Taking Comfort in the Thunder

Over the past couple of weeks, we have received an incredible amount of support from our family and friends. We are so thankful for all of the words of support (and tea), friends who've helped with Owen's schedule, and family who have dropped off flowers. It is a wonderful community that we have, and we would not be able to get through this with out you.

Since my first post last week, I received over 60 emails, messages, comments, texts, and tweets from others who have either felt the same pain of early pregnancy loss, or who just have it in their heart to reach out and give us a hug. It has been incredible, and we are very thankful for the support.

At the early prenatal appointment {August 21st}, we were given three options. Let nature take its course with high risk of infection since the baby stopped growing 3weeks ago, take medication to speed the process up, or have a D&C. Since it was a Fertility Clinic that we went to, the doctor that we saw said that he wouldn't recommend a D&C. While it has its merits, he said that he wouldn't want to risk infection or scarring, and letting things go naturally could mean a very long, painful process that may lead to infection or hemorrhage. So..we opted for misoprostal.

My husband had to travel near the end of the week for work, and once Owen was in bed, I was left to my own devices. I had medication to take, and resting to do...which meant that my brain was going into over drive.



While I am thankful that my body knew that something was wrong, and things happened within my control to bring this to a close, it is a very odd feeling to go from pregnant to all of a sudden not. To have a baby bump that looked similar to 17weeks in a first pregnancy then all of a sudden have a flat stomach within three days.

It's a very very strange feeling, and not one that I wish for any woman to have to go through. Unfortunately, it happens alot. I didn't realize how high the miscarriage rates are, but holy moly. 1 in 3 early pregnancies end in miscarriage. Heartbreaking.

Wednesday night I knew that it happened, and went to sleep with a strange mix of relief and sorrow. I still had medication to take every six hours, which meant a wakeup call at 2am then again at 8am. When I woke up at 8am, it was pouring outside.

Then I heard it...thunder. Thunderstorms have always been symbolic to me, as my Dad used to sit on the front porch and watch them roll in.

He was there. He was holding our babe in his very strong and loving hands. He was bringing an intense amount of comfort, and a great deal of peace to my heart to know that our babe would be okay with him.

Thank you, Dad.

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