It's Only Goodbye for Now

It's 1:30 am.

I can't sleep.

Or stop crying.

We lost our little baby.

Our little Isabelle...or Benjamin.

I think she was an Isabelle.

Whenever I thought of her, or dreamed of her, it was always a girl. Always. And I've always been scared to have a girl, always wanted boys more. So these strong feelings of a girl? Well, I think she was a girl.

We already had the names picked out.

Isabelle Rose or Benjamin Thomas. 

I was already stocking up on clearanced-out maternity clothes.

And cocoa butter to prevent stretch marks.

And my Bebands.

My momma was always going nuts on buying things.

We had little shoes.

A book called, "I Love You More" to read to her.

My mom got me this adorable picture frame that said:

"Before you were conceived, I wanted you.

Before you were born, I loved you.

Before you were here an hour, I would give my life for you."

It's crazy how much I have fallen in love with my baby before she was even here. We never got to hear her heartbeat. At nine weeks, she would have been about one inch long, the size of an olive. She was already moving her little stubs of arms and legs.

It started yesterday.

The spotting.

I convinced myself it was nothing.

Some women spot during pregnancy - totally normal.

My mother did it.

And it wasn't the bright scary red they tell you about.

I shook it off.

I was scheduled to have my 10 week appointment next week, so I'd mention it to my doctor then, but wasn't going to stress about it.

But it got progressively worse.

And the cramps started coming.

Very subtle, but there.

And tonight, it became that bright scary red.

I have never been so incredibly grateful to be living with my in-laws.

Thomas has night class, so I would have been home alone.

In tears, I went upstairs, told my mum-in-law what was happening, and off we were to the emergency room.

I sent a text to Thomas and my parents, and got checked in.

Lots of tests.

Blood. Urine. Pelvic. Ultrasound.

My mom arrived while I was off at my ultrasound.

At first I liked the ultrasound.

I could see the baby. Plain as day.

There was the big black circle of fluid, and then there she was.

My little gray peanut.

I watched as the nurse measured her. 

I felt good. Happy to see her for the first time.

I almost forgot why I was there in the first place.

While we waited in the room for the results of everything, me and my two moms, Thomas arrived. We waited for what seemed like an hour...though it was only about 20 minutes.

When the doctor came in, she just blurted it out:

"I have bad news."
She hadn't even shut the door behind her yet...

There's no words, absolutely NO words to describe it.

I lost it. It was the ugly, uncontrollable crying.

And of course, the first thought: "Why? This isn't fair."

I am such a firm believer in everything happens for a reason.

Heavenly Father has a plan for each of us.

And I'm trying so hard to not be angry.

To not try and figure out that plan, because I just don't see it right now.

I spent so much of time daydreaming about her.

The nine months of growing her in my belly, watching it get big and smooth.

Holding her for the first time in the hospital.

Nursing her.

Covering her in kisses.

She was already so real to me.

I'm trying to stay positive.

I keep reading different scriptures. 

Keep telling myself it's not my fault.

Keep trying to see that silver lining...even though it's pretty faded right now...

It helps knowing I'll see her again.

Some day, I will be with my sweet little peanut again.
Some day.