Life, lately

Long post ahead, so buckle up, besties.

Trigger warning: Talk of miscarriage.

Life has been a real lemon lately, and to be quite frank. I am exhausted. It’s August 8th and the events my family and I thought would take place over the last two months have been changed in every way imaginable. So let me just get into it.

Two and a half months ago, we decided to sell our house. Our realtors contacted us letting us know how much equity we had in our house and after a lot of thinking and deliberating, we decided to go for it. This would be our chance to get out of debt and finally experience the financial freedom we’ve craved for so long. We made this decision at the end of May, hoping we would be sold and moved out by the end of summer.

Then, the first week of June, the same week we were sitting down to finalize putting the house on the market, my husband found out he may be losing his job. It was a very up in the air kind of thing, no sure answers yet, just something to be aware of. So, we continued with our plans, thinking maybe it’ll all workout, God’s got a plan.

That very same weekend I found our cat, Gotham, dead in a neighbor’s yard. He was the first “baby” we got together after getting married and the grief of losing him hit harder than anything I’d ever experienced. I cried for a week over the loss.

Two days later, I found out I was pregnant with our fourth baby. I was so scared to tell Pirtle because the timing just didn’t feel right. We were getting our house ready to go on the market, he still wasn’t sure what was happening with his job, and things just felt…heavy. But when I told him, he smiled. In the middle of grieving his most beloved cat, he smiled. He told me that this was the best thing that could possibly happen. That baby was bringing a bit of joy into a difficult time.

So, life went on. We painted walls and cleaned up the yard. We patched imperfections and before long, the house was on the market. We were ready to get moving.

We would get a request for a showing, and I would speed clean the house, get the kids in the car and pray I wouldn’t have to stop and throw up in the process. (Morning sickness, woohoo)

Showing after showing and…Nothing. No one wanted our house. I was so bummed but thought, it’s all part of God’s plan, when the timing is right, someone will want it.

Days passed and time got closer for my first appointment with my OBGYN, we were finally going to get to see our baby for the first time! The morning started out rough, things in our home were tense and I was so discouraged because today is supposed to be a good and exciting day, we get to see our baby, after all. I sat silently in the waiting room, until our name was called. My favorite ultrasound tech (yes, I’ve been through this enough to have a favorite) called us back and the smile slapped across my face in an instant.

I sat on the chair, the jelly went on, and then that black and white picture started showing.

There you are. I smiled to myself, “Hi, baby.”

As soon as the words left my mouth, I knew something was wrong. My baby wasn’t alive. There was no movement from my little Jellybean, and my babies are always moving.

“I’m not seeing a heartbeat.”

My whole body began to shake, and the tears came instantly, and then I did something I will forever regret. I didn’t look at Jellybean’s dad. I couldn’t. I felt shame in a way I’d never felt shame before. I was supposed to keep our baby safe, afterall. What had I done wrong? How did this happen? Why didn’t this baby make it?

The picture of a flatline is still haunting if I let myself think about it too long. I don’t think I’ve stopped crying since that day. We got a sonogram photo and waited for my doctor. I emptied a tissue box and apologized that our baby didn’t make it.

Surgery was scheduled, and two days later, my baby was gone. No longer in my womb, that didn’t protect them the way I thought it should anyways. But surgery led us to answers that I’m forever grateful to have now. About myself and Jellybean, too.

The family pictures I'd scheduled to make our announcement had to be canceled, the outfits I bought for them still sit in the closet with the tags because how can I wear it and not feel the heartache of what they should have been used for?

It’s August now, we thought we would be moved out, sharing the happy news of a new life with everyone outside of our family, and getting ready for the next adventure in life.

It’s August now, and I don’t know what’s going to happen next. Because my husband is losing his job. Our house is off the market and my baby is back with Jesus, when I wish, more than anything, that she was still with me.

Jellybean is a baby girl. Stevie girl’s little sister. And I don’t think I’ll ever stop wishing I’d gotten the chance to see her grow up. To see the two of them be the best of friends like my sister and I are. To witness the tea parties, insane concerts and gymnastics routines I’m sure they would have created together.

I miss her every single day

My heart will never not be broken for the baby girl I never got to hold.

I wasn’t sure I’d want to share this story for a long time. But if I can let someone else who’s gone through this or is currently going through this know they’re not alone—then I will. This is the most heartbreaking thing I’ve ever been through and I wouldn’t have wanted to go through it alone. I’m always here if you need someone. Grieving shouldn’t have to be done alone. Even though it feels easier sometimes, to be alone.

It’s August now, but I still believe that God has a greater plan. He knew my baby girl wouldn’t have survived this world, and he carried her back to himself to take care of her, better than I ever could have. I have to believe that or the heartbreak will tear me apart.