Unexpected Loss
WARNING: The following blog contains topics of traumatic experiences.
The morning of Lucas’ 35th birthday, he walked into our bathroom to find a positive pregnancy test lying on the counter. We weren’t planning on having our third child quite yet, but the unexpected timing of it all felt like a gift straight from God. We had just received Teresa’s cancer diagnosis the month before and the haze of shock had silenced most aspects of joy our life had to offer at that time.
I’m sure he said many things as he acknowledged the two pink lines, but the only thing I remember him actually saying was “Mom is going to be so excited.” Teresa loved her grandkids and adding another one seemed like the exact thing our entire family needed as we learned to navigate the complexities of cancer. That particular season was filled with tests, appointments, calls, google searches, hospital stays and even more waiting; so we made the decision to keep the news between ourselves until our scheduled 10-week appointment.
The night before our appointment I was so nervous I didn’t sleep. I secretly believed there was a chance that I was further along than ten weeks, and I couldn’t help but think we were very likely only six months away from holding our bundle of guaranteed bliss in our arms. As the events of the day transpired, I distinctly remember thinking to myself that I wish I had gotten more sleep; the faint laughter of our nurse practitioner faded into utter silence when the room ultimately awaited the arrival of an unknown doctor. The woman performed a third ultrasound, studied the screen, and said, “There is no heartbeat.” Thousands of thoughts began to collide in my mind, as I was simultaneously grateful that we had yet to expose our family to another disappointment and overwhelmingly lonely by the reality that no one was there to catch us in this fall.
For the next 30 hours we prayed for a heartbeat. We were told our chances were slim, but we held onto hope until my body decided it could no longer wait and my pregnancy came to an end. The same exact place we shared the excitement of an unexpected life would now become the place we would grieve the unexpected loss of a life unlived.
The day was April 2, 2021 and it just so happened to be Good Friday. I spent the day lying on the floor in pain as I began the journey of what would become my last moments with this part of us. My body hurt but my heart hurt more. My emotions were everywhere but all I could do was cry. I hated Satan for stealing such a beautiful gift from the earth too soon and I pleaded with God to make it right. Then in the middle of the roller coaster, I felt God’s presence just enough to hear the words “I know how you feel, I had a child taken from me on this day too.” And while I knew there was no way to cease the pain and disappointment of it all; it was in that moment that I found the peace to endure the process this broken life on earth had handed us, and I trusted it would not be in vain.