Silent and Alone

Over the past two months, a forlorn silence has preceded life changing moments.  Waking up with intense nausea was my clue to take a pregnancy test on a quiet August morning.  I waited alone in the bathroom and watched with awe as two pink lines quickly appeared.  I ran downstairs to show Jesse.  He stared quietly at the positive test in disbelief.  We had waited ten months for this moment.

Fast forward to the 8 week ultrasound where I awaited the precious flicker of my baby's heartbeat, the baby whom I had loved, prayed for, and spoken to continuously. The eerie silence of the ultrasound technician said a thousand words.  Quiet tears evolved into hysteria as the doctor informed me of my options to end my "non-viable pregnancy". 

Days later landed me on an operating table where I was prepped for a D&C.  The overstimulating hospital lights, sounds, and sensations were all suppressed as I entered an unconscious state.  Waking up with the familiar feeling of having given birth (contracting uterus, cramping, bleeding, exhaustion) without the joy of holding a baby made it difficult to breathe. 

And here I sit with a heavy heart, forsaken.  Waiting for the burden to lift.  Waiting for peace to come.  Waiting for a new reality.  Waiting in silent turmoil...