Unexpected Expectations

How do I even begin this? There's so much to say yet I feel that if I let myself experience it again that the pain will soak deeper into my soul. And while I know that I need to, I fear for where it may take me.

I've heard that the greatest pain you could ever feel is when you lose a child. While some believe life begins at birth, I believe life begins at the moment the Lord allows a little life to start forming in the deepest parts of a mothers womb. Its sits, unknown yet to the world, or even it mother, but life is growing, quickly, precisely,intentionally, how God chooses that life to grow. And within days, a beating heart. The heart that would hold every hope I had in the world.

I know that a pregnancy loss isn't something that a lot of women go into detail about. It can be graphic, and scary, but I feel like I need to. So I will give discretion from here and tell you that if you don't enjoy the details, now is a good time to stop.



8 weeks ago, my world was rocked when I learned I was expecting our fourth child. While we had always talked about having another baby, my husband and I agreed that waiting a little while longer would be a benefit to us. I was okay with that and begin to look forward over the next year knowing another baby wouldn't been anytime soon. I was sad but okay with it. "But if you come to me in a week and tell me you are pregnant, I will be excited" were the words my husband uttered....fast forward one week later "honey, are you sitting down...."

Its amazing how a simple "postive sign" can turn your world upside down. After being told by my doctor that I probably wouldn't conceive until I was done breastfeeding, it never again crossed my mind that being a week "late" could actually be a pregnancy. But there it was....

It took me a few days to really process it. To fully understand that once again, I would experience the pains of pregnancy, the hardwork of labor, and the beautiful moments with a newborn. I was scared but SO excited. Within days we were discussing baby names, telling our 3yr old and looking forward to another season in our family.

The phrase "still small voice" comes to mind. I know I've read it in the bible or heard in a song, but I can say with a fact that that voice has been whispering since the moment I found out I was pregnant.

"you won't be able to meet this one, Ashley"

Over and over again I could hear this voice. I acknowledged it. I even told close friends and family that I felt like the Lord was preparing me. But I still felt hope that I would meet this little child, and that maybe that voice was my worry and not to listen to it. But the Lord's whispers soon became shouts. I continued to hear him, but ignore it. Around 6 weeks I started to bleed. An ER trip revealed that I had some internal bleeding, and the word miscarriage came up. Okay then...we prayed.

A week later, another ultrasound. Everything looked great, no blood, heathly beating heart. I was overjoyed. I could tell people. This WAS a baby and this baby had a purpose and would be in our family.
"you won't be able to meet this one, Ashley"

7 weeks 5 days....I told people, I made announcements. November 4th, 2 am, the whisper became a yell. I woke up to blood....lots of blood. I woke up Chris, and we left for the ER. I knew, but still had hope. We were lead to our "room." Chris says, "did you see who that was?" "No, who?" "The doctor on call, he's from our church, he's the husband of your friend. I think his name is Matt" "His wife is Carly?" "Yes, I think so"

Tears...okay God, you have this under control. Matt walks in. Eyes meet familiar faces. No introduction needed.

He talks options. I tell him that I just want to know. He pulls in ultrasound machine. silence...silence

"You can see it" thud, thud, thud, thud....its there. Beating heart. I cry. Thank you Jesus. Hopeful.
Wait...wait a little longer....

contractions....medicine.....sleep.....more blood....lets check again.....

Wheeled to ultrasound room.  I'm hopeful.

Darkeness. Quiet. Nothing. "Its gone, there's nothing there" I say. Chris and I lock eyes. His head drops.

Nurse wants to try again.

 I need to go to the bathroom. Still hopeful.

Oh, the blood...so, sooooo much blood. Clots the size of tennis balls. I sit on the toilet, covered blood as I yell for help. Nurse has left to get something. Chris comes in to hold me. Weeping, weeping, weeping.... I clean myself up, nurse comes in. "We don't need to continue" I tell her. I already know. She's silent as she takes me back to my room. Matt walks in. Eyes meet. "You saw?" "yeah..."

I cry some more... Less than hour ago, I saw and heard my baby. Little did I know that that would be our goodbye.

More and more blood. It never stops. I can't believe this little baby that I had so much love for and dreams for is now potentially floating in a toilet bowl. Its not being wrapped in a blanket. I'm not kissing his tiny cheeks or letting him nurse at my breast. There were no visitors to welcome our new life, there were no smiles, no siblings to meet. It wasn't supposed to be this way.

"Can I go home now?" Yes...come back if the bleeding doesn't stop.

We tell Isaiah the baby is in Heaven. He cries. My heart breaks. I can't do this.

The bleeding doesn't stop.

Back to ER. More needles.

Doctor wanted to look. okay fine. I'm exposed.

Forceps....suction....tears....

He asks for a cup from the nurse. She wraps the cup and leaves the room.

Its all done. The phrase "fetal stuff" makes me angry. That was NOT "stuff" that was a child whom just a few hours ago had a heartbeat, who is SO loved and who is apart of my family. I want my baby. I want him home with me. They bring me my baby. Floating in a cup. I don't recongnize my baby, but I know him. "We should name it" Riley...the name Chris had mentioned the night before as we sat in Barnes and Noble on date night, looking through baby names and looking through a book that had pictures of babies from conception to birth. I saw what my baby could look like, and now I saw what my baby actually looked like. This was not how I imagined taking my baby home.

I got home, exhausted. emotional. I needed to sleep. went to bed at 6:30pm

As some of you know, I recently became a birth doula. I help women physically and emotionally during labor and delivery. I have a client due any day.

I wake up at 11:30pm. I have a missed call. My client is in labor. 1:00am I arrive at the hospital. She labors all night, all day. I sleep for minutes at a time in a hard wooden chair or on the floor. I'm still bleeding, still having contractions. I try to ignore it.

Monday 6pm. I'm exhausted. No sleep. No baby. I call my husband who suggests its time to come home. I need to rest. I just lost a baby 12 hours ago. I'm fighting it. I need to be here. 7pm active labor starts. She's in pain. I'm with her through it all. 9pm she gets epidural. 5 centimeters. I'm fading fast. I can't do it anymore. She rests, I go home. She understands, thankfully. I'm disapointed. I really want to be there, but my body needs rest. 10:30 I'm in bed. sleep is good.

6am I wake up. Baby hasn't been born. Start our day. Kids to school. Vote. Go to Target. Feeling weak. More bleeding. I need to stop. I need go home. I can't keep pretending this isn't happening.

I'm finally acknowledging it all. My baby is gone. My plans and dreams are gone. My heart is broken. While I was at the hospital with my client, my husband told me that Isaiah had prayed to God and asked for Him to "put the baby back." How I wish the Lord would answer this little boy's prayer more than anything in the world. But I know He has a plan through this. I saw His hand through it all. I'm so thankful for it all. I'm thankful for the life that grew in my womb for a short time. I'm thankful that He prepared me. I'm thankful for the people that were with me through it. I'm thankful for my husband who never left my side, who held my hand, who held my body, who cried with me, who mourns with me. I'm thankful for all the people who have contacted me with thoughts, prayers and encouragement. I now fully understand who my true friends are. People who I never expected have stepped in with such amazing words, some with no words, some who just listen, some who hug, some who bring food. It all helps. My heart is still sad.

I feel comfort in knowing that so many people know what I'm going through. But mostly that the God and creator of the universe knows as well. He gave His son. He watched His one and only Son be beaten, tortured and left to hang on cross with nails in his hands and feet to die so that I could one day be with him. So that my children could be with Him. So that Riley could be with Him. That is the BEST gift I could recieve. Knowing that my precious child is being held, rocked and loved by the most incredible father of all time. That He loves Riley just as much and more than I do. I trust God more than anyone with my children. Riley belongs to Him. He always has. I have comfort in knowing that one day I WILL meet Riley. I will hold him and kiss him. But until then, he rests in the arms of the almighty father.

We will bury Riley. We will celebrate his life. We will mourn. We will continue. We will praise God. We will be thankful. We will cry. We will pray. We will love. We will be stronger.

I have no more to say....