And then, we were struck by Irony.
Hubs and I have been getting wonderfully joyful and excited for the little Sprout growing in my belly. We’ve been praying for peace and we found it, as much as I think it can be found in times of financial stress. We told our families and my best friend. I was extremely excited to go through pregnancy just six weeks behind my wonderful older sister.
But on Sunday, I began to bleed. Just small amounts of blood. I tried not to worry very much. But then Monday morning, the bleeding continued, and my mucus took a huge turn. It went from being 2AD, everyday, to a huge amount of 10CK. That was alarming, as that can indicate possible miscarriage. As the day progressed, other symptoms began slipping away, and I slowly began to feel less and less pregnant. I know it is a black and white kind of thing, but it felt like I was slipping into it. Like this wonderful joy was slowly and painfully being pulled from my body, like some sort of punishment. Punishment for not being ready. Punishment for feeling terrified and unqualified at the beginning.
Since Monday, the docs have been doing blood tests and today I had an ultrasound. Things are inconclusive. It looks like everything is in place and how it should be… except for the fetus. They couldn’t “find” that. This could go two ways. Either, A.) I am too early, and the fetus is too small to show up. or B.) I am in the process of miscarrying. We’re praying very very hard for option A.
I won’t know for sure until Thursday night. It is going to be a long next two days. It’s funny though, because at this point, I feel like God really knows what He is doing. There is nothing like the threat of loss to kick you in the pants and make you realize how much you want something, right?