an uncomfortable day

A potentially uncomfortable Flashback Friday

Well, this post might be a little uncomfortable for some.  I apologize in advance.  You don't have to keep reading, I won't be offended (nor will I know).  Now I know everyone is different and everyone handles situations differently as they happen to them.  But for me, I've realized talking or in this case typing about my situation is helping me to "handle" it more.  

Today is October 24, 2008.  I should have had a baby two years ago, today.  But at 11 weeks and 4 days I had a doctor's appointment.  And he couldn't find the baby's heartbeat.  The doctor performed a DNC and just like that, I no longer had my baby.  Other than feeling groggy from being put under, I didn't feel physically different.  I still felt pregnant.  I hoped that I would still be miraculously pregnant.  As a matter of fact I felt that way for another nine weeks, since it took that long for my period to start.  I am normally an emotionally deprived person.  I just have a hard time crying.  I had no idea what to do with this range of emotions that came from within  me.  I just cried, and cried, and cried.  No, actually it's not crying... it's weeping.  I wept, and wept, and wept.  And two years later, it still just slaps me upside the face while I'm doing the most random thing.  I can be getting a glass of water while talking to Wayne about the sky being blue, and tears will just start running down my face.  And he doesn't have to ask.  He knows what is happening.  And in like five minutes, it's over.  

Anger... another foreign concept to me.  I just never get mad.  But after a couple of months, something inside me was raging.  You could be talking to me about how wonderful Mother Theresa was, but in my head I was telling you off with words that would have made a sailor blush.  I didn't show it on the outside at all.  Even Wayne didn't know unless the words "I'm just so angry!!" came out of my mouth.  It wasn't until the words of my friend pierced my heart that I knew I needed help.  We hadn't seen each other in three years.  "Karyn, something's different. There's no longer a sparkle in your eyes".  The next week Wayne and I met with a pastor and his wife.  And that was the last day I felt any anger.  I don't know if the sparkle is back or not, but the rage is gone.  

It wasn't until the miscarriage that I realized just how common it is to have one.  I had no idea that so many women had one or several.  I have many friends who have had multiple miscarriages and quite honestly, I don't know how they do it.  (okay, I really know.  I know it's God's grace!)  I'm just saying.  I just didn't know.  What we did know was that she was not a statistic.  And she wasn't going to be baby #2.  Names are really important to us.  So we gave her a name that would give us hope.

I've never felt the need to ask God why or why us.  Who am I to ask that?  I know she's in a better place, and yada, yada, yada.  But I just wonder about her.  Who would she have looked like?  What would her voice sound like?  How would having her in our family have changed us? And how has not having her in our family changed us?  I just wonder...

I miss her.  I miss my Hope.

Above:  when we thought we had our family planned.  

Below:  would she look like this?