Is it March Already??

What a crazy past few weeks! After Snow Week 2015, I was pretty certain that we had seen the end of our dramatic winter weather. Boy, was I wrong! We had yet another day off last week and now they are calling for MORE to come through this week. Sheesh! I'm not one to complain about snow days, but someday, I've got to teach these kids!

Again, besides the crazy weather, I feel like life with the Tanners has been decently uneventful. We made a quick trip to visit my grandma over the weekend, which was about as enjoyable as can be expected. She lives a very country lifestyle that is very different than ours. All I'll say is, she once shot a raccoon, cooked it, and ate it. That should tell you all you need to know about that.

I can't believe that is already March. While I feel like I have been emotionally healing well, I can't help but on occasion do the math in my head and figure out how far long I would be with Bean. The only thing that got me the other day was when someone I know shared her January ultrasound picture. Her baby is due in August, same as Bean was, so the ultrasound picture was most likely taken around the same time as ours. It brought back painful memories of seeing our too-tiny baby and feelings of bitterness for what I don't have. I don't want to take away from anyone's happiness....but it is sometimes really hard to feel joy for someone else when I feel so cheated.

During the past few weeks, I've started thinking about situations like the one above. God willing, we will be pregnant again someday and we will get to experience the joy of parenthood to full term. I will surely want to share my news with others, but will I want to be so "out there" and forward about it? Before we lost Bean, I was planning my big announcement to the world through facebook and email. Now knowing just how common miscarriage is, I'm not sure how I would want to tell my friends. There will likely be someone out there who is going through this exact situation, and I don't want to make anyone feel the way I've felt over the last 7 weeks. It's definitely a scenario I don't believe anyone thinks about until this situation actually happens to them.

**Side note: Don't complain about your baby on social media...or if you do, please complain in private to your mom. I can't stand seeing post about how babies/kids are being difficult or are staying up all night. You have no idea how much I would LOVE to have my baby keep me up all night. Just saying.

Purpose

Today was my post-op appointment. I wasn't overly concerned about going in to the doctor, as I have been feeling empowered this week--much better than last. (Although, let me tell you, being at an OB's office after miscarriage is not the place to hang out.) The exam went very well: the surgery was a success, everything looked great, and I was given the all clear. Also, I had a very good heart to heart with my doctor, which helped alleviate some of my apprehension. (some)

As I was leaving the building,  I paused for a moment to reflect on all of the events leading up to today. It's only been four weeks since I cried in that very parking lot after the first ultrasound. Four weeks. Is that all?? It feels like a lifetime ago we saw our little Bean for the first time. So much has happened in such a short amount of time.

Like I said before, this week I have felt overall better than last. Something I've learned (am learning) through this period of heartache is not allowing myself to dwell about what might have been if we hadn't of miscarried. My morning commutes are often long, so I've been using that as my quiet time to listen and talk with God. I have found myself pondering the "what-ifs" during this time and that is when this revelation was laid on my heart: every life has a purpose, no matter how short or long that life is lived. Although our baby's life was much shorter than what we wanted, Bean's purpose was full-filled in those brief weeks he was with us. There are no 'what-ifs' for his life. Living this is a task easier said than done, but I am working on it!

God is the author of peace, not confusion, even when reality is hard to accept.

Longest. Week. Ever.

Um, yes. Snow dome strikes again. MT teachers are still waiting for our favorite "holiday"....sigh.

What an incredibly LONG week. I don't know if it was the evaluations, the false hope of two snow days, the indoor recess,the full moon, or all of the paper work I've been trying to catch up on.....but holy smokes! Yikes, It's been a crazy one.  All I know is I am unbelievably happy to be in my jammies, and I will gladly stay in them all weekend!

I don't know if it was from the exhaustion, but I have been feeling exceptionally vulnerable this week. I''ll have long periods of times of feeling fine, only to see a facebook post or a commercial....and the next thing I know, the water works are back in full force.

I guess that brings me to my next update (in response to this frequent question): How are you guys doing?

I suppose we are doing as well as can be expected. We are both completely engrossed in our work, which definitely doesn't give either us much time during the day to dwell on our personal stresses. In particular, I have had a bit of an empty feeling this week, and I am attesting that to some serious shifts in hormones. I have felt that every time I turned around this week, I've seen  pregnancy announcements or precious pictures of newborns. Seriously, baby book. Even today leaving work, I watched as a sweet toddler called "mama"  as he toddled around the office. I am tremendously happy (and want to continue to be!) for all friends and others who have been blessed with these littles; however, I am struggling immensely with feelings of bitterness and jealousy. I am praying for peace, comfort, and understanding daily.

We talk about Bean often and discuss our feelings, which I am finding a little easier. I'm still not good at actually speaking about him without crying, but I have found that writing has helped extensively. I am incredibly appreciative for all of the women and families who have reached out to us and shared their own experiences of miscarriage with us. We have felt so encouraged by your words and your stories, and for me personally, you have helped me feel so much less alone.

1 in 4 is not just a statistic: It's me.

New Beginnings

Disclaimer: This post is very honest. The witty wife hasn't been feeling her wittiest.

In 2013, I was determined to keep a blog. We can all scroll down and see how that worked out. I decided in 2015, I was going to pick it up again. I had a lot of exciting things to share and I was eager to begin writing again.

The past year and half has been a whirlwind for the Tanners. We had a big move, I got a new job at a wonderful school, we purchased our first home, and then December 14th, 2014, we found out the best news of all: We were pregnant. Pregnant. Somehow, we were going to be parents. We were having a baby.

Over the moon.

I cannot pen the words to describe the nervous, giddy, euphoria we felt. We shared the news with our families over Christmas and New Years, and with close friends and co-workers soon after. How could we not? Baby Bean consumed my thoughts. We dreamed and planned about the upcoming months and years. We discussed nursery colors and baby clothes. Boy or girl? Blue eyes or brown? Blond or brunette? Strong-willed or easy going? Who will he/she grow up to be? Will he be like his daddy? Will she look like her mommy? Please, God, just let him/her be healthy!

January 15, 2015 was our first prenatal visit. We were scheduled for our first ultrasound. I was almost 11 weeks pregnant. I couldn't wait to have hubby get out his phone so we could make a video of Bean to send to our family. I couldn't wait to take my little printed out picture to work the next day.

The visit was perfect. Everything was looking great. Symptoms were all lining up on schedule. Cramping? Some. Sense of smell? Yikes. Nausea? Double yikes. Yes, that first trimester is a doozy, isn't it.

Then the ultrasound. When I saw the picture on the screen, I knew something was wrong. I know what a 10 week old baby should look like. Why did my baby look so little? Why was he just a little peanut? Maybe she actually needed to zoom in so we could see better? Why couldn't I hear the heartbeat? There was no heartbeat.

The doctor calmly told us that Bean looked more like a 6-7 week old, as she fruitlessly searched for the heartbeat that wasn't there. Was there any chance our dates were off?

I knew then and there. She didn't have to tell me. I've been charting for months. There is no way Bean could be only 6-7 weeks. The dates did not line up. I knew already in my heart that Baby Bean was gone.

We were scheduled for a follow-up ultrasound, but based on the my doctor's sympathetic pats and the nurses sad glances, I could tell they knew the same thing I feared.

I felt like a zombie in the clinic, but I broke down as soon as we got in the parking lot. Again, I'm not sure if I am able to put into words the crushing grief I felt then and feel now. My baby was gone. My baby had died.

Why?

I don't know. And I don't understand.

I don't have much to say about that weekend between ultrasounds. One of the hardest parts was I still felt SO pregnant. I was still so fatigued and constantly naseaous. But feeling pregnant when you know the pregnancy is not viable is heartbreaking: It is a cruel joke. The weekend was emotionally draining, but I am incredibly thankful for my wonderful husband and the solid foundation of our marriage. I know this hasn't been easy for him either. We both wanted Bean so much.

We talked. We cried. We prayed.

And then we cried some more.

At our ultrasound Tuesday, we had our fears confirmed, as we were sure we would. Baby Bean had indeed stopped developing. We had experienced a "missed miscarriage." I wasn't showing any signs of miscarrying naturally on my own, so we opted for the d & c. We were just in desperate need of closure for Bean. I took the week off work and had surgery Friday.

I went back to work yesterday. Physically, I am feeling good. My pregnancy symptoms have almost completely disappeared and my body is healing as it should. Emotionally, I bounce between acceptance, anger, and sorrow. I feel getting back into routine has been good, as throwing myself into work is a good distraction. I do know we are able to move on. This is simply another chapter in our life story and while I do not understand why it happened to us, I firmly believe it was for a reason. That does not mean that makes it all better.

I've decided the pain won't go away, but it will become tolerable. I am taking it day by day.

It's easy to say "It wasn't meant to be" or "It was God's will" or "It'll happen for you in time." While these may be true, these words are empty to a mom that will never hold her baby in her arms. I will never hear him laugh or cry. It doesn't seem fair, because it isn't.

I am thankful for salvation and the promise of heaven. I am thankful that I know our Bean was born into the arms of Jesus, where he never had to experience the fear or darkness of this world. I am thankful that Bean has 6 great-grandparents in heaven, who will hold him and love him until that someday when I will finally get to kiss his sweet face.

I will always remember my first child, my Bean, and cherish those precious weeks I had the privilege of carrying him. He was with us for only a moment, but is in our hearts forever.