On October 15th, I found out I was pregnant. A definite surprise, but such a welcome one. For a week or two, this was my little secret. God and I shared this secret.
I told Timmy via text message picture of a dinner roll in the oven. A bun in the oven. Our surprise.
I dreamed of how I would share our news with our family and friends we were overjoyed and so in love.
I went to the doctor and was given a due date towards the beginning of June. Bloodwork was drawn and ultrasound appointment was scheduled. I couldn't wait to share my joy.
This week was my appointment. I am(?) 11.5 weeks pregnant. The baby in the ultrasound, the baby in my belly, measured 7.5 weeks... without a heartbeat. Our baby, our joy, our surprise, died within the last few weeks.
Bleeding has started, but a D&E has been scheduled for Friday. What a Black Friday we'll have this year.
Pre-op was done this morning for my 4-5 surgical procedure this year. At least they'll be putting me completely under this time. I couldn't bear to be conscious while my (dead) baby is ripped from my body.
Please pray for us during this time. When I'm ready to talk about this in person, I will.