The Life not lived

We are a very blessed family. I have a husband who not only loves me but works daily to make our marriage terrific...it isn't perfect (far from it), but we are dedicated to one another and work really hard to strengthen our marriage. We have two healthy, energetic, social and hilarious children. One boy, one girl. We have a dog that loves everyone, rarely barks and only makes herself known when food is being served. We live near a beach. My husband has a steady job which he does well at and I get to live my dream of staying home and taking care of my family.

Why would we ever want more? Well, for about a year now I have longed for a third child. Timing seemed wrong and so we waited for dust to settle and for our hearts to agree before we pursued that third baby.  Oh what joy when 4 days before Christmas I got the best gift ever...a positive pregnancy test.  We have never had any issues with our pregnancies and typically have told family and close friends almost immediately (between 5 and 7 weeks).  Since our son is almost 5 and more aware of things, we decided to get through our first appointment before telling our children of their soon to be baby brother or sister.

We had so much fun telling our parents. I will never forget the hugs, shouts of joy and excitement on our dear friends faces as we told them.

We started planning. Talking about names, rearranging sleeping arrangements to allow more space for our older daughter. It seemed everyone we knew was letting the cat out of the bag about their sweet babies that were on the way but we waited patiently for that first appointment at 8.5 weeks.

We did test the water with our children though:
"Eli, what would you think about having another baby brother or sister?"
"Ummm, that sounds like fun."
"What would you rather have, a brother or a sister?"
"Brother. No sister. No, both!" Then he stood up, put his hands on his hips and with the most grown up look and stature turned to me and said, "what do you think Mommy? You have enough room in that belly of yours for two babies?"

We were a bit nervous that the ultrasound would reveal two little babies...scared but would have been thrilled. Especially considering what we found out instead.

My husband and I arranged to have a friend watch our kids so we could get the first look at our new baby together. It was a new doctor's office and the earliest I had ever gone in for an appointment. I was 12 weeks with Eli and 10 with Elle. The technician started her machine and the excitement between Isaac and I was almost tangible.

And then the air started to leave the room.

"So, are you sure you are pregnant?"
"Oh, yes ma'am. Quite positive."
"Could you be off on your dates?"
"No, I had a positive test on December 21st. I am quite sure."
"Well, this is your uterus, (showing us on the screen) and there is no baby in there. You are sure you are....oh no... this is not good. No, this is not good at all."

She said a few other things as she started measurements and typed the words on the screen, "Ectopic Pregnancy."

And there it was. Our beautiful baby. The picture on the screen looked just like the others. Odd shaped head and tiny nubs for arms and legs. And there in the middle, the fast and clear beating of our babies heart. The difference? This baby was not in the perfectly safe womb, it was somewhere on the right side of my body. Presumably in my fallopian tube but we would find out hours later, after surgery, that it had actually attached to my right ovary. Which, had to be removed.

Why am I writing this? For closure I guess. Because although our baby was only 8.5 weeks, it was our baby and it had a future that will never come to fruition. Because I have to remind myself of what happened because some moments I forget and start to day dream about September again. Because I want others to know that though we didn't get to name our baby or hold or baby or sing to our baby, it was still our baby and loved like our other two children.

The hours leading up to my surgery and the remainder of my time in the hospital were and still are a blur. I just know every time someone asked me, "why are you here?" and I had to say, "because I have an ectopic pregnancy and the baby has to be removed," a box of tissues was immediately handed to me.

The doctors may have referred to our baby as "the pregnancy" or "pregnancy tissue" but they would always hesitate when they had to say, "an 8 week fetus with a heartbeat." It was a life. A life that would not be lived outside of me.  A life that though we never got to hold in our hands will live on in our hearts forever. I don't understand why this miracle never made it into our home. I do not know nor do I care to question my Lord as to why we have to suffer this pain and ponder the what-ifs. It doesn't change anything to have the answer.

The loss is the same and I choose to find joy and happiness.

I am thankful that we live when and where we do so that this abnormal pregnancy was detected before a rupture which would have been life-threatening to me. I am grateful for the moments I have had with my husband quietly crying together, or talking about our loss and comforting one another. I am thankful that we are now closer. I am thankful for my two sweet babies at home and the love they have poured upon me as I have been less able to love on them due to recovering. I am thankful for the outpouring from our friends and neighbors who know of our loss.

We are so blessed.

The loss of this child doesn't change that. Any loss doesn't change that. I know that I am loved and we are loved by a Father who mourns with us our losses.

"All of my life, in every season, you are still God, I have a reason to sing. I have a reason to worship...I will bring praise, no weapon formed against me shall remain. I will rejoice, God is my victory and He is here." -Hillsong, Desert Song