Trevor Bryce

I haven't written in a couple of weeks. Allen's work schedule has been crazy and then he was asked to preach last Sunday's sermon so that took precedence.

I've had a few weepy days but I'm not ready to put it out there what triggered them because it may be taken wrong if any of the parties involved read it. So today I'm going to tell the story of my precious Trevor Bryce.

Allen and I were always hyper-vigilant with practicing birth control because I was pretty sure that he believed we were done having children. Secretly I believed (pined for) a third child. I really wanted to be pregnant one more time. But we started to be a little more careless/carefree about birth control.

In January of 2011 I got a really bad sinus infection and upper respiratory infection combo and decided to break down and go to the doctor. At this time I was not exactly late on my period but I did "feel" pregnant. Every time I've been pregnant, I've "felt" pregnant. I've always been very in tune with my body and I just know. The doctor gave me several prescriptions and cautioned me not to take them if I thought I was pregnant. I told her I thought there was a chance. She said we should just go ahead and test. It was negative. I knew it would be. It was too soon to show up on a doctor's test. I decided to only take the antibiotic since the others could be harmful in pregnancy because I knew I was. I thought that would be safe.

Sure enough, a couple of days later I got my positive test. Twice. Every other day I'd test to be sure. Seven tests total! Allen wasn't super thrilled at this point but he wasn't super mad either so I said I'd take it. After all, he had nine months to get used to the idea.

I wanted to start telling people right away but he didn't. When we got pregnant with our girls we told everyone we knew the minute we had two lines on the stick. I had no reason to think this would be any different.

We took the kids to eat and told them. Kinsey was not happy. Shelby was over the moon. We started talking names over the next several days and the name Trevor Bryce stuck. Everyone agreed and agreed quickly which was unusual for us. We knew we were going to have our boy.

I made a doctor's appointment but I was going to have to wait several weeks. I was only 4 1/2 weeks and they wouldn't see me until 6-8 weeks. FOREVER!

Slowly we were telling people. So the word was getting out. I would be 37 when the baby was born.

We don't have a big house so I though we should start right away preparing because it would take a while. We bought the girls bunk beds and moved them in together. Looking back I feel so foolish and am amazed at how much we actually did get done in that short time.

That next Saturday night, I convinced Allen and the girls that we should go to Babies 'R Us just to look around and get ideas. We were having so much fun. We had walked over half the store when I needed to go to the restroom. I made my way to the back of the store to the restrooms. (The next bit may be TMI but it's how it happened) I had a strong BM. When I wiped there was a small amount of blood. I was a little concerned but not panicky. I was sure I was fine, but as I was washing my hands I felt like I needed to go back in and make sure. I wiped again and there was a little more blood. I went cold. I just knew. Nothing like this had ever happened with the girls. I found Allen and said I need to go home. I'm bleeding. He took me home.

I spotted off and on all night. The next morning I told Allen and the girls to go on to church. I was in touch with the on call nurse all morning. She was not much help and no comfort. If I was losing the pregnancy I was just losing it. Nothing could be done. If the bleeding filled a pad then I was to go to the ER. If not, call the office first thing in the morning for an appointment.

It did not fill a pad but it did increase as did the cramps. I prayed, pleaded and yelled at God to please not do this. To please not take my baby. I hoped but I knew.

I didn't want to go to the doctor alone but Allen had to work so I got my mother to go with me to sit in the waiting room. They took me back for an ultrasound. The tech asked me why I had come in as she was examining me. I told her I was pregnant. She said, "Hmmm...Are you sure about your dates because I'm seeing nothing. There's nothing there. Look." There's nothing in your head either, lady! I wanted to punch her in the face.

So I went upstairs to get my blood and urine tests. My doctor came in with the same attitude as the ultrasound tech. He came in very clinical asking about dates, etc. I told him about the seven positive tests. He then proceeded to unload statistics about my advanced age, being overweight, my thyroid and all these miscarriage probabilities. Just me and him alone in this room. I refused to cry in front of this man who was just doing his job. Here I was bleeding out my baby and him in his crisp white lab coat.

I headed to the waiting room with all these women in various stages of pregnancy to my Mama. We left.

I was embarrassed.
I felt like maybe I was crazy. Maybe I had imagined everything.
I also felt very guilty. Like shouldn't have taken the antibiotics or I should have started prenatal vitamins earlier.
My body had failed.
All all those people we told! My gosh, how in the world do you un-tell people about being pregnant?
I felt like this was my last chance to be pregnant and I blew it.
I felt empty. Very empty.
I felt alone.
I felt sad.

I kept trying to console myself. Be glad for your two healthy kids. Be glad you weren't further along. Can you imagine how hard it would be if you had gotten more attached? Be glad it took care of itself naturally. Be glad you didn't have to raise a special needs child. Be glad you didn't tell any more people than you did.

Let me tell you - that's all BULL GARBAGE!! I figured that's what I would hear from other people and I figured that's that's what you were supposed to tell people who lost a pregnancy. I figured I'd feel better after I told myself all those things and that I had better be the one to comfort myself because there's no way I could tell people about this and make other people uncomfortable!

This is how I felt after I lost my first angel, Trevor. I wish I could say I've done a complete about face and don't believe any of this mess but sometimes I do believe it - a little. I don't want people to feel awkward. I AM glad I wasn't further along.

But I don't want to always stuff it either. And if I'm really honest, I do wish it had been further. I wish I had seen him on an ultrasound. Seen his little flicker of a heart beating. Seen him rolling around. Felt him rumbling and tumbling in my belly. Heard him scream when they popped him out. Rubbed my nose in his fuzzy newborn head. Be exhausted now at 40 years old because I have a house full of tonka trucks and Bob the Builder toys and a 3 1/2 year old dirty faced, black haired little boy to chase! OH GOD! I just want my boy!! I ache for my boy!

I was confused about how to grieve this loss or if I was supposed to grieve at all. I made baby steps and did grieve along the way. I would pull it out and cry and then put it away and try not to think about it. I just needed to get over it or so I thought. I was really about to get over it (or so I thought) when my due date - what I call Trevor's birthday - rolled around. I told my boss that I wanted to take that day off. My reasoning was I wasn't supposed to be there anyway and I just really wanted to be alone. So I put in my request for leave for October 24, 2011. She was less than supportive. She just couldn't understand what the big deal was. That reinforced the idea that I couldn't trust people with this. She didn't really want to let me take off but I did. I'm glad I did.

I began to heal. Allen and I were working through some things. He was even warming up to the idea of maybe really trying on purpose to get pregnant. And miracle of miracles in June of 2013, I did. But that's a story for another day.

Week 2 Post

I know this is only a couple of days but I've really been doing it for a couple of weeks. This is my journal entry for week 2. This post is more about me finding my way in the journaling/blogging thing than anything else. I'm really still figuring all this out.

I went back to the library and tried to look up some books but none were on the shelf. If I'm going to turn my Celebrate Recovery Thursdays into a mother's grieving group then I need a text.

I kind of feel like I'm supposed to be "doing" things like being proactive about starting a group and starting a blog and having this dedicated time but I'm not sure I'm supposed to be "doing" anything during my dedicated time. I guess I feel like if I'm going to take up space at the library I need that space needs to have activity.

Actually it felt really good to be sitting at a table alone writing. I used to write a lot when I was younger. Of course when I was younger I had the time to write. No job, no husband, no kids, no responsibilities -- just a lot of time to try to figure things out by putting it on paper. It still felt like I was just doing a writing exercise. Then it hit me - I probably should be writing with a purpose. A topic. Duh. So I brainstormed topics.

I listed several starter topics to delve into. I feel good about the list. Hopefully most of them will turn into blog posts. I think I'm doing this right (the grieving thing). I'm still scared that I'm not and I'm also scared if I do it really right it will get way worse before it gets better. I know I will just have to stay committed and push through

(Psalm 56:3-4 When I am afraid I put my trust in you. In God whose word I praise. In God I trust and am not afraid. What can mere mortals do to me?)

I read James 1 at work today. James 1:2-4 says: Consider it pure joy my brothers and sisters whenever you face trials of many kinds because you know that the testing of your faith produces perseverance. Let perseverance finish its work so that you may be mature and complete not lacking anything.

The commentary in my Bible says:
     The point is not to pretend to be happy when we face pain but to have a positive outlook (consider it pure joy) because of what trials can produce in our lives. James tells us to turn our hardships into times of learning. We can't really know the depth of our character until we see how we react under pressure.

Commentary for Psalm 88 says:
     Don't think that you must always be cheerful and positive. Grief and depression take time to heal.

I know God has led me to this place. I know He wants the best for me. I know that He has a plan and purpose (Jeremiah 29:11). I know that my feelings are not truth but He is the truth, the way and the life. I can't trust my feelings even though they seem very real.

(Psalm 73:21-28 When my heart was grieved and my spirit embittered I was senseless and ignorant. I was a brute beast before you. Yet I am always with you, you hold me by my right hand. You guide me with your counsel and afterward you will take me into glory. Whom have I in heaven but you? And earth has nothing I desire but you. My flesh and my heart may fail but God is the strength of my heart and my portion forever. Those who are far from you will perish. You destroy all who are unfaithful to you. But as for me, it is good to be near to God. I have made the Sovereign Lord my refuge. I will tell of all your deeds.)

(Psalm 71:20 Though you have made me see troubles many and bitter you will restore my life again from the depths of the earth. You will again bring me up.)

The first topic I have on my list that I brainstormed is to talk about my first loss. I named him Trevor Bryce. I've only discussed him with a few people and only then one on one so putting him out there for the world is a little daunting.

I never know how to end these things. I'll try to get better.

Getting Started

This is a journey that I have to go through. No going around, under, over or backwards -- straight through. Just me and God. I don't expect it to be easy or pretty. As I said before I have to commit and see it all the way through. I hope journaling and blogging will help me do that.

I'm calling this journey "Discovering Grief." I'm making an appointment with myself and God to go through this by having dedicated time at the library. I am going to go one night a week and spend at least an hour praying, journaling, reading. I expect many blog entries to come from these times.

I'm discovering grief is different than depression. Depression, I know. I know what it looks like, I know when it's descending on me, I know what I need to do to fight it. Even though I don't always do what it takes, I know how to "get through" depression.

Grief is something that I've always felt like you "get over" or "move past" or it just "goes away." And maybe it does for other types of grief: friends, grandparents, co-workers. But this one is different. I've lost pregnancies - babies. This is a beast.

I've been trying to ignore or get over these losses for almost four years now. There has been gut-wrenching crying, guilt, denial, shame and Incredible Hulk-like rage. It's also sneaky and it will not be ignored. It just manifests itself physically when I try to shove it down. Headaches, nausea, exhaustion, overeating.

God is beckoning me to come and finally walk through it. Look it in the face and call it what it is so that it will not control me anymore. I'm committing to go meet with Him so that He can show me things. Show me Himself.

I know that going through being suicidal as a teenager that there is an "other" side to these things if you will just keep putting one foot in front of the other and hang on to Him. I know also that He will use it for His glory and to help others.

(Romans 8:28 And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love him, who have been called according to his purpose.) 

(2 Corinthians 1:3-6  Praise be to the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of compassion and the God of all comfort, who comforts us in all our troubles, so that we can comfort those in any trouble with the comfort we ourselves receive from God. For just as we share abundantly in the sufferings of Christ, so also our comfort abounds through Christ. If we are distressed, it is for your comfort and salvation; if we are comforted, it is for your comfort, which produces in you patient endurance of the same sufferings we suffer.)

The commentary in my Bible says suffering is necessary pain that accompanies spiritual growth. Jesus came to suffer and die so that He can say He knows our every pain unto death.

I've been reading Job also. There's a section there in my Bible that says suffering is helpful when:

*we turn to God for understanding, endurance and deliverance
*we ask important questions we might not take time to thing about in our normal routine
*we are prepared by it to identify with and comfort others who suffer
*we are open to being helped by others who are obeying God
*we are ready to learn from a trustworthy God
*we realize we can identify with what Christ suffered on the cross for us
*we are sensitized to the amount of suffering in the world

I don't have any clue why God chose to take my babies. He's the Creator. He created them in the first place so they belong to Him. I do know that He knows why and for whatever reason He has chosen not to reveal it to me. I know that I can ask Him questions. I know that it's ok for me to be angry. I know that He is angry. One question I have is since they were such early losses why He let me find out at all. That's one thing I'm really mad and confused about. 

I'm also going to start a gratefulness journey. I know there are things to be grateful for and that I'm not in the habit of being purposeful in my gratefulness and that sounds horrible so I've begun a grateful list. 

I know this post is rather long and rambling but that was the gist of what I got from my first meeting with God to start walking through this. I will try to make the posts more focused and topical as I go along. I just am still getting the hang of what I'm supposed to be doing at all and trying to figure it all out. I don't have a really snappy way of closing so I'm just going to end it here.

Out of Denial

I'm stepping out of the denial that I'm not grieving. Part of that stepping out is to publicly say in blog form to the world wide web that I HAVE LOST THREE BABIES AND I'M GRIEVING!
I've struggled with depression most of my life and this is not it. You will probably hear me say that more than once. I don't know why I would equate grief with depression because they are not the same. They can exist together but they are not the same thing. Realizing this has been a little shocking to me.
I don't know what this journey is supposed to look like or where it's supposed to go. Same for this blog thing. I've dabbled in blogging before but it was always just something to do and served no real purpose. This one is supposed to have a purpose. I am no writer. I am not writing this for anyone in particular except myself so some (most) will probably be incoherent stream of conscious babble. It will probably be messy. If someone receives encouragement though from the words here then that's a cherry on top and I thank God for it.
As I suffered through my depression as a teenager I asked God to use the experience to be able to help other people that are hurting and to not let my pain be in vain. Now, I'm hoping the same thing. I'm hoping that my babies short little lives and the agony of their loss in my life not be in vain but be used as a blessing and hope.