our baby was two months along but was gone now.
Walking back into the doctor’s office where we were greeted not 2 and half hours earlier with smiles and excitement, we are greeted with sympathy and kindness. We talked with our doctor about what was going to happen and what our options were. She was hopeful that we got pregnant, that it was a good thing and that these things were very common. It didn’t matter to me, all I could think of is the life that was inside of me was now gone.
It’s not fair and it doesn’t make any sense what so ever. We have been hoping, praying, and trying for a baby for a year and then we finally get pregnant and our baby is taken. I was excited for a moment and in that moment; I couldn’t wait to meet this baby. And although it took until the words “I can’t find a heart beat” for me to realize how much I wanted this baby, it doesn’t ease the pain. In fact, in some ways it makes it worse. I know that God is in control and that He is good. That he has a plan and a purpose for everything, but it does not change the fact that its not fair. It doesn’t ease the disappointment; it doesn’t stop the ache in my heart and the longing to meet this baby. I had life inside of me, we created life and for no explainable reason that life was taken away. I long for the day when I am in Heaven and I will walk up to this beautiful child and know that was the life Michael and I created. I will finally get to hold my baby but I wanted to hold my baby this side of Heaven as well.
We would have loved this child, taken care of this child…what went wrong that we don’t ever get to know them, never will get to hear them laugh. I just don’t understand. There are so many people who get pregnant by mistake, who are 15 and don’t know what to do, who are not fit or ready to raise a child…we are ready, we are fit…so why? I know there is no explanation. There is nothing we could have done differently to change it but that doesn’t fix it.
You know, our lives are still forever changed but now it’s not by baby giggles, toys, crying, and late night feedings but by the deep scars, this pain has created. I will forever have the scar of life ending etched on my heart. I know that over time, the scar will fade into the background but I will always feel the raised little ridge it has created. I will forever wonder about this baby’s life with the excitement of Heaven. Our baby is in Jesus’ arms and knows love.
So,
I love you, Dear Void, and wanted you so much but I know you are in good hands. Until we meet. Love, me
November, 2013
One month ago, we discovered we were blessed with another miracle. From the first moment of me seeing that second line I was filled with excitement and longing. I wanted this baby so much. I had no fear in how our lives would change; I was excited about moving my desk out of my office and turning it into a little baby’s room. I tried to keep fear at bay, telling myself that everything was going to be okay, that we would get to that 8 week mark and hear his or her’s little heart beat and this time we would leave with those black and white blob pictures.
We enter the 7th week and the bleeding starts. I am filled with anxiety and worry because although I know that it can be normal to have some bleeding during pregnancy, all the blood tells me is that something is wrong. I try to get into see my doctor that day but due to work I am unable but hold onto the hope that I can get in the next and everything would be okay.
Even when mild cramping starts, I try to cling to hope that it doesn’t mean what I think it means. That maybe I just over did it yesterday, maybe I didn’t get enough sleep or need to eat something. But when mid-afternoon finds a blood clot, I know the beginning of the end has begun and I lose it. I can barely make it back to floor to find my supervisor to tell her I needed to go leave. I cry and yell all the way home. I am so angry, hurt, and confused.
I won’t go into the details that the next 6 hours held but just say the worst pain I have ever experienced went through my body both physically and emotionally
The next morning at the doctor’s confirmed, what I knew to be true…our second little baby left us 5 months after our first almost to the day.
There are no words to describe the pain in my heart.
Dear little Voids, take care of one another. I wish I could be the one taking care of you but I know you will be good to each other. Love, me.
January, 2014
To say I was angry with God is an understatement. I could not possibly understand why he would allow what happened to us, twice, in six months. After our second little one left, we had countless tests done and everything came back perfectly normal. I did not want anything to be wrong with me but I did hope that something would come back so at least we would have some kind of answer.
I struggled with knowing how powerful God is, how he has the power to create the universe, to raise the dead, to heal sickness and yet with all the prayer being poured into our little baby he did nothing. I felt as if God simply turned his back on our prayers. I knew in my head the truth but my heart could not comprehend and did not care to listen. I retreated from community and church. I couldn’t be around people because I did not want to talk about what was going on but I never was good at looking people in the eye, saying I was fine when I was broken inside. I did not want to lie to people so I hide. I knew that I would not stay hidden but I needed to be away from life for while.
I wrote everyday on my novel for NaNoWriMo, and finished a week early. I went to Utah and spent a week with family and enjoyed being around my mom and dad. Getting to hug my grandpa and grandma who I had not seen for 3 years was amazing. However, in midst of all greatness of the holiday I still was unbelievably sad. I did all I could to keep busy after Thanksgiving, decorating our house for Christmas, finishing our shopping and wrapping presents. I did not see many people except for Michael and a few that reached out to us. We left for Colorado a few weeks later on a great road trip to see my family.
We checked out all the “Chronicles of Narnia” for our road trip and we headed out on the open road with the stories of Narnia and the love of Aslan filling our car. I still was struggling to even spend time with Jesus or listen to worship music but somehow when Aslan spoke truth he spoke to my heart. He roared his great roar, I felt the walls of bitterness, and anger begin to fall. I felt his warm fur in between my fingers and hung on for dear life. We ran through the land of Narnia together and through our adventure, I began to feel the love of God flow back through me.
I never thought that a children’s book would help heal severe wounds but somehow the words of a lion did not seem so threatening and I could grasp the truth from them. To say that I am completely healed would be a lie however, I feel myself now walking out of this place. I feel myself coming back to life and emerging back into reality. I miss my two Dear Voids so very much and as so many of friends reach their due dates its hard not thinking, “That should be me…” I know I have a long hard road ahead of me but I am hopeful that 2014 holds great and wonderful things for Michael and me.
So, I will leave you now with a couple of quotes that really touched my heart and helped my in this process of healing
“Wrong will be right, when Aslan comes in sight,
At the sound of his roar, sorrows will be no more,
When he bares his teeth, winter meets its death,
And when he shakes his mane, we shall have spring again.”
― C.S. Lewis, The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe
“It isn't Narnia, you know," sobbed Lucy. "It's you. We shan't meet you there. And how can we live, never meeting you?"
"But you shall meet me, dear one," said Aslan.
"Are -are you there too, Sir?" said Edmund.
"I am," said Aslan. "But there I have another name. You must learn to know me by that name. This was the very reason why you were brought to Narnia, that by knowing me here for a little, you may know me better there.”
― C.S. Lewis, The Voyage of the Dawn Treader
June, 2013
One of my favorite moments in “You’ve Got Mail” is one after Kathleen finds out about “Fox Books Store”. It’s just one of her sitting at her computer writing an email talking about her life and how she just wants to send out her feelings with no need of advice, just sends them out there into the void. She calls Joe (aka NY152) Dear Void. This scene has a melancholy feel to it that gets me every time. I am always hit with a need and a desire to write to someone, to send out my feelings, my random thoughts out into the air, knowing that someone somewhere would read them. And once they read them, they would not try to fix a problem, or give their opinion but would just listen to them. Right now, I am filled with this longing to have a Void to send out my thoughts to. I love my husband, who is always there to listen and hold me when I cry and to laugh with me. But right now, I don’t really need someone to fix anything because there is nothing anyone can say nor do that will start our little baby’s heartbeat again.
A month and half ago I looked down at the pregnancy test and instead of seeing one line which for the past year is all I had seen, I saw two. We were three weeks pregnant. I was rather freaked out because although for the past year we had talked, planned and tried; the reality of a baby growing inside of me was scary. I had finally come to accept our life, and enjoy the fact that we could just be us. We were not tied down, not even with a dog. We could decide on Friday afternoon to head out of town, and an hour later with a bag packed, a hotel booked, car gassed up, we could be on our way. I realized that I loved our life and I was okay with not being a mom. Not having to worry about someone else’s bodily functions, their eating needs, their activities. And although I still wanted that for us, for the time being I was okay with what we had. And then the second line showed up.
If I am being completely honest, I wasn’t fully excited about the fact that I was pregnant. I realized that in 9 short months our lives would completely change. We would never be “us” again…at least not for 18 or so years. I realized that my plan to go to Boston was out, that Christmas in Colorado with family was most likely out as well. I walked into my newly redone office and thought to myself that I only had 7 or so months left to enjoy it- to have my own space in our little house. All these thoughts ran through my head and for the next couple of weeks, the changes were all I could think of. I knew I would eventually get to a place of utter excitement but for the time I was simply a little disappointed and a LOT scared.
The next month flew by and I still wasn’t fully excited about our baby. I definitely was not excited about the way I felt all the time and how crazy I felt. But I looked forward to after my birthday and sharing the great news with our parents. During the time my parents were in town, our first doctor’s appointment was scheduled. The morning of, I was really nervous. I had felt different the past few days, and I feared that something was wrong, that something had changed. I remember walking out of the house that morning filled with hope, excitement, and a little fear. Before leaving Michael turns around and says, “Grab the camera, we will want to record this day.” So camera in hand, I close the door behind me.
The air is light with excitement as we walk into the doctor’s office. We are all smiles. My name is called and we head back, I get weighed and am led to the exam room where we are informed we are the first of the day so we shouldn’t have to wait very long. Sitting on the table, Michael and I nervously joke with one another until the doctor comes in. Finally, I lay down and the ultrasound begins. The moment the doctor says, “And I see a little baby,” that excitement I had been waiting for rises up inside of me. Michael is standing beside me holding my hand as we wait for the doctor to swing the monitor around so we can see our little baby for the first time. But minutes pass and nothing is said. I look up at Michael and smile, he squeezes my hand. “We are having a baby,” is all that is running through my mind…until I hear these words, “I am having a hard time finding a heartbeat.” In that moment, my heart sinks and all I can think is, “I want this baby, please God find a heart beat.” Tears form in my eyes, looking up at Michael I can tell that all the excitement is gone. Turning on the light the doctor says she wants to send us over to another part of the hospital that has a better ultra sound machine. She leaves us in the room, a room that not ten minutes ago was filled with love, excitement, hope and joy. Now, its just despair. Michael has gone completely white, is sweating, and fears he is going to pass out. I am filled with anxiety and longing. A few minutes later, we are heading to have another examination.
Walking into this next exam room, it’s hard not to think the worst. It’s not an exam to prove life, but an exam to prove the absence of life. All I can do is lie on the table and look at the ceiling as the tech runs the exam pushing buttons and saying nothing. We head back to the waiting room while the tech calls our doctor with the results. I want nothing more than to be anywhere else. This day was supposed to be filled with joy and pictures. We were suppose to leave with the black and white pictures of our baby…ones that you can’t tell what the blob is but trust the doctor when she says it’s a baby right here. Instead, 2 hours later we are waiting…with little hope those pictures will be in our hands when we leave. Little hope that we will have exciting news to share. A few minutes later, the tech comes out and asks us to come back to the exam room. She has our doctor on the phone and wants me to talk to her. I know then, its over. All the hope, the longing, the excitement, it was all over. Our baby didn’t have a heartbeat. Our baby was two months along but was gone now.
Walking back into the doctor’s office where we were greeted not 2 and half hours earlier with smiles and excitement, we are greeted with sympathy and kindness. We talked with our doctor about what was going to happen and what our options were. She was hopeful that we got pregnant, that it was a good thing and that these things were very common. It didn’t matter to me, all I could think of is the life that was inside of me was now gone.
It’s not fair and it doesn’t make any sense what so ever. We have been hoping, praying, and trying for a baby for a year and then we finally get pregnant and our baby is taken. I was excited for a moment and in that moment; I couldn’t wait to meet this baby. And although it took until the words “I can’t find a heart beat” for me to realize how much I wanted this baby, it doesn’t ease the pain. In fact, in some ways it makes it worse. I know that God is in control and that He is good. That he has a plan and a purpose for everything, but it does not change the fact that its not fair. It doesn’t ease the disappointment; it doesn’t stop the ache in my heart and the longing to meet this baby. I had life inside of me, we created life and for no explainable reason that life was taken away. I long for the day when I am in Heaven and I will walk up to this beautiful child and know that was the life Michael and I created. I will finally get to hold my baby but I wanted to hold my baby this side of Heaven as well.
We would have loved this child, taken care of this child…what went wrong that we don’t ever get to know them, never will get to hear them laugh. I just don’t understand. There are so many people who get pregnant by mistake, who are 15 and don’t know what to do, who are not fit or ready to raise a child…we are ready, we are fit…so why? I know there is no explanation. There is nothing we could have done differently to change it but that doesn’t fix it.
You know, our lives are still forever changed but now it’s not by baby giggles, toys, crying, and late night feedings but by the deep scars, this pain has created. I will forever have the scar of life ending etched on my heart. I know that over time, the scar will fade into the background but I will always feel the raised little ridge it has created. I will forever wonder about this baby’s life with the excitement of Heaven. Our baby is in Jesus’ arms and knows love.
So,
I love you, Dear Void, and wanted you so much but I know you are in good hands. Until we meet. Love, me
November, 2013
One month ago, we discovered we were blessed with another miracle. From the first moment of me seeing that second line I was filled with excitement and longing. I wanted this baby so much. I had no fear in how our lives would change; I was excited about moving my desk out of my office and turning it into a little baby’s room. I tried to keep fear at bay, telling myself that everything was going to be okay, that we would get to that 8 week mark and hear his or her’s little heart beat and this time we would leave with those black and white blob pictures.
We enter the 7th week and the bleeding starts. I am filled with anxiety and worry because although I know that it can be normal to have some bleeding during pregnancy, all the blood tells me is that something is wrong. I try to get into see my doctor that day but due to work I am unable but hold onto the hope that I can get in the next and everything would be okay.
Even when mild cramping starts, I try to cling to hope that it doesn’t mean what I think it means. That maybe I just over did it yesterday, maybe I didn’t get enough sleep or need to eat something. But when mid-afternoon finds a blood clot, I know the beginning of the end has begun and I lose it. I can barely make it back to floor to find my supervisor to tell her I needed to go leave. I cry and yell all the way home. I am so angry, hurt, and confused.
I won’t go into the details that the next 6 hours held but just say the worst pain I have ever experienced went through my body both physically and emotionally
The next morning at the doctor’s confirmed, what I knew to be true…our second little baby left us 5 months after our first almost to the day.
There are no words to describe the pain in my heart.
Dear little Voids, take care of one another. I wish I could be the one taking care of you but I know you will be good to each other. Love, me.
January, 2014
To say I was angry with God is an understatement. I could not possibly understand why he would allow what happened to us, twice, in six months. After our second little one left, we had countless tests done and everything came back perfectly normal. I did not want anything to be wrong with me but I did hope that something would come back so at least we would have some kind of answer.
I struggled with knowing how powerful God is, how he has the power to create the universe, to raise the dead, to heal sickness and yet with all the prayer being poured into our little baby he did nothing. I felt as if God simply turned his back on our prayers. I knew in my head the truth but my heart could not comprehend and did not care to listen. I retreated from community and church. I couldn’t be around people because I did not want to talk about what was going on but I never was good at looking people in the eye, saying I was fine when I was broken inside. I did not want to lie to people so I hide. I knew that I would not stay hidden but I needed to be away from life for while.
I wrote everyday on my novel for NaNoWriMo, and finished a week early. I went to Utah and spent a week with family and enjoyed being around my mom and dad. Getting to hug my grandpa and grandma who I had not seen for 3 years was amazing. However, in midst of all greatness of the holiday I still was unbelievably sad. I did all I could to keep busy after Thanksgiving, decorating our house for Christmas, finishing our shopping and wrapping presents. I did not see many people except for Michael and a few that reached out to us. We left for Colorado a few weeks later on a great road trip to see my family.
We checked out all the “Chronicles of Narnia” for our road trip and we headed out on the open road with the stories of Narnia and the love of Aslan filling our car. I still was struggling to even spend time with Jesus or listen to worship music but somehow when Aslan spoke truth he spoke to my heart. He roared his great roar, I felt the walls of bitterness, and anger begin to fall. I felt his warm fur in between my fingers and hung on for dear life. We ran through the land of Narnia together and through our adventure, I began to feel the love of God flow back through me.
I never thought that a children’s book would help heal severe wounds but somehow the words of a lion did not seem so threatening and I could grasp the truth from them. To say that I am completely healed would be a lie however, I feel myself now walking out of this place. I feel myself coming back to life and emerging back into reality. I miss my two Dear Voids so very much and as so many of friends reach their due dates its hard not thinking, “That should be me…” I know I have a long hard road ahead of me but I am hopeful that 2014 holds great and wonderful things for Michael and me.
So, I will leave you now with a couple of quotes that really touched my heart and helped my in this process of healing
“Wrong will be right, when Aslan comes in sight,
At the sound of his roar, sorrows will be no more,
When he bares his teeth, winter meets its death,
And when he shakes his mane, we shall have spring again.”
― C.S. Lewis, The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe
“It isn't Narnia, you know," sobbed Lucy. "It's you. We shan't meet you there. And how can we live, never meeting you?"
"But you shall meet me, dear one," said Aslan.
"Are -are you there too, Sir?" said Edmund.
"I am," said Aslan. "But there I have another name. You must learn to know me by that name. This was the very reason why you were brought to Narnia, that by knowing me here for a little, you may know me better there.”
― C.S. Lewis, The Voyage of the Dawn Treader
