Well, this is a hard blog to write, but I figured it’s the best way to let everyone know and to avoid confrontation. I won’t lie, that’s my goal.
I guess I’ll just get right down to it. I miscarried this week. I went to have a dating ultrasound on Tuesday night to confirm my due date of April 20th. The doctor thought it was strange that the baby measured 2 weeks smaller than he or she was supposed to. I was supposed to be 11 weeks. So after 2 hours of waiting I had the ultrasound and it was strange because they wouldn’t show me the screen or let Brandon in the room. They told me that something wasn’t routine and they needed a doctor to read the results. But all the doctors were in the OR and they sent me home. They called at 10:30 that night and told me to go to my normal doctor the next day. So, full of hope, Brandon and I went, excited to see our little baby, since the mean lady last night wouldn’t even show us a picture. Turns out, the baby had not grown in a couple weeks and there was no longer a heart beat.
I’ll spare you the details on how my heart hurts, as I’m sure you can imagine it does. But I’ll leave you with one thought of comfort. I have this Bible verse stuck on my fridge:
I felt kinda silly when I first printed it out, since it’s one of those verses that everyone quotes in every circumstance. But today God really gave me comfort through this verse. I spend so much time trying to figure out what God’s thoughts are toward me, but in reality, I don’t need to know what they are, because I already know that they are good.