Ten months ago Mae and I suffered the hell that is miscarriage. We lost our little Declan (Man of Prayer).
Our journey began almost three years ago. We decided it was time to begin trying to start a family. After a year in and nothing it was recommended that we begin seeing a fertility specialist. We did, and low and behold, after months of diagnostics, we went through the process of IUI and Mae became pregnant. We learned this about a year ago this month. We were ecstatic. We spent January and February telling family and friends. We began to putting together wish lists. We were getting ready to welcome our little one. It was a beautiful time.
Then in mid-March a curtain was drawn. Darkness filled out life. Mae began cramping and on March 19 we went to the hospital and were confronted with the fact that she was going to have to have a D&C. We left the hospital childless. Broken. Mourning. The joy we had experienced the months before were gone. Despair replaced it.
I let the loss process. I tried to move on. I looked at life as a continuum, and though we were in the valley we could, one day, begin to climb out. But that would not happen easily.
We continued to visit the clinic and were met with failure around the bend. Insurance was not covering any of this, so we burned through our savings; we begged and borrowed from friends and family; we took out a loan…not a damned thing. Bullshit. Nadda. We were taunted by hope, only to be turned down. Then comes November of this year.
Mae heard about a drug that is prescribed for people with PCOS. It is something that should have been prescribed when she was first diagnosed, but because it was diagnosed by a fertility clinic they were more interested in trying to get us pregnant than regulate the problem. Not that I blame them; that is what they do, but it would have been nice to know about this drug before…it could have solved a lot of issues.
Mae began the drug and on Dec. 22 of 2009 she approached me with a pee stick that had two lines on it…a positive! After a month on the drug she became pregnant…we did it on our own! Giddily we visited our families for Christmas, but we did not tell them, as it was way too soon. Mae had an OB/Gyn appointment scheduled for the first week of January 2010. We went and saw the ultrasound of a healthy baby. 6 weeks and 3 days old. We went home and told family and a few friends. Elated. Nervous. We had bee down this road before, and did not want to tell too many too soon.
Joy had returned. We had finally named our lost child, Declan, and were looking forward to welcoming his baby sibling to the world. Mae had dreams that the baby in her was a girl.
A week or so ago Mae began to have an odd sensation in her gut. Like she had done too many sit ups. Not cramping, and in talking to others who had been pregnant we were told this was normal. However; having suffered the loss of Declan, we decided to play it safe and make a Dr. appt.
We got to the Dr’s. office and when she was told why we were there she said that that was normal, but since were were there she would give Mae a check up. She pulled out the ultrasound wand and began to look at the screen. We was looking at it intently…saying nothing….moving the wand aound…punching buttons…finally…”I’m sorry. I don’t see much growth and I can’t find a heart beat.”
Silence…Sucker Punch right in the gut.
She told us all the stuff that one says…not our fault…yadda yadda. She is sending us to a high-risk specialist to help us figure out why we lost this baby. I don’t remember much. We held it together until the door closed…and then…
On top of the heartbreaking news of loosing your child, the next worse thing is seeing your lovers heartbreak right in front of you. My heart is broken, but it had to see the utter grief in Mae just killed me. I love this woman more than anything in the world, and to see her go through this again is heart crushing. For both of us we mourn.
In the dreams that Mae had about our baby girl she heard the name Sophie…Sophia…Wisdom.
We name her Sophie.
All I can do now is pray that she and her brother are at peace.
All I can do now is follow the model of the Man of Pray and Wisdom, and keep my prayers going, even though I think God is playing some sort of cruel joke on us. My faith is telling me there is more, but damn it…where the hell is it? I don’t know…but I, for the memory of my two lost babies, will keep being a Man of Prayer and a seeker of Wisdom. Maybe, one day, I will get over this, but for now I am pissed off that we can have such joy; only to have it taken from us in such a cruel way.
My love is with my wife. I will hold on to you forever! I will not allow the shit storm to overtake us. I hold my hand out to you, my love. We will walk through this together, there has to be a light somewhere and we will find it…for the time being, though, we will stumble through the darkness together.
I love you, Mae. I love you Declan. I love you Sophie. Help us to find the light.
We will try again. Hopefully one day, we will hold your brother or sister in our arms, and tell them that they have a brother and sister watching over them.