4 Days of Waiting

It has been a couple weeks since the miscarriage, and other than being more exhausted then usual, I am doing a lot better emotionally and physically. I am thankful that the doctor did tell us before the miscarriage happened, yet I remember that the worst days of emotions were the 4 days of waiting.

On May 28th, a day before our anniversary, Alvin and I went to the doctor for an ultrasound. During the ultrasound is when I realized something was really wrong. The doctor then confirmed that the ultrasound showed no embryo, something that should be seen at 8 weeks of pregnancy. The doctor then quoted that there was a 60% chance of miscarriage.

Due to the fact the doctor announced the news in such a hurried and non-emotional way, the news didn't sink in at first. As I was walking out of the doctor's office, it finally hit me. I can't remember much about leaving the hospital or what Alvin and I talked about as we walked to the grocery store, but I do remember going to a western grocery store, picking up some avocados, cheese, yogurt, and a big bag of Sun Chips to bring to the hotel room. As we walked to the hotel from the grocery store, Alvin and I almost finished the bag of Sun Chips.

I remember that I wanted to start the grieving for the baby that day. I felt like 60% meant that most likely I will have a miscarriage. I also was afraid to have hope that everything would be ok, because I was afraid to be disappointed. I remember that night, Alvin said something that helped me get a better perspective on the situation. He reminded me that our hope should not be on whether we have a miscarriage or not, but our hope is in something bigger. Our hope is on our Father's promises which may or may not include a child in our lives. This reminder gave me hope for the future, no matter what happens.

Still, the next few days I had a lot of ups and downs. It is hard feeling so helpless in a situation. I can't fix the problem, but I just wanted to get into my belly and fix it. During the nights, I would wake up with anxiety that at anytime I may lose the baby. What didn't help was that my belly continued to grow, and a stranger even asked me how many months pregnant I was. While holding back tears, I answered "two months."

On Tuesday, June 1st at night, I had the miscarriage. During the emergency room visit, even though I was in a daze, I felt peace. Yes, I was sad, but I also felt like I was prepared, and now instead of being in a waiting period of half-hope/half-grief, I felt like there was an answer from the Father.

After the miscarriage, I started to recover emotionally and physically. I still was extremely tired at 9 or 10pm at night, and went to sleep early only to wake up at 6am. I know the four days for waiting was an extremely hard time, but I have learned so much about myself, my relationship with the Father, and my relationship with Alvin. Right now, I cannot say I appreciated the waiting period because it was so hard, but maybe one day.