The day had finally come. The week up until this point had been long--filled with tears and dark nights of emotional pain.
Erwin and I took the kids and we loaded up suitcases full of our things and headed to my parents house. They offered to watch the kids all day and then to take care of them/us until I felt better after surgery.
My OB and surgeon had coordinated to have one procedure done after the other. Everyone thought this was such a good idea bc it meant that I didn't need to go under anesthesia two different times and to just get the gallbladder issue done with. I agreed with them. But it felt like a I was stuck in the middle of a two way street, and I wasn't sure in which direction to focus on. One minute I was overcome with grief with the procedure of my baby being removed. And then the next with anxiety as I realized I was also having major surgery to have an organ removed. I felt all over the place, when all I really wanted to do was grieve and have that time to appropriately mourn.
We got to the hospital at 9:00 in the morning. I was a bundle of nerves and very emotional. After checking in and getting into my gown and into a private room, Erwin and I sat and chatted nervously until the nurse came.
First a young guy came in to draw blood. Just like last time. He was very upbeat and friendly and seemed extremely nice. Like...way too nice. But I didn't care. Then another girl came in. She was a middle aged Latina woman with a nice accent. She was kind as well, but obviously very unaware as she looked at my file and said to me: "You are pregnant! And past first trimester. How wonderful." I was unprepared for how I would react. Uh.... What? How did she not know? Does it not say why I am here?! I choked back the tears and told her as my voice cracked that I had miscarried and was here for a D&C as well. (baby removal) Things got awkward and uncomfortable for me from there on out. "Oh! I'm so sorry! I didn't realize. Oh goodness, I am sorry." she exclaimed. The young guy from before was still in the room. He said something to the point that he knew that I had miscarried and then that made it even more weird bc then the nurse felt bad that she didn't know and he did. It all made sense why he was so overly nice to me. My eyes filled with tears.
She needed to get me hooked up to an IV. She had to use a different area than the one the first guy used. And man...she was awful at it. She tried my other arm. No luck. Then she tried my wrist area. Um...that was incredibly painful. That didn't work either. She then tried my hand. I thought I was going to scream. It all hurt so freakin' bad. She was flustered that she couldn't get it right and said "Oh, you hate me! You are always going to remember me for how I tortured you!" Well, she got part of that right. She left the room to go get a nurse who had been working 20 years and was known for how amazing she was with finding veins. All I could think of was....why didn't they get her the first time around? Ugh! She was a grumpy older lady, but she took my other hand and as I screamed internally through the pain, she found a vein and made it work. Finally.
I can't remember exactly when, but as I was waiting to go to surgery, the Latina nurse came back and fiddled with more things. She brought up again about my miscarriage and started telling me she had miscarried once and then saying things to me like "It will all work out. It will be ok. It's all for a reason." And I wasn't bugged. But my heart felt like it was becoming more and more overwhelmed with her non stop talking to me about it. She then asked if we were LDS and if I got a blessing. Which lead to her telling me how sorry again she was, which then in turn lead me to a breaking point. I burst into tears. She leaned down to hug me and held me for a while and then babbled some more things. I couldn't tell what I was feeling. But I didn't want to talk anymore.
Eventually a different nurse came. She was very young. She took my bag of things and put them into a locker. She then told me it was time to go upstairs and to have Erwin follow us. I got all weepy again and my heart started to race. We got onto an elevator and went up a few floors. They wheeled me out and told Erwin and me to say goodbye. He kissed me and told me he loved me and that he would see me soon. "You too, honey. Love you." I took a deep breath and tried to be brave as I watched him walk away to the waiting room. The nurse then took me through huge double doors into a very plain and white hallway that was extremely cold. Thank goodness for warming blankets.
She then pushed me up against a wall and told me to wait there until my surgeons came to speak with me. It was a long and lonely wait. I fiddled with my blankets and tissues while nurses, Dr's and janitors would walk past me from time to time. We would exchange awkward smiles and I was just sitting there alone. I didn't see any other patients at all. And it was weird and sad and made me feel anxious.
After a while, I started praying. I started asking for peace and assurance the Lord was with me. I felt scared and incredibly sad. Then, I realized that I was going to be saying goodbye to my unborn baby forever. In just a few moments he would be gone from my body, and then the start of mourning and loss would begin all over again, but differently. So I started talking to my baby. It felt right. I sat there in the cold, white hallway and silently cried. As the tears fell, I let him know that I loved him and would be anxiously waiting to see him again. I let him know that he was important, and special and that even though I felt broken, that I would do my best to be happy all while remembering him. I told him once more how much my heart loved every little part of him, and then whispered my goodbyes. It felt good. And I felt overcome with grief, but also such love.
Eventually, the anesthesiologist came and talked to me. After Clara's birth, I have kind of hated the thought of ever seeing another anesthesiologist ever again, but this man was amazing. He was middle aged with a reddish beard and so, so, kind. Heavenly Father answered my prayers! He let me express my concerns and fears and never made me feel stupid. He took so much time to talk me through everything and offer comfort. I was so grateful.
Then came my surgeon. I hadn't seen him since he broke the news to me that I was pregnant. He gave me a sad smile, and told me how unfortunate it was that he was now seeing me again but now not pregnant. He told me he was sorry, but it felt rushed and uncomfortable and he then quickly went into talking to me about the gallbladder procedure. He was going to go first, and he reassured me that he was going to take good care of me. I was grateful he seemed nice, but more grateful he seemed confident that the surgery would go well.
Then my OB came. "Hi Sarah. How are you? Is your sweetie here with you?" She let me know she would go immediately after my gallbladder removal and that her portion would take about 35 minutes. She then reminded me that if I wanted testing to find out the reason baby passed or if I want to know the gender just in case she couldn't tell, that it was available for me. I said no to it all. It was hard to be talking to the woman who was going to invade my uterus and then remove my precious little baby. To know that she would see him and I wouldn't...made me cry all over again. But she was great and hugged me and let me know it would be ok and she would do everything as safe and quickly as possible.
A new nurse came and introduced herself. She would be in the room with me and monitoring me and making sure things went well with the Dr's. The time had come. She wheeled me into the operating room. It was overwhelming and felt super surreal.
It was freezing in there. There were tons of random nurses and assistants walking all over the room with masks on. There were huge lights hanging over the table that blinded my eyes. My OB appeared again out of no where and was the one getting me prepped and ready. She helped me get from my bed to the operating table and then position myself comfortably. It felt like a dream and I was so nervous. Then the nice anesthesiologist came and stood over me, smiling. I looked up at him nervously, and he said "Ok Sarah, I'm going to give you a little something in your IV that will help with your anxiety alright?" "Oh, um, ok." I whispered with a half smile. Then all of a sudden, the room faded and I was out like a light.
Before I knew it, I was waking up. Everything was fuzzy and I kept blinking to try to figure out where I was. It must have been some recovery room. I think there were more beds in there with other patients and a few nurses walking around. One nurse all of a sudden started asking me questions from across the room, so it sounded like she was shouting. I of course couldn't talk loudly back, so it was a little frustrating. In a blur, I somehow was being wheeled out of those giant double doors again and saw Erwin waiting for me by the elevator. It was so nice to see him and I felt calm.
The rest of my stay was long. I slept a ton. And then slept some more. A wonderful nurse named Brenda came and took care of me. She checked in on me, got me water, tapioca and pain killers. She helped me with my ice packs on my incisions and packed me a to-go home bag full of stuff. She was kind. She treated me with respect and didn't rush me at all. She let me cry when I was feeling pain--emotionally and physically. I was very grateful for her. I finally got up after hours and hours to try to use the restroom. It hurt so badly to walk. I was bleeding a lot from the D&C and I thought I was going to faint. My chest suddenly seized while standing and I started to cough. It was one of the most painful things I have ever felt. My insides felt like they were being ripped to shreds while being stabbed at the same time. I started to sob and gasp for breathes. The nurses were so nice and helped me back to my bed, all while telling me that it was so good for me to cough so I could get any gunk out. They showed me how hold my body to cough while having a little less pain. I then fell back asleep. After a few more hours, I stayed awake for longer periods of time and chatted with Erwin. I wanted to try to leave, and yet I didn't want to go home and just hid under the blankets.
Erwin gave me a blessing while we were waiting for me to feel better. It was so good to feel the Lord's love around me while he spoke. As Erwin and I chatted while I sipped cold water, I once more let the tears fall. It had happened. My baby was gone. Yes, I was in serious pain from the gallbladder removal, but my emotional pain is what felt all consuming. Erwin held my hand as I wept for the loss of my baby that was now official more than ever. Baby left me that day physically, and I started to feel a new stage of grief and loss. It made for a heavy heart and tired eyes. So I slept some more.
It was getting late. I finally got dressed. I could hear nursery rhyme music being played over the hospital speaker announcing another birth in their facility. Babies were being born on the day that my baby officially left me. I curled up into a ball and held my physical wounds while my emotional ones were feeling like massive paper cuts with salt being poured in them. It felt awful and like someone was toying with my loss. But Brenda spoke loving words to me as I found strength to stand up and be wheeled out to Erwin who brought the car around. I wanted to give her a big hug and tell her she was an answer to my prayers.
My road to recovery had officially started. Emotionally and physically. Since this day, I have cried more tears than I can count, said more prayers than ever before and felt the Savior lift me and carry me to His love and warmth. If I ever feel like I would collapse with sadness or frustration, I know the Lord will come to me and not only offered but given me light, hope, happiness and strength. I know I might cry today about this. I know I will cry 5 or 10 years from now about this. And that's ok. I never thought about something like this happening to me and I certainly had no idea how it would ever impact me. But I am not a stranger to trials, especially health ones. And in every single trial, every single time, my Savior has come to me and picked me up and carried me on my personal road of bumps and thorns.
On this journey, I have most certainly been blessed by family and friends. An email here, lots of texts, FB messages, lots of flowers, food, prayers and small tokens of love have been given on my behalf, as well as Erwin's. It means so much.
Erwin and I also had our very own private memorial for our baby--just the two of us. I won't go into details, but it was incredibly sad with many tears shed on both our parts, but also uplifting and spiritual--a bonding moment and wonderful time to mourn but feel such hope and healing. We felt our broken hearts feeling full, and it was beautiful.
I am grateful for the gospel of Jesus Christ and the Atonement. I am eternally comforted that families are forever. I know that when my world crumbles around me, my foundation never waivers and that Christ is my rock. So here is to my life full of broken moments, but showered with love, and to my baby, whom I will see again in the presence of the Lord.
Erwin and I took the kids and we loaded up suitcases full of our things and headed to my parents house. They offered to watch the kids all day and then to take care of them/us until I felt better after surgery.
My OB and surgeon had coordinated to have one procedure done after the other. Everyone thought this was such a good idea bc it meant that I didn't need to go under anesthesia two different times and to just get the gallbladder issue done with. I agreed with them. But it felt like a I was stuck in the middle of a two way street, and I wasn't sure in which direction to focus on. One minute I was overcome with grief with the procedure of my baby being removed. And then the next with anxiety as I realized I was also having major surgery to have an organ removed. I felt all over the place, when all I really wanted to do was grieve and have that time to appropriately mourn.
We got to the hospital at 9:00 in the morning. I was a bundle of nerves and very emotional. After checking in and getting into my gown and into a private room, Erwin and I sat and chatted nervously until the nurse came.
First a young guy came in to draw blood. Just like last time. He was very upbeat and friendly and seemed extremely nice. Like...way too nice. But I didn't care. Then another girl came in. She was a middle aged Latina woman with a nice accent. She was kind as well, but obviously very unaware as she looked at my file and said to me: "You are pregnant! And past first trimester. How wonderful." I was unprepared for how I would react. Uh.... What? How did she not know? Does it not say why I am here?! I choked back the tears and told her as my voice cracked that I had miscarried and was here for a D&C as well. (baby removal) Things got awkward and uncomfortable for me from there on out. "Oh! I'm so sorry! I didn't realize. Oh goodness, I am sorry." she exclaimed. The young guy from before was still in the room. He said something to the point that he knew that I had miscarried and then that made it even more weird bc then the nurse felt bad that she didn't know and he did. It all made sense why he was so overly nice to me. My eyes filled with tears.
She needed to get me hooked up to an IV. She had to use a different area than the one the first guy used. And man...she was awful at it. She tried my other arm. No luck. Then she tried my wrist area. Um...that was incredibly painful. That didn't work either. She then tried my hand. I thought I was going to scream. It all hurt so freakin' bad. She was flustered that she couldn't get it right and said "Oh, you hate me! You are always going to remember me for how I tortured you!" Well, she got part of that right. She left the room to go get a nurse who had been working 20 years and was known for how amazing she was with finding veins. All I could think of was....why didn't they get her the first time around? Ugh! She was a grumpy older lady, but she took my other hand and as I screamed internally through the pain, she found a vein and made it work. Finally.
I can't remember exactly when, but as I was waiting to go to surgery, the Latina nurse came back and fiddled with more things. She brought up again about my miscarriage and started telling me she had miscarried once and then saying things to me like "It will all work out. It will be ok. It's all for a reason." And I wasn't bugged. But my heart felt like it was becoming more and more overwhelmed with her non stop talking to me about it. She then asked if we were LDS and if I got a blessing. Which lead to her telling me how sorry again she was, which then in turn lead me to a breaking point. I burst into tears. She leaned down to hug me and held me for a while and then babbled some more things. I couldn't tell what I was feeling. But I didn't want to talk anymore.
Eventually a different nurse came. She was very young. She took my bag of things and put them into a locker. She then told me it was time to go upstairs and to have Erwin follow us. I got all weepy again and my heart started to race. We got onto an elevator and went up a few floors. They wheeled me out and told Erwin and me to say goodbye. He kissed me and told me he loved me and that he would see me soon. "You too, honey. Love you." I took a deep breath and tried to be brave as I watched him walk away to the waiting room. The nurse then took me through huge double doors into a very plain and white hallway that was extremely cold. Thank goodness for warming blankets.
She then pushed me up against a wall and told me to wait there until my surgeons came to speak with me. It was a long and lonely wait. I fiddled with my blankets and tissues while nurses, Dr's and janitors would walk past me from time to time. We would exchange awkward smiles and I was just sitting there alone. I didn't see any other patients at all. And it was weird and sad and made me feel anxious.
After a while, I started praying. I started asking for peace and assurance the Lord was with me. I felt scared and incredibly sad. Then, I realized that I was going to be saying goodbye to my unborn baby forever. In just a few moments he would be gone from my body, and then the start of mourning and loss would begin all over again, but differently. So I started talking to my baby. It felt right. I sat there in the cold, white hallway and silently cried. As the tears fell, I let him know that I loved him and would be anxiously waiting to see him again. I let him know that he was important, and special and that even though I felt broken, that I would do my best to be happy all while remembering him. I told him once more how much my heart loved every little part of him, and then whispered my goodbyes. It felt good. And I felt overcome with grief, but also such love.
Eventually, the anesthesiologist came and talked to me. After Clara's birth, I have kind of hated the thought of ever seeing another anesthesiologist ever again, but this man was amazing. He was middle aged with a reddish beard and so, so, kind. Heavenly Father answered my prayers! He let me express my concerns and fears and never made me feel stupid. He took so much time to talk me through everything and offer comfort. I was so grateful.
Then came my surgeon. I hadn't seen him since he broke the news to me that I was pregnant. He gave me a sad smile, and told me how unfortunate it was that he was now seeing me again but now not pregnant. He told me he was sorry, but it felt rushed and uncomfortable and he then quickly went into talking to me about the gallbladder procedure. He was going to go first, and he reassured me that he was going to take good care of me. I was grateful he seemed nice, but more grateful he seemed confident that the surgery would go well.
Then my OB came. "Hi Sarah. How are you? Is your sweetie here with you?" She let me know she would go immediately after my gallbladder removal and that her portion would take about 35 minutes. She then reminded me that if I wanted testing to find out the reason baby passed or if I want to know the gender just in case she couldn't tell, that it was available for me. I said no to it all. It was hard to be talking to the woman who was going to invade my uterus and then remove my precious little baby. To know that she would see him and I wouldn't...made me cry all over again. But she was great and hugged me and let me know it would be ok and she would do everything as safe and quickly as possible.
A new nurse came and introduced herself. She would be in the room with me and monitoring me and making sure things went well with the Dr's. The time had come. She wheeled me into the operating room. It was overwhelming and felt super surreal.
It was freezing in there. There were tons of random nurses and assistants walking all over the room with masks on. There were huge lights hanging over the table that blinded my eyes. My OB appeared again out of no where and was the one getting me prepped and ready. She helped me get from my bed to the operating table and then position myself comfortably. It felt like a dream and I was so nervous. Then the nice anesthesiologist came and stood over me, smiling. I looked up at him nervously, and he said "Ok Sarah, I'm going to give you a little something in your IV that will help with your anxiety alright?" "Oh, um, ok." I whispered with a half smile. Then all of a sudden, the room faded and I was out like a light.
Before I knew it, I was waking up. Everything was fuzzy and I kept blinking to try to figure out where I was. It must have been some recovery room. I think there were more beds in there with other patients and a few nurses walking around. One nurse all of a sudden started asking me questions from across the room, so it sounded like she was shouting. I of course couldn't talk loudly back, so it was a little frustrating. In a blur, I somehow was being wheeled out of those giant double doors again and saw Erwin waiting for me by the elevator. It was so nice to see him and I felt calm.
The rest of my stay was long. I slept a ton. And then slept some more. A wonderful nurse named Brenda came and took care of me. She checked in on me, got me water, tapioca and pain killers. She helped me with my ice packs on my incisions and packed me a to-go home bag full of stuff. She was kind. She treated me with respect and didn't rush me at all. She let me cry when I was feeling pain--emotionally and physically. I was very grateful for her. I finally got up after hours and hours to try to use the restroom. It hurt so badly to walk. I was bleeding a lot from the D&C and I thought I was going to faint. My chest suddenly seized while standing and I started to cough. It was one of the most painful things I have ever felt. My insides felt like they were being ripped to shreds while being stabbed at the same time. I started to sob and gasp for breathes. The nurses were so nice and helped me back to my bed, all while telling me that it was so good for me to cough so I could get any gunk out. They showed me how hold my body to cough while having a little less pain. I then fell back asleep. After a few more hours, I stayed awake for longer periods of time and chatted with Erwin. I wanted to try to leave, and yet I didn't want to go home and just hid under the blankets.
Erwin gave me a blessing while we were waiting for me to feel better. It was so good to feel the Lord's love around me while he spoke. As Erwin and I chatted while I sipped cold water, I once more let the tears fall. It had happened. My baby was gone. Yes, I was in serious pain from the gallbladder removal, but my emotional pain is what felt all consuming. Erwin held my hand as I wept for the loss of my baby that was now official more than ever. Baby left me that day physically, and I started to feel a new stage of grief and loss. It made for a heavy heart and tired eyes. So I slept some more.
It was getting late. I finally got dressed. I could hear nursery rhyme music being played over the hospital speaker announcing another birth in their facility. Babies were being born on the day that my baby officially left me. I curled up into a ball and held my physical wounds while my emotional ones were feeling like massive paper cuts with salt being poured in them. It felt awful and like someone was toying with my loss. But Brenda spoke loving words to me as I found strength to stand up and be wheeled out to Erwin who brought the car around. I wanted to give her a big hug and tell her she was an answer to my prayers.
My road to recovery had officially started. Emotionally and physically. Since this day, I have cried more tears than I can count, said more prayers than ever before and felt the Savior lift me and carry me to His love and warmth. If I ever feel like I would collapse with sadness or frustration, I know the Lord will come to me and not only offered but given me light, hope, happiness and strength. I know I might cry today about this. I know I will cry 5 or 10 years from now about this. And that's ok. I never thought about something like this happening to me and I certainly had no idea how it would ever impact me. But I am not a stranger to trials, especially health ones. And in every single trial, every single time, my Savior has come to me and picked me up and carried me on my personal road of bumps and thorns.
On this journey, I have most certainly been blessed by family and friends. An email here, lots of texts, FB messages, lots of flowers, food, prayers and small tokens of love have been given on my behalf, as well as Erwin's. It means so much.
Erwin and I also had our very own private memorial for our baby--just the two of us. I won't go into details, but it was incredibly sad with many tears shed on both our parts, but also uplifting and spiritual--a bonding moment and wonderful time to mourn but feel such hope and healing. We felt our broken hearts feeling full, and it was beautiful.
I am grateful for the gospel of Jesus Christ and the Atonement. I am eternally comforted that families are forever. I know that when my world crumbles around me, my foundation never waivers and that Christ is my rock. So here is to my life full of broken moments, but showered with love, and to my baby, whom I will see again in the presence of the Lord.
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We love you both. Love is the foundation of all service, and all blessings.