Yesterday I waked out of the hospital at 9am, after spending a fearful and stormy night there, so very thankful that I won't be bleeding to death anymore as my body tried to flush out my 5 week pregnancy from my body without success. I'm traumatised yet again and this time not from a birth, but from a miscarriage gone wrong. Not only do I have to deal with a loss, but also with the messy effects of my body working hard to start a long healing process.
Today's the first day I am out of bed making breakfast, slowly putting away laundry and processing this heartache that is starting to grow. The questions swirling around in my mind are countless. One miscarriage, yes very possible, but two?! I never saw that one coming as it slapped me straight across my face. I can't cry the tears because I am too strong in the mist of trauma, but the pain and effects of it catch up with me only later like months and years later. The same happened when my nephews were murdered, when my parents divorced and when I barely survived my sons birth along with my first miscarriage. Its all strength in the beginning, maybe I am just too raw to feel anything as I feel nothing yet other then I am okay, I am alive.
On Monday my sweet and dear friend Petronela came by to see me. It was hard to invite her into my raw moment where I was just a blank of emotions and actions, but God stirred my heart to be open even in this. She came so willingly with a beautiful bouquet of flowers and my favourite chocolate. As we talked I went to the bathroom every so often to pass huge blood clots and change my pads along with my clothing several times. During her stay my bleeding got to the point where an ER visit was inevitable. I am so thankful that she was there to be with my son. She came at just the right time to help in a huge way and I am so so thankful.
As we grabbed a few things for the hospital it started to storm outside, the lighting and thunder were rolling in. I was so uncomfortable leaving my son at home, but I knew Petronela was the best person to be with him as my son sees her as an older sister or a favourite aunt and they are close. During the process of being seen Petronela texted me that Augustin requested to pray for me, which melted my heart and spiked my fears. After a traumatic birth I am still working through the fear of death, fear of hospitals and anything surgery related. I knew something was wrong and I needed to go to ER, but I wasn't sure if I was over reacting because this was day two of intense bleeding. When we got there I was surprised to see how many people were there in front of me, but I cut through the line and was seen within 10 minutes which confirmed to me the seriousness of my condition. I'm sure the people in line were upset because I looked healthy on the outside. How could they know I was bleeding to death at this point with period underwear and a maternity pad to catch my blood loss.
Honestly, I was scared and I was surprised to learn that I would be staying the night with a surgery only 6 hours away. I packed nothing. The doctor who performed my surgery (a D&C) again confirmed that coming in was my only option for life. It wasn't life and death yet, but it would have been if I stayed home. After the examination of the severity of the miscarriage I had to say goodbye to my husband who went home and headed to my own room in a Slovak hospital. At this point the storm was at its peak slamming any open windows in the hospital shut and thunder rolling so loud that made my skin crawl. Out of all the days it had to storm the night I am admitted to a hospital with my husband and son at home. What if something went wrong? Isn't this how sad movies start where a child losses their mother? Oh the thoughts that were running through my mind where not good.
I called my parents in America to inform them of the situation that had unfolded within the last 24 hours. Then I fulfilled my promise to my husband inviting Jesus into all of this messy business I was in. After that the doctors came in and said my surgery (which to me sounded so so much scarier then it was) was schedule for 1am. I had about 3 hours to wait and forced myself to get an hours rest knowing that my mental health depended on that rest. After my rest I prayed the life prayer my John Eldredge which brought me so much peace as my heart beat wildly in my chest. I was nervous! I was scared, but if something went wrong...
It was 1am and time for my surgery. I am not going to lie I was so scared and the nurses saw it. The last surgery I got almost took my life so this was tough, oh and that stormed still screamed around us. On the operating table I was shocked to find that they strapped me to the surgery table like a loony, feet and arms stretched. I am thankful that the anaesthesia kicked in quickly and the next thing I remember is being in my room them telling me the surgery was a success. I wanted to call my husband the let him know, but the nurse laughed and said I'm still under anaesthesia. I did call, but 30 min later after the anaesthesia wore off.
Anyway, all was well in the end despite a sleepless night for my heart was still racing and fear still rushing through my body. The effects of anaesthesia area funny thing as you don't think clearly for a long while. The surgery did what it was supposed to do, flush my body of the pregnancy and stop the bleeding. I survived and I am so thankful it wasn't like a scene from a horrible movie which to this day I can't watch because it's so real to me. Now I am home now still resting a bit and slowly working through the emotions, heartache and the questions this whole experience stirs up in me. So that's my story of miscarriage number two. I pray in Jesus' name that there won't be a number three, but we never know do we?
God gave us a promise of more kids, but I have to work through the emotions of maybe not wanting more after this experience. I am human and can handle only so much grief and waiting. I still don't know and will have some months of seeking God and His direction for my life. I also don't want to miss my blessing due to the fear of being hurt. That's my story, there are my thoughts and I'll end it there for now.
If I am not okay emotionally in a year or cry when I see a baby or someone announces a pregnancy please know that it's because I can finally process the feelings that trauma locks in my heart. I can't feel it until later when people assume I should be past it or I am too sensitive. The only people who know this pain are the ones who have gone through it and no one else can say anything about it.