Friday the 13th (Take two)

It seems unreal to me that it was just a month ago that I learned about this little baby. Four weeks we've known, celebrated, planned, discussed, dreamed of our little October baby. But this time around Friday the 13th wasn't so good to us.

I had some very small spotting on Thursday evening... not enough to even worry about really. Pink, super light, only when I wiped. But I worried. This time everything was different. I felt great! I was never sick. I had such few pregnancy symptoms the past nine weeks and that made me nervous. I was so excited for our ultrasound on Monday so we could hear the baby's heartbeat, see our little peanut and begin to share our wonderful news. Only this Friday the 13th wasn't so kind to us.

The bleeding got worse and worse throughout the day. Still only enough to wear a panty liner. But then I started to feel it... and then there were clots. The doctor said to come in. Wanted to check it all out and set our mind's at ease... or know if there was something wrong. There was something wrong. I could just feel it.

Ironic, sad, or just plain cruel but I had been so nervous about feeling so good with this baby that I looked into the rates/chances of miscarriage in the first trimester. The good news was: the longer you were pregnant, the less likely you were to miscarry. Actually, by 9 weeks the chance dropped down to the absolute lowest it would drop down to-- 2%. I was feeling good, I was looking good, and baby was exactly 9 weeks. Things were looking up!!

We prayed... and we prayed... and we prayed. We prayed together, we prayed apart. I know Jordan and my prayers aligned. There were all something along the lines of "keep our baby healthy and help our baby grow... but if that is not your plan Lord, then help us remember your plans are greater than ours... Your will be done Lord, Your will be done." But I really didn't want this to be His will. I really didn't want to lose this baby.

We got to the clinic a little after 3:00. The ultrasound wasn't good... I suspected it wouldn't be. She didn't see what she wanted to see, so she wanted to do an transvaginal ultrasound, too. I could go to the bathroom first. What a relief... I really had to go. Except this time, it was really not good. There in the ultrasound bathroom we lost our baby number two. It felt so strange.... and it felt sooo sad. My body hurt. My heart was broken.

In one of the worst moments of my life, God offered peace and understanding. As our sweet little Logan began to provide comfort to us in a way that we couldn't comfort each-other, He reminded us that HE is still in charge. "Your will be done, Lord, Your will be done." Logan curled in to hug and comfort me as I fumbled with the loss of his little brother or sister. Logan patted me on the shoulder and offered up kiss upon kiss as I wept with a broken heart. Logan provided healing through a way that was far greater than a human healing can be done. Jesus worked to remind us of His broken heart, His understanding and His healing through our healthy little boy.

Sadness... brokenness.... aches... pain... sum of the rest of that crappy Friday the 13th. God is the healer and provider and I strongly put my faith in His plans for our future and our family. I know He will provide for us. A little bit of my heart is missing today... a little bit might be missing forever. I am grieving our October baby and praying that God is comforting and providing for this baby in a way that we couldn't hear on Earth.

God is still good, even in this, God is still good.

 For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the Lord, “plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.-- Jeremiah 29:11

It was a really great 9 weeks, baby... really great!