How Do I Even Begin to Tell Him?

For those of you who are just joining us, I am writing about my most recent miscarriage. Please read the post below, which will get you up to speed.

After many tears, many prayers, and many questions I knew it was time for me to call Justin. He was on his lunch break by now. Pastor Dave, Charlie and Nicole encouraged me to make the call at that time, as Justin would hate to know that I shouldered this burden without him all day if I had waited till he returned home from work that evening. They were right. But how do I even begin to tell him?

It wasn't a long conversation. I just remember saying "I'm sorry" over and over. Justin assured me I had nothing to be sorry about. I knew it took everything he had within him not to break down right then and there in the break room amongst his coworkers. He spoke with his boss who told him to "go home" and at that point, I made my way up to Ames and we met for lunch. We were able to discuss more of the details about the situation, including our plans to move forward with the D & C (necessary procedure for disposition of the baby), as recommended by our doctor. I was not comfortable with this procedure, but given the gestation and my history, it was basically our only option. We called Kate, our wonderful nurse practitioner, and made the arrangements for the next day. We also told her that we did, in fact, want to have the baby's chromosomes tested. In doing so, we would be able to know the gender of the baby. We won't know for a couple of weeks, but are excited to know whether it was a boy or a girl.

We had some time that afternoon to rest before Gabe would return home from school. Again, I posed the question, "How do we even begin to tell him?" We didn't know the answer to this, and quite honestly, we just let the words flow once he came home from school and began to ask questions about why dad was home from work so early. My heart just ached for Gabe, as he had already been through so much at his tender age. He already had lost a baby sister and another sibling. We assured him that things would be just fine this time and that the baby was growing so good and would be healthy. We believed these things to be true ourselves.

So again, Gabe asked, "Did dad have a half day? Why are you home?" And with a nod from Justin, I told Gabe that we had some bad news. I told him that I had gone to the doctor this morning and found out that the baby had died in my tummy. He looked at me with his big brown eyes, sparkling as the tears began to well up. I lifted him into my lap and wrapped my arms around him as his tiny body began to sob. He cried. I cried. Justin cried. We laid on our bed, arms around each other, as I stroked Gabe's head promising that it will be okay. After several moments Gabe sat up and I told him that we didn't understand or know why this happened. But that there was one thing we know for sure. I asked Gabe, "Do you know what that one thing is?" and he replied with all the confidence in the world by saying, "Our baby is in heaven." I nodded in agreement, tears in my eyes, with a smile on my face and offered him a reassuring "Yes! Our baby is in heaven!"

There's a song that I have come to really appreciate through my losses that I would like to share (you will need to pause the playlist that automatically plays at the bottom of the screen). Lindsay shared this song with me a few months ago. She too has experienced the heartache of loss in her own life, and because of our children, God formed Mommies with Hope through us. Anyway, check out the song below, titled "Always". With God, there are no mistakes. He doesn't fail us. His plans are always for good. He knows our pain and promises to be with us...Always!