Monday, October 4, 2010

Here's to new beginnings

This blog has always been about our life, including our adventures with family and friends, our ever-evolving house projects, and our personal trials and triumphs. The purpose has been to keep our family and some of our closest friends updated through pictures and words on our life in Ohio.

It wouldn’t make sense or feel right for me to skip over or just omit what has been happening in our life for the past seven days. So, even though it is uncomfortable and sad, Tim and I wanted to share this experience here.

Last Tuesday when we experienced our second miscarriage, words can’t begin to describe the devastation we felt when we knew the inevitable, but unthinkable, was happening to us again. It was like tumbling down a muddy, slippery slope and it just gets messier as you keep sliding down to the bottom.

Clinically, I don’t think doctors would say we lost a “baby.” They might say we lost a fetus or use some other medical terminology. Even to us, it was not a real baby. In fact, all we saw was a blob on a fuzzy black and white ultrasound screen. But it was a blob with a beating heart and it was ours; fully created by me and Tim. It didn’t have a face or a name. We never saw fingers or toes. But it had a heartbeat. It was impossible to deny the existence of a God when we saw that flickering light.

That “blob” held the promise for us of an exciting future, one where the three of us would be our own little family and we began planning out the adventures the three of us would have together. Tim and I felt a surge of victory and optimism. We had overcome all these challenges and obstacles to get here and had come to this point completely on our own—with no medical or pharmaceutical intervention as my doctor indicated I would need. God must have had a hand in this, right?

As each week went on with no signs of abnormalities, our confidence grew. We initially we cautious because of our first experience, but now everything just felt so certain, so destined to be.

Ten weeks is an eye-blink in the scheme of life. But ten weeks for us was 70 days of dreaming and planning on what our new life would be like and 70 days of preparing for this little person we knew nothing about. When we took our evening walks with the dogs, our conversations were always about preparing for our new reality and how exciting all of these changes and experiences would be. We both agreed life couldn’t get more perfect than this.

In less than 24 hours, everything changed. Our life went from one of limitless possibilities to one where we had a thousand questions with no answers to be found. As I lay in bed last week realizing it was all over, I kept thinking, “Could we be happy if life wasn’t how we pictured it?”

A week later, we’re on a new journey and a new path to healing and recovery. We are on a quest to find answers to these questions. I think we can be happy again – we are so infinitely blessed. We have two amazing dogs, our very own house, two great jobs, an incredible family, and we have each other.

We know that our journey to become parents may not happen in the way we expected or in the time we expected it to, but we do know that as long as we have each other, there isn’t much we can’t overcome. We’ve truly been stretched to our limits, our faith has been shaken, and our marriage has been put to the test. We’ve got a long way to go still, but there is no doubt that we can get through this side by side, hand in hand.

And I know that all of you already know what an incredible man Tim is, just like I knew from the first moment I met him, so I’m not sharing anything new. But this week I realized what an incredibly, incredibly lucky girl I am to have met someone who loves me in spite of everything, who will still spoon me and hold my hand while I fall asleep, who will wipe tears and snot off my face, who will take off work just so I don’t have to be alone, who will let me sad whenever I want to, who will let me entertain the idea of buying really expensive boots just because I think they will make me feel better, and stills thinks I’m 100% beautiful even when I’m at my worst- puffy-faced and crumpled hair.

He’s the best. I wish every girl could be as lucky as I am.

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