Not What I Was Expecting

Okay, so it's been about 2 years 🙈🙊...

Much has changed. 

I am a married woman as of October 11, 2021, which is HUGE because...well...if you know me or know my story, you probably know that for many years I did not believe this would ever happen. AND because...as my brother so lovingly put it at the wedding, "I always thought to myself, if there is someone that can put up with Gabby, that is a gift from God". It's true. But now, I have an amazing husband who loves and serves me so well even when I am difficult, which is most of the time. 

I have a new last name. Geleta. I discovered that changing said last name is INCREDIBLY DIFFICULT and tedious. And no matter how many things I think I have updated, I keep finding more. I just keep a copy of our marriage license on me now just in case.

I discovered that marriage is hard. I mean, yes, I had heard that before. But it's one thing to hear something...and another to experience it for yourself. And then you have those couples who make it look like everything is butterflies and roses. Whatever. 

IT IS H A R D. 

It's hard being undone. 

Holding my tongue. 

Being wrong. 

Heck, being right. 

Being vulnerable. 

Staying vulnerable.

Trusting. 

Letting and keeping my guard down. 

Allowing myself to be loved. 

Sometimes, being affectionate. 

Sharing what's REALLY on my heart and mind. 

Sharing, in general. 

Sleeping in the same bed with someone when you've been used to sleeping by yourself and you are INCREDIBLY sensitive to sounds. My husband, Asrat, says he is still learning how to sleep without breathing- poor guy 😂.

ANYWHO, it's been hard. If you ask him, he will tell you the same. We've had many arguments, shed many tears. But thankfully, we have many friends and mentors who we have been quick to reach out to for support, guidance, advice, prayer. That has been so key and was one of the first things we discussed while on our honeymoon...that whenever we are in trouble or struggling, we will NOT try to deal with it on our own. We will be humble and transparent and let others in so that we can also let Him in to deal with us. We are two very independent, hard-headed, and broken people desperately in need of His help to be one. 

I guess I thought it would be easy. But I can't think of much worth having that was easy to come by. I have learned so much in the past few months. Mostly, how terrible my attitude and behavior can be. It's easy to hide that when you are mostly on your own and only deal with others in your life in doses- at church, lunch, dinner, in passing in the house. But when you have to not just live with, but DO LIFE with someone....yowzers. 

ALL the ugly comes out. And it ain't pretty. I am so thankful there is grace for my ugly and that He is working on me. I know He will be working on us for our entire lives. We have been told by many older and wiser couples that you never arrive and that there is ALWAYS work to be done, work that only He can do. If we continue to allow Him.

Two months into being married, I suddenly one night felt incredibly nauseous and called my sister who told me to do a pregnancy test. My period was late, so that was also something that had me wondering. I did the test and whaddya know...two lines. I didn't even see the second one at first. Joelle, who is more experienced at pregnancy tests than I, saw it...through Facetime. 

I told my husband, my mom...(who told the WHOLE WIDE WORLD)...and a few people at church...okay, and work. I may take after my mom more than I like to admit in this regard lol. 

I was excited. Thrilled. And terrified. We weren't exactly planning to get pregnant this early in our marriage...I have no idea how that happened 😐. I would go from super excited to super anxious and back again. There was so much we were still trying to take care of and learning about one another...was it too soon? Would we be okay? 

We went to Washington state to visit my sister and brother-in-law (AND ADORABLE NEPHEW) over Christmas and New Year's. We ALL got COVID. And then the nausea began. AND AN INTENSE ABSOLUTE DISGUST AND HATRED FOR COFFEE. The smell. The sight. The sound. Yes even the sound of coffee brewing. The thought. I never experienced anything like that before...I LOVE coffee!!

 Other things also started to make me sick. Chicken. Eggs. Tuna. Fish. Ginger. Anything I tried to eat more than...once. When we returned home, we basically got rid of all things that required cooking and I made my poor husband starve while I lived off of poptarts, crackers, cream of wheat, chicken pot pies, canned soup and jello. And sometimes pickled okra. 

I don't know who came up with the term "morning sickness", because my "sickness" was ALL DAY and NIGHT. Sleeping was miserable. Mornings were worse. Even looking at some things made me nauseous. And if I had been in a place for a while or multiple times while feeling nauseous...the thought of going to that place, made me nauseous. 

The nausea began to subside at about week 8 or 9, which I just thought meant that I was nearing the end of the first trimester. I could see the light at the end of the tunnel! My first prenatal appointment was on February 4th, week 10. We had been looking forward to this with our whole hearts. 

Because of COVID, Asrat had to wait in the car and he had worked the night before so he was exhausted! I went in and met with the midwife and a student midwife, excitedly answering all of their questions. The student completed the initial handheld ultrasound and could not see anything or hear a heartbeat, which she assured me was not an issue because she was new at this and I was only 10 weeks. 

The midwife suggested I do an actual ultrasound while there just to confirm everything is as it should be. As the technician worked the machine, I could see the screen. I didn't really know what I was looking at. It looked like a big black hole. With not much inside. Finally, she saw something. I asked if that was the baby and she informed me that it was, but that it was measuring only 7 weeks in size and there was no heartbeat. My heart dropped. I felt my throat begin to close up. She went to get the midwife while I got dressed. 

By the time she came in, I was already sobbing. She explained to me that the baby was gone, that it had passed around week 7. She explained a lot of other things too...something about a pill and inducing labor and checking HCG levels. It's all a blur. I was in shock. She was really sweet about it...she said she was sorry, that she knows this was not what I was expecting. 

I told her we were going to Louisiana on vacation the next day. She said I could wait and see if the baby passed naturally while we were away and if not, I would need to call them when we return. 

I went out to the car...trying to hold in my tears. Of course the day prior to and the day of the appointment, Baltimore was in a giant rain cloud, no sun to be seen...sad weather for a sad day. I got in the car and burst into tears telling him we lost the baby. He sobbed. We wept together for a few minutes and then called my mom who encouraged us to reach out to our pastors. 

All I could think about at that particular moment was that I wanted pancakes. I could not think beyond that. I would not allow myself to. So we went to Bob Evans and I let my boss know I would not be returning to work. We cried all over our pancakes. They were good. Something about knowing the baby was no more, seemed to dissipate the nausea, or perhaps that was just the grace of God. I even drank coffee. And enjoyed it.

I went home and cleaned. Suddenly, the dishes needed washed. Laundry too. Crums needed picking off the floor. Everything in the fridge needed to be thrown away. All the counters needed wiped. The microwave too. 

Our pastors came over later that day and spent time with us. Encouraged us to grieve. To feel. To not feel guilty about thoughts and feelings we had, would have, or perhaps wouldn't have. They allowed us to cry. They counseled, listened to and prayed for us. 

I began to text friends and family who knew we were pregnant to tell them the news and ask for prayer. We received such encouraging messages and offers to bring meals, to help in any way they could. I thought I would feel embarrassed for having told people so soon only to find out the baby didn't make it, but instead, I felt strength. I felt supported, loved, and seen.

I couldn't imagine going through this without being able to acknowledge what happened, without being able to talk about it. 

When Asrat went to work that night, I went to my grandmas. I just wanted to sit with my grandma and be. It felt good. Sleep was hard that night. Every time I woke up I remembered. There is no longer life inside. This life we had been so excited about for so many weeks...it's not there, only, it still is. Limbo. How do I process that?

I cried most of the plane ride to Louisiana. The time there was cathartic. It was easy not to think about things while with family and friends. While showing my husband new places, where I grew up. Running outside again after so many weeks of not feeling up to it...and the weather!! 60-70 degrees. HEAVEN. 

I began to dread returning to Baltimore. The thought of it made me nauseous. The picture that came to mind every time was dark and dreary....rain clouds and big, black holes. It's amazing what our minds can do. The connections they make. How these connections can induce such strong physical and emotional responses.

Alas, the day came to return. The baby still had not passed naturally. While we were in Louisiana many people were praying for us, a few praying that the baby would be brought back to life. I prayed this prayer too. Along with "Lord, I believe. Help my unbelief". I know He is able. It's still hard because though He is able, sometimes He still chooses not to. And even then, He is good. He sees the big picture. His will is always best. Even when we don't understand and cannot see.

I called the women's clinic first thing Monday morning and was told that it was time to take the medication. That the longer I wait, the higher the risk for infection. I had heard a few horror stories by this point about this medication. And the fact that they offered me narcotics scared me even more. I asked about getting another ultrasound. They said it was possible, but since the first one confirmed the diagnosis...insurance would not pay for another and they weren't sure if they would be able to get me in this week to have one done.

After discussing with my husband, we decided not to get another. And my heart struggles because though I know what the first one showed, what the doctors say...I fear that by not doing so, I am somehow killing my baby who as far as I know is already dead. Last night, someone(s) we trust very much re-assured us that God's grace covers, that there is no right or wrong answer here...that though He is fully capable of healing, sometimes He doesn't. And this got me thinking of something my grandpa said...perhaps the baby not making it is somehow in itself a gift. We don't know and may never know why it did not continue...perhaps something was wrong with the baby and if the pregnancy would have continued, there would have been problems down the road. Regardless, His grace is sufficient. We are clinging to this.

Sleep last night was hard to come by. Then, in the middle of the night, this song popped into my head. I have not heard this song since I was about 10 years old. My dad used to play it: Mourning Into Dancing by Ron Kenoly:

It has been in my head ALL DAY. If you listen you will hear that it is a very happy, upbeat song. I never knew you could feel joy and sorrow at the same time, both so intensely. As I drove to and from work I sang and danced to this song, intermittently laughing and sobbing uncontrollably. I probably looked like a crazy person. I repeated it over and over again on my 5 mile run after work, having to stop a few times to cry and worship. I try to sing another song and somehow it keeps turning into this one:

He's turned my mourning
Into dancing again
He's lifted my sorrows
I can't stay silent
I must sing
For His joy has come

Where there once
Was only hurt
He gave His healing hand
Where there once
Was only pain
He brought comfort
Like a friend
I feel the sweetness
Of His love
Piercing my darkness
I see the bright
And morning sun
As it ushers in
His joyful gladness

You've turned my mourning
Into dancing again
You've lifted my sorrows
I can't stay silent
I must sing
For Your joy has come

I have these pills. And I know I need to take them in the next few days. It's hard to find a "good" time to do so. I want to go to prayer and worship at church tomorrow evening, so I will wait till after that. I don't know what will happen or perhaps won't happen. Apparently, it's different for everyone. 

I do know that this hurts. This has not been fun. It's crazy how much it can hurt losing someone you never met. I have a lot of fear about trying again- whenever that may be. BUT then I remember....the very fact that I was pregnant in and of itself is a miracle. Where I am and who I am today is a miracle. Same goes for Asrat. He brought us this far...and He will keep us. He knows what He is doing.

It's hard because you don't hear many people talk about it. I never knew how often it happens. Society tells us that it's not a big deal especially if it happens early on, but that's not true. I think I believed that too- to some degree- before experiencing it myself. No matter how far along...the grief is still present and it sucks. But He is so good and so near and He cares for the 2 week in the womb baby just as He does the 2 year old toddler running around. And He cares for our hearts.  

We named her Liya Ayana. Liya means "One who is with God" and Ayana means "pretty flower". I still want to paint her room purple. We're totally getting her name tattooed. We can't wait to meet her one day in heaven. And until that day...I know she is being cared for and loved better than we ever could. 

And oh how we do.  And always will.

This was not what we were expecting. But then again, is anything ever? 

We will continue to trust Him in and through every season. 

You have turned my mourning into joyful dancing. You have taken away my clothes of mourning and clothed me with joy, that I might sing praises to you and not be silent. O Lord my God, I will give you thanks forever! Psalm 30: 11-12

PS: some wonderful friends sent us a care package from Rachel's Gift and a book called unexpecting by Rachel Lewis. After experiencing a few miscarriages herself and not being able to find much in the way of support or answers to her many questions, fears, her heart cries, she promised she would write the very book she was looking for. I have not finished it yet, but it has been SO helpful. God has ministered to me so much through reading it. I highly recommend it if you or someone you know has experienced the loss of a baby.