It has begun...

I wake up each morning worried that I started bleeding while asleep, that somehow I have started miscarrying...and each morning, nothing.  Today is a week since my HCG's started dropping and the lack of, shall I say 'progression' makes me have a glimmer of hope.

Allow me to backtrack. Almost three weeks ago, I took yet another pregnancy test.  The line was so faint that I wasn't sure whether I was seeing things or not.  A blood test confirmed that we were indeed pregnant with and HCG of 14.  Initially, the number seemed low, but I realized that I was testing two days early. Over the next week, my numbers doubled, then tripled, then quadrupled.  We were thrilled, but there was that nagging feeling, that worry that things weren't going as well as they seemed.  You see, since the moment we tested, I had started spotting - some days slightly, some days a bit more. My doctor kept assuring me that this is normal. We tested my progesterone and it was fairly low, so we increased the progesterone suppositories twice, then finally moved to progesterone oil injections.  I was scared, as I had always heard how painful they were, but after gleening some tricks online, it turned out that they were painless - I would ice my buttock area while Freddie would run the syringe under hot water to dissolve the oil a little bit prior to injecting me.

On Thursday of last week, the spotting stopped. I was elated. I had been praying daily at naptime -I had pages and pages of prayers printed out to St. Catharine of Siena, St. Gerard Majella, St.Raymond Nonatus and of course our Mother, Mary.  I begged, I pleaded, I asked all our babies to stand before the throne of our Lord and beg for Him to intercede on our behalf and to allow this child to LIVE!  But later that day, the doctor's office called that my hcg levels dropped.  They thought that perhaps, since I had 5 follicles ready at ovulation time, that maybe we were dealing with a vanishing twin - this news was difficult. I hated the thought that one child had passed, but it gave me hope that perhaps this pregnancy wasn't over.  Just thinking that we might have a child whose twin didn't make it brought me to tears...but within another two days it was clear that the HCG was continuing to drop.  It was obvious that this baby would join his/her sibling in heaven.  It does bring me comfort that this child will not be alone, but that rather this baby will be surrounded by siblings - but it also reminds me that Sophie's siblings are not here and that she is still alone.  Then I started waiting - waiting for the miscarriage to start, and this morning the spotting started, then stopped.  Again, a glimmer of hope ignited in my heart, but it was quickly quashed when the HCG numbers revealed a continuing decline.

All week, I know I've been in denial.  I've been pushing off the emotions, not dealing with them. This morning, I broke down.  Now that 'it' has started, the loss is real.  I don't understand any of this - I've been a 'good girl' all my life, I never did drugs, I never smoked, I never drank, I didn't have sex till after marriage, I took care of my elders, I supported my family...I did all the 'right' things - my only crime is getting married in my 30's.  I know its common to lose a baby, but NINE???  How much more can my heart take?  After Asia, we had decided that we would only do this for a few more months and now as our deadline approaches, I truly fear that we may not be successful in having another child.  It's hard for me to even write that...we may fail.  I keep wanting to try because I know how happy and excited we are each time we learn of a new pregnancy, but I also know that Freddie is ready to quit as his heart can't take more pain and it kills him to see me go through this time after time after time.

We talk about all our babies and read "Someone came before you" and "We had an angel instead" at bedtime.  Sophie gets sad that her siblings aren't here, she says she misses them and they miss her. Last month, Sophie kept asking if Asia would come to her birthday party and each time I cried as I had to answer that we would love for her to come and that Asia would love to come, but she's in Heaven.  Sophie seems to think that her siblings live in another home nearby and that if only we tried hard enough, we could go see them -oh, how I wish that were true!

It took me over 6 months to get back to God after Asia's death. I wasn't mad at Him, I didn't think it was His fault - I just didn't feel heard. I had prayed, I had begged, I had cried out to Him asking for healing, asking for her to take a breath, but she didn't.  I know He was there for me, but I wasn't ready to talk.  Now, as our relationship is still 'new', another loss. I'd be lying if I said I wasn't struggling.  I know God can do anything and I know God could grant this child life - so why not?  Is it a case that evil has caused the loss of our baby, or maybe a simple genetic mismatch on our human part? But in either case, God can heal that, right?  So is He choosing not to intervene? I know that this world is temporary and that our aim is eternal life with Him, so perhaps I should be grateful that my children are spared the pains of this world  - but my religion also doesn't assure me that my children get to Heaven - but I hope they do.  I read something today that said something along the lines that my pain allows my children to advance to eternal life - maybe that makes the pain worth it?  But I'm still left with the fact that Sophie is still alone in this world - like I was, an only child.  I worry what this will mean for her growing up, knowing that all her siblings perished - will she feel pressured to succeed? To make us proud? To live for all of them?

I'm just tired of adding to our memorial wall.  I'm tired of carrying all these little souls in my heart, never speaking their names in public.  I'm tired of grieving in silence, when the house is quiet and everyone is sleeping. I'm tired of expecting each pregnancy to end exactly this way, in another loss.  I'm tired of feeling like a pessimist...I'm just tired.  So tonight, as I sit here writing at 3am, I'm starting to miscarry our 10th child [our 9th loss].  I have a heavy heart and empty arms.  All I have to show, to prove that this little one was here is a backside sore from injections [its actually very tender now and itchy!] and a case of needles upstairs with the remainder of progesterone oil - there is no ultrasound this time, no tangible proof, just a few photos where we are the only ones who know that I am pregnant at the time.  We still need to name this child, but nothing seems to be appropriate, nothing seems to 'fit'.  Nothing about any of this seems to 'fit'...it's like an out of body experience, a bad movie that I'm watching, because this CAN'T be happening to us!!