Navigating the Unexpected – Part 2

The weeks settle down and I think very little of it when I bleed a fortnight later, reassured that my body is settling down. The follow-up from the clinic is to carry out one final pregnancy test, having allowed sufficient time for everything to have returned to normal.  This seems very straight-forward.

The week of Pee Stick Day falls in the same week as I turn 35, and for some strange reason I decide to do the test on my birthday.  I wake feeling rather un-birthday-like anyway as my husband has to leave for a two-day work trip away before it’s even light, so cards and presents and celebrations aren’t high on my agenda. But when the pregnancy test is still positive I am a bit bemused. Perhaps things haven’t settled down as much as I had thought…..?

I call the clinic and to my surprise the nurse questions me over the telephone about unprotected sex. I think back over the last few weeks…..the struggle to return life to normal…..the lack of any kind of libido…..the long periods of silence between us…..the yo-yoing conversations caught between faith and fear….the nights of sleep where our drained bodies seek refreshment to survive another day of just being ok.  Not much sex being had I stutter in my embarrassment down the ‘phone line…..The nurse says something about the possibility of a new pregnancy and I ponder the heavy swell of my chest despite the bleeding but cannot believe that this could be the reason…..Time alone will tell.

Twenty-four hours later I am sat alone in a side room of the Early Pregnancy Assement Unit with the results of a scan and blood test before me. No evidence of the previous miscarriage. No evidence of a developing pregnancy. Instead, there are tell-tale signs and symptoms of a very early, very new pregnancy, conceived naturally since our last miscarriage.  Tears and words of confusion stumble out of my mouth in the nurse’s direction. I don’t understand. I have to return 48 hours later for another blood test to see which way the pregnancy hormone level swings. Hopefully it will be good news. I call my husband who is somewhere on a building site in south Wales to explain. This is all so surreal!

They are a long 48 hours and we start to wonder…..

Conceived naturally………after forty-seven months of trying for a baby and failing, we have conceived naturally!!??

Perhaps this is a gift from God, a redeeming of the last few weeks of disappointment? Perhaps this is why He encouraged us to stay so focused on hope after our recent loss?

What kind of parent do I want to be? What kind of future am I choosing to pray over this child? What identity and inheritance am I going to call in for this tiny new bundle of hope fighting to make its way into being in my womb?

We allow hope to rise this time. We put our hands on my tummy and speak life over this little surprise. It’s a new year, a new situation, a new pregnancy. This time perhaps the miracle will come.

But when those 48 hours conclude and I call the clinic for the next set of results, I am shocked to hear the words “sub-optimal fall”, “possible ectopic pregnancy” and “methotrexate” uttered.  We have to wait another 48 hours for another blood test result. I go to work as normal but find I cannot concentrate. I excuse myself to the bathroom and sit and sob in my fear and confusion.

What is going on? What is coming next? I cannot see. I cannot see. And I’m so very, very frightened. What is the point of praying now? God doesn’t seem to want to answer my prayers. Why ask for something else, for a redeeming of the situation or a normal miscarriage when it doesn’t make a blind bit of difference what I request?

Where are you in this, God? What are you doing to us?

At last we hear and it’s not what we had hoped. This new pregnancy has also failed before it had got going. It’s a double agony. We had barely grieved the first loss and here we are with a second on our hearts. Yes, it was early days. Yes, there wasn’t even a heartbeat yet, but still the reach for new life has been cut short again.

We leave half-relieved that my body is at least disposing of this new miscarriage by itself but too shocked to compute the rest.

Where are you in this, God? What are you doing to us?


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