I Can Do Hard Things

On Peter's birthday this year (January 19th), early in the morning, I took a pregnancy test and discovered (as I had already suspected) that I was pregnant. I felt so at peace. I also felt very happy.

I placed the pregnancy test in a very obvious place so Jeremiah could see it when he woke up.

When Jeremiah saw the pregnancy test after he woke up, he was so happy. The due date would have been on September 26th--Jeremiah's birthday.

Things went well. I have always had healthy pregnancies. I don't get morning sickness. I just feel very tired. I get pregnancy headaches and nightmares. I am sensitive to strong scents...and those make me dry heave and gag, but I never throw up. Nothing big though. Nothing really to worry about.

I finally got around to setting up an appointment with my new OB/GYN. I had to get another doctor because our insurance changed. I was very sad about this because I really, really loved my other doctor (Dr. Nielson). He had been my doctor since I was 19. He had delivered my two sons. I trusted him, felt comfortable, and honestly, loved him. He's just such a great doctor!

Jeremiah and I told a few close friends about the pregnancy. At about seven weeks along, we told all our family. I had never had a miscarriage before and had no reason to think that anything out of the norm was going on. I simply figured that it was just easier to tell people earlier rather than waiting because it helped to explain why I was so tired all the time.We were waiting to make it public, however.

I am the choir director in our ward and at the end of one of our choir practices, one of the gals in choir said, "Jeremiah is so baby crazy these days." I said, "Yes, you are right. He is very baby crazy." She very pointedly said, "Do you have an announcement to make?" She had known that we were trying for a baby. I didn't know what to say. Everyone went quiet and all eyes were on me. I wasn't ready to make it widely known yet--especially since we hadn't even told the boys yet. I thought to myself, "Do I lie because I'm not ready to tell people yet? Or do I just tell them that I am and just be done with it?" Then I thought, "I am waiting so long to answer. My pause has probably already answered her question and made them suspicious." So, I said, "Yes. I am pregnant, but I am very early on. I am only seven weeks along, and we haven't told the boys yet. So, don't tell anyone else."

That night, we told the boys that I was pregnant. We figured that it was absolutely ridiculous that my choir knew that I was having a baby, but that our sons didn't. When we told them, they were so excited. They were honestly so happy about our news. They chattered all night long and throughout the upcoming days about our new baby and how my belly would get bigger and bigger until the baby came around Daddy's birthday.

We just felt so happy. So at peace. We felt that so many of our concerns and questions had been answered with this baby.

Then we went to our first pre-natal doctor's visit and everything changed.

I am 34 and will be turning 35 in May, about four months before the baby's due date. We went in to visit with our new doctor and he spent the first 20-30 minutes of the appointment talking to us about all of the things that could go wrong because I was now a high risk pregnancy because I would be turning 35 in May. "You may want to consider genetic counseling. You may want to think about getting this blood test, that blood test, or an amniocentesis. You could have a down syndrome baby or a trisomy baby," and on, and on, and on. No positives. Just all of the risks. At one point, Jeremiah even said, "If Sarah was 33, would you even be telling her these things?" The doctor said, "No."

We finally got around to the ultrasound. I laid down on the table and Jeremiah stood behind the table so he could see the ultrasound screen. As the doctor started the ultrasound, he immediately started saying things like, "This doesn't look normal. That doesn't look right. That tissue looks very spongy. The baby looks small," and more comments like that. Jeremiah and I didn't really know what this meant. We didn't know if the baby was gone, or if something was wrong with the baby, or what. Finally, the doctor said, "I can't find a heartbeat." That, we understood.

After reflecting on it later, it would have been so much easier if the doctor had kept his thoughts to himself, kept quiet, and when he had no doubt, he should have simply said, "I am so sorry, but I can't find a heartbeat."

We were in shock. We didn't know what to think. The doctor said he wanted to take us to the better ultrasound machine where the ultrasound tech could look at things with more accuracy. We waited in his office while the machine became available, hoping, somehow that he had been wrong.

When that ultrasound machine became available, we went in and I lay down on the table. The ultrasound tech told us that she wanted to take some quick measurements first. While doing the ultrasound, she said things like, "It looks like the baby is measuring at 7 weeks. Your uterus has continued to grow and it is the size it should be at 9 weeks, but your baby is not," and when we heard blank, empty static through the machine that detects the heartbeat I said, "So, something happened at around seven weeks and my baby stopped growing, and there is no heartbeat?" She said, "Yes. I am sorry."

We were ushered back into the doctor's office where he began to talk to us about miscarriage options. Honestly, it was so surreal. I don't think I really remember many details about that conversation. I remember him saying that I could have something called a D and C (which to me, before, had only ever been an abbreviation for The Doctrine and Covenants. I am so naive, but I had really never even heard of a D and C before). He said I could let it happen naturally, or that I could take some medicine that would make it happen.

I didn't know what to do. This was so not how I expected this appointment to go. I opted to let it happen naturally. He wrote me a prescription for the medicine that would initiate the miscarriage if I decided to do it that way. I remember him telling me that it would be a good idea to keep the "tissue" for testing after the miscarriage happened, but that I didn't need to save the blood clots. He then told me that he wanted to see me in two weeks no matter what option I decided to go with. I did my best to hold it together. My voice trembled here and there, but I didn't burst into tears.

We went to the appointment desk to set up the appointment. The receptionist said, "Is this for pregnancy?" I swallowed hard and my voice caught as I said, "No. It is for a miscarriage." We got out of the hospital somehow without breaking down (though it wasn't easy to walk past that giant picture of a baby by the door as you walked out of the office).

I had forgotten my phone that morning. Jeremiah let me borrow his and I called my Mom. I immediately burst into tears and said, "Mom, I had a miscarriage." I don't remember much more than that about that call. We drove to Jeremiah's parent's house to pick up the boys (Jeremiah's mom had been babysitting them) while I did a fair share of crying.

We walked into the house and heard the boys happily playing downstairs. It was so hard to walk down the stairs and see our boys so happy and playing without any worries or cares while our hearts were breaking.

Debra asked how the appointment went. We told her it hadn't gone well and that I had miscarried. Jeremiah then couldn't fight back the tears. He went out into the back yard where there was an old baseball bat. To my knowledge, he then beat the crap out of an old tree stump with that bat.

We talked to Debra for awhile and then drove home after getting the boys some lunch. Jeremiah had to go back to work. I had a little work to do as well (my work-from-home transcriptionist job as well as my job of simply being a mom). Jeremiah had something he had to do in the evening after work. He had scouts the following night. I didn't know when we would get a chance to talk to the boys together. So, I decided to talk to the boys by myself. They needed to know why Mom and Dad were acting so strangely, and were so sad.

I sat the boys down on the couch next to me. I told them, while fighting back tears, that Heavenly Father needed our baby to come back to him and that I didn't have a baby in my belly anymore. Johnny grasped that we weren't going to have a baby anymore, but he didn't quite get more than that. Peter understood more. He immediately looked very surprised, and then very disappointed and sad. Then he angrily said, "You shouldn't have gone to that doctor today. I want to punch him in the face." He's kind of like his dad that way. :) The boys were incredibly sweet to me for the rest of the day. I kept telling them that I was sad and that I needed their hugs. They freely gave me hugs whenever I asked for them.

I made it through my work that afternoon while Johnny took a nap. Peter played quietly in his room and watched a movie in the meantime. That night, while Jeremiah was gone, we played video games in the basement together and the boys were so sweet. I somehow held it together and made it through the night and finally put the boys to bed.

Shortly after the boys were in bed, Jeremiah got home. Peter called for Jeremiah, and he finished putting Peter to bed. When Jeremiah finally came back in, we cuddled in bed together and reflected on the day. Then we couldn't hold it back any longer. We held each other and sobbed over our loss. We had been so excited for this little baby. We were so heartbroken. Jeremiah told me that Peter had offered a prayer that night before going to bed. In his prayer, he said, "We are so grateful that Mom was able to have a baby, and we are grateful that this baby is able to go back and live with Heavenly Father." I just love my little Peter. He is such a good boy. He understands a lot and has a big spirit. We were so sad, but we definitely felt the spirit throughout the day.

My mom let our side of the family know what had happened. I sent a text to my dad (who was out of town for work). I sent an email out to the ward choir to let them know the change in our circumstances because I couldn't bear to have one of them ask me how my pregnancy was going. I was so frustrated that we had ended up telling people about the pregnancy so early on. I had never told anyone about my pregnancies before I was 10 weeks before (never before my first pre-natal appointment). I had no reason to think that anything would be different this time around. I was embarrassed, and I was sad to have my personal news made so public. However, it turned out to be quite a tender mercy. We experienced such an outpouring of love and support from so many members of our ward. We received so many offers from people to watch our boys for us, to bring us dinners, etc. Dad sent me some beautiful flowers even though he was out of town. Most people simply brought us dinners, flowers, treats, etc. without even asking us first. So many women came forward to share with me their stories of their miscarriages. I was so grateful to hear their experiences--their struggles as well as their healing. It strengthened me immensely. It definitely helped me to bear my burdens during those very hard days.

Experiences like this really make you ponder. When does the spirit really enter the body? Is this a baby that will be ours in the eternities? Or was this little body just not physically ready for the spirit that needed to enter it? Will this baby come down to us later when the body prepared for it is right? I'm not sure how it works. I am grateful that the Lord knows, and that all He does is for the ultimate happiness of His children.

Ironically, when we went to church the Sunday after we received our hard news, a lady in our ward got up and tearfully told her tale of how a heartbeat was not found when she went in for a pre-natal appointment, and how she was going to have to schedule a D and C. She was in the process of moving and had to go to a different doctor in a different state after that first appointment. At that second appointment, they miraculously discovered a heartbeat. The baby was fine and all was well. Seriously? I looked at Jeremiah incredulously and we both just kind of laughed. The timing of this testimony was just...unbelievable. I mean, what are the odds? It was actually quite a testimony to me that we need to be very careful what personal miracles we share, and with whom we share them because one person's miracle can be another person's current pain or trial.

Anyway, in the meantime, I felt like a ticking time bomb. I didn't know when or how my miscarriage was going to happen. I had never had a miscarriage before and had no idea what to expect. Finally, my mom suggested that I go and have a consultative appointment with Dr. Nielson to get some clarification, guidance, and comfort. My dad and Jeremiah's mom both offered to pay for the appointment since it wouldn't be covered by our insurance (which was such a thoughtful and wonderful thing for them to do). So, I set up an appointment for the following Monday (almost a full week after the first appointment).

I am so glad that I set up this appointment. It provided us with so much comfort and peace. Dr. Nielson was wonderful. He explained that miscarriages simply happen sometimes. He said that his wife had had five pregnancies, but only four babies. He said a good number of women have at least one miscarriage. He comforted me by saying that I had already had two healthy pregnancies/babies and that I was fully capable of doing it again. He offered clarification about what I could do for the miscarriage process. He explained to me the healing process and how soon we could start trying for a baby again. He even told us that he was able to deliver at the hospital that was covered by our insurance and that he could make a special exception and deliver my next baby, but that we would have to self-pay for the doctor's visits (which I later looked into and it isn't nearly as expensive as I thought it would be. We are totally going to go with that option). I felt so comforted to know that this was an option. Dr. Nielson even did another ultrasound for me to explain what was going on. One of the things that had concerned me that the other doctor had said was that, "This tissue is spongy." I didn't know what that meant and if it had anything to do with my being able to bear children in the future. Dr. Nielson put that fear to rest and explained that there were sort of bubbles in the uterine lining (the lining that is prepared to protect the baby). He simply explained that it looked like the lining was starting to prepare for the miscarriage to take place.

After talking with Dr. Nielson, I decided to take the medication at home to initiate the miscarriage rather than having the D and C. I told Jeremiah that I had a good tolerance for pain and that I would rather have a weekend of pain than go in for outpatient surgery and have to have a $100 a month payment for the next year to pay for it.

I decided to take the medication that Friday night after the boys went to bed, and we planned for Jeremiah to take the boys to his parent's house so I could rest on Saturday.

On Friday morning (March 7th), I went and picked up the medication to initiate the miscarriage given to me by the other doctor and the prescription for pain pills given to me by Dr. Nielson. The pharmacy technician said, "I have to ask you if you are pregnant or planning on becoming pregnant before I give you these pills." I said, "Well, I was pregnant, but I lost the baby. These pills are to help me with the miscarriage." She still had to check with the pharmacist before giving me the pills. I was grateful that she asked because it would be terrible if someone with a healthy pregnancy took them and accidentally had a miscarriage. However, it still made me very sad. It was so odd to think that if things had gone well, I would be about 11 weeks along and almost out of the first trimester. It had been such a weird place to be in for nearly the past two weeks to know that I was still technically pregnant, but that I was carrying a baby that had already passed away.

I cried the entire drive home. It was so different from what I thought it would be. I somehow made it through the day, despite the fact that I was feeling a lot of anxiety due to the anticipation that I would be having a miscarriage within the next 24 hours. I still didn't know what it would feel like.

That night, after the boys went to bed and were finally asleep, Jeremiah gave me a blessing while I wept. I then took the medicine. I had no idea how soon it would kick in. I didn't know if it would cause me to have a miscarriage in 20 minutes, or three hours, or what.

Jeremiah and I went downstairs and watched The Lone Ranger (we got it from Redbox--Jeremiah had been wanting to see it for a long time). I felt nothing out of the ordinary physically. In fact, up to this point, I had still had no spotting or cramping of any kind. If I hadn't had that doctor's appointment, I would still have no idea that anything was amiss. In fact, the pregnancy hormones were still strong and I still felt sensitive to strong smells, etc. It was a very interesting night in many ways. I enjoyed watching the movie with Jeremiah. It was entertaining, and I had a good time with Jeremiah. I felt very close to Jeremiah that night. However, it was also odd to be watching and waiting for something to happen with my body.

When the movie was done, we went upstairs and Jeremiah went to bed. I stayed up until I had to take the second dose of medication (at about 1:30 in the morning). I then went to sleep. At about 2:30 a.m., I woke up due to some painful cramping. I took a few pain pills that had been prescribed to me by Dr. Nielson. At that point, I drifted back to sleep. At about 5:15 a.m., I felt the urge to go to the bathroom. At this point, the first phase of the miscarriage took place. It appeared to be only blood clots, but I didn't really know what the tissue would look like. The miscarriage happened in about four phases. At this point, I didn't know if it was done, or if there was more to come. I cleaned myself up and went back to bed. At about 6:15 a.m., I felt the urge to go back to the toilet where the same thing happened again. Again, just more of the same. I again cleaned myself up and went back to bed. At about 7:15 a.m., I felt the same urge to go to the toilet. This time, I didn't make it without getting blood on my pajama bottoms, garments, and bathroom mat. This time took longer. As I was cleaning myself up, I realized that the tissue was finally passing. I had to help it happen by gently pulling it out. I put it in a zip top bag as I had been instructed to do. It was so strange to realize that I was holding the material that could have been a new life.

There wasn't much time to think about that though because I had to clean myself up as well as my pajamas, garments, and bath mat before they were stained beyond repair. Peter heard the bath tub running while I was rinsing out my clothes. I brought the Xoom to him so he could watch a show. Jeremiah then woke up and went to take care of Peter. I cleaned out my clothes completely. When I finished with that, I realized that Jonathan had woken up too. I took him downstairs. I got everyone some breakfast and felt suddenly lightheaded. I knew I needed to get some food for myself and then get back to bed to get off my feet before I passed out.

I served my guys and then went upstairs. I wearily started to crawl into bed when I realized that I needed to go back to the toilet. I can't tell you how disheartened and exhausted I felt when I realized this. All I wanted to do was to lay down, but my body had other things to do first. At this point, it was about 8 a.m. I went back to the toilet one final time and then cleaned myself up and crawled into bed. I ate my food and then rested. Jeremiah got the boys ready and took them to visit his parents. I called my mom to let her know how everything had gone. Then I texted the doctor to let him know how the miscarriage had gone (he had asked me to let him know when it happened and how everything went). At about 10:30 a.m., I fell asleep. I woke up at about 1:30 p.m. I felt tired, but...okay. Physically, I felt fine. I just felt empty. Exhausted. I felt relieved to know that I could finally start my healing process so that we could start trying for another baby sooner rather than later. This experience really solidified our knowledge that another baby is meant to join our family, for our sake, as well as for the boys' sake.

Thank goodness I felt normal on Sunday. My body felt fine. I felt okay. I felt hope. I felt like I could make it through this even though I still felt sad. I felt ready to move on.

I went to sacrament meeting and then took Johnny home with me since he had a sneeze and a runny nose. I had choir practice on Sunday afternoon. I felt that it was necessary because we have so few practices left and so much to learn still...but the feeling of urgency must have only been on my part because only four people showed up. It probably would have been better to cancel it. Oh well. Jeremiah took the boys to his parent's house for dinner so I could rest some more.

That night at about 11:30 p.m., I heard Johnny choking, coughing, spluttering, and crying over his monitor. I went in to check on him and found that he had thrown up all over himself and his bed. Jeremiah quickly took Johnny to give him a shower while I cleaned everything up. Johnny threw up some more throughout the night. Jeremiah was so sweet and helpful with this. I felt so much love for him. I had physically gone through so much that weekend and I couldn't have faced this too without his help. Thankfully, when Johnny got up for good the next morning, he was over it. It was a very quick bug, and no one else came down with it. This was a blessing because Jeremiah had a really hard day of his own (another long story, not to be told here--just another one of those times in life that when it rains, it pours).

We had made it through. We were exhausted and sad, but we were ready to move forward with the healing process. We were taking it a day at a time.

I called my mom on Wednesday morning. While we were talking, she interrupted me and solemnly said, "Sarah, I have to tell you something." I immediately said, "Okay, someone is pregnant. Just tell me who." Mom said, "Kim and Clayton are expecting a baby." I said, "That is okay. I am happy for them. I am not going to let my experience make me feel otherwise." Then the kicker came. Mom said, "Sarah, their due date is September 28th." Ouch. I can't even explain to you how that made me feel. I genuinely was happy for Clayton and Kim. Having a baby is a miracle. I am happy for them to expand their family. I want them to have more children and for them to have healthy pregnancies. However, the due date made it hit really close to home. I don't exactly know if this will make sense, but it made me feel like I had just found out that I had lost my baby all over again. I called Jeremiah and said, "I have some happy news that will probably also make you feel a little sad. Clayton and Kim are going to have a baby." I then burst into tears as I said, "The baby is due on September 28th."

I'm not going to lie, I then went home and cried for at least an hour straight. Not trickling tears down my cheek, but uncontrollable, body heaving, breath-catching sobs. I just felt so, so sad. I felt the loss for my own baby all over again. I had very much wanted this baby, and I was so excited, and felt so much peace when I found out I was pregnant. I already loved this baby very much and had made so many future plans. Johnny, bless his heart, played coloring games on my phone and watched a movie during this time while I was crippled as a mother. Honestly, I couldn't do anything but cry. I couldn't face any of the tasks I had to do. It was a very hard day. I had not expected this. Just when I felt that things were starting to get a little easier, I suffered another blow.

I must repeat that I didn't feel that Clayton and Kim's happiness was unfair, or that I didn't want them to have it when I was suffering. I was (and am) happy for them. However, the timing was particularly painful for me.

The next day, I had my follow-up appointment with my doctor. This appointment was much harder for me to bear than it might have been because of the blow I had received the day before. I had a really hard time keeping it together during that appointment. We had kept the tissue from the miscarriage...but we had finally decided against having it tested. We decided that it could only either confirm what we knew to be true--that it was just one of those things--or that it could possibly give us unnecessary fears about trying for another baby in the future. Especially when we know without a question or a doubt that another baby needs to join our family, and that it is important that we do everything we can to try for that baby.

As soon as I got back out to my car, all of my barriers were down and the tears couldn't be stopped. I just felt so sad. So heartbroken. So much loss. This has been so hard. I always knew that a miscarriage would be hard. However, like most things, you don't know how hard a thing is until you actually experience it for yourself. This really is such a hard thing to go through. I bonded with that little baby the moment I knew I was pregnant--which was actually two days before I took my first pregnancy test. Jeremiah and I had gone to the temple. I was sitting in the endowment session and I just knew. I knew I was pregnant and I felt so peaceful about it.

I went and picked up the boys from Debra's house. She has been so wonderful to watch the boys for me so much during this time. I got the boys lunch and took them home. The rest of that day was hard and I couldn't hold back the tears. The tears came unexpectedly and suddenly throughout the day. That evening, we went to a play (Joseph and the Amazing Technicolor Dreamcoat) that my niece, Alexa, was performing in while my mom babysat the boys. It was such a welcome diversion. I needed it. I only wish that I had been in better spirits before and after the play because I felt that I let Jeremiah down that night. He needed more of a break than what he got because I was so sad. I felt so sad and was just trying to hold back the tears.

After everyone went to bed that night, I knew that there was one final thing I needed to take care of. That tissue was still out in our garage in a zip top bag inside a giant sour cream container and it needed to be disposed of. I had thought of just throwing it in the garbage, but the thought that a dog or some other animal might get to it made me very sad. I thought about burying it, but I knew that every time we went by the place where it had been buried, I would think about it. I didn't want that. I decided that it would just be best to flush it...which is what would have happened if I hadn't saved the tissue originally anyway. Every option seemed so...irreverent...and not how I would want to care for such sacred material. You know?

It was kind of the last hard thing I needed to do in order to resolve things (besides writing the whole thing out in this blog post). I put it off. It wasn't something that I was looking forward to doing. Finally, at about 11:30 p.m. that night (Thursday, March 13th), I flushed the tissue down the toilet. It just made me so sad. Again, I sobbed. My whole body heaved with the pain and loss of it. There are many levels of sadness that come with a miscarriage. So much to come to terms with. So much to overcome. A loss of expectations. A loss of a future I thought would have been my reality in only a few months. As I flushed the toilet, my heart ached with the thought that I had actually held that in my hand...held what could have been my baby.

My sobs woke Jeremiah. He held me and did his best to comfort me. He had experienced a loss and sadness of his own, but there were portions of my process that he couldn't quite understand. I know he felt frustrated at my sadness and his inability to stop my tears.

The next morning, I woke up with a new resolve. The realization that I will probably still feel sadness in times to come, but also the realization that I needed to go on for the sake of my husband, and for the sake of my boys. I need to be happy, and upbeat for their sake. Life is good...even when it is hard.

Throughout these past two weeks, I have felt an abundance of the spirit. Through my sadness, I have felt the comfort and love of my Lord and Savior. We have felt an outpouring of love from the members of our ward.

Before we found out about the loss of our baby, my mom had posted something to our Mackay Family Facebook page. I want to share it: "Elder Hafen said that studies have been done and children are more resilient when they know the history of their family members who have gone before them and learned what they have overcome. He said that in their family they had a motto, 'We do hard things.' His wife would ask his children each day what hard things they had accomplished. It is something to know the stock that you come from and how generations before you have been strong and overcome. So proud of all the hard things all of you have done."

Now, this miscarriage is not the only hard thing I have ever experienced or overcome. Far from it. I have had to overcome many things in my life. I have done many hard things. It is important for me as I look back on all of the hard things I have done, and all of the hard things I have overcome that the Lord's hand has been in my life and His presence has been felt throughout those hard times.

The words to "Be Still My Soul," especially the second verse, bring me so much comfort:

Be still, my soul: Thy God doth undertake

To guide the future as he has the past.

Thy hope, thy confidence let nothing shake;

All now mysterious shall be bright at last.

Be still, my soul: The waves and winds still know

His voice who ruled them while he dwelt below.

I know that the Lord has guided my past. So, why should I ever question that He would also guide my future? I have felt Him during these past weeks. I know He is also ever present. I am grateful for this knowledge. I am grateful to know that I can make it through this hard time just as I have other hard times that I have gone through in the past. I can do hard things. I can overcome hard things. However, more than that, I can come through these experiences better, and stronger, and more empathetic than I was before.