Musings Of My Fall Memories....

15 years ago this fall I had a tubal miscarriage.

At the time, I had no idea. 

I just remember having a lot of abdominal pain. Sort of like gas pain that just wouldn't go away?

It lasted for a couple of weeks. It started the last part of October as I distinctly remember having this pain while hosting Halloween parties as my children's room mother and during our anniversary dinner November 2nd.

I went to a general doctor sometime in October and he told me I was constipated. 

How embarrassing.

 I went home and administered my first and only enema and yet the pain persisted. 

Then I started bleeding. 

After ten days, I contacted my OBGYN who had me come in for a pregnancy test.This was sometime the first week of November?

A pregnancy test? Did they hear what I said....I'd been bleeding for ten days! 

I went in.

I was pregnant. 

Oh, how I wanted this baby.

I had had such a witness when I delivered our third child, Devree that there was another child waiting. I can't explain it and I tried to talk Heavenly Father into giving me twins right there and then because I knew James wasn't going to want to hear this. But I had only my little Dev. I took her home and James exclaimed something to the effect, "It's so nice to have everyone here, finally!" I had to break the news, everyone was not here. I told him not to panic, I didn't want to get pregnant tomorrow and that I'd wait for him to come around.

I waited.

It took a couple of years?

Anyway, back to my story. 

I was told to go home, put my feet up and come back in two days for another test to see if I was losing the baby. I had to make a stop at the hospital for a shot due to me being O negative and the nurse assured me that "Lots of moms bleed".

Really?

Having done this three times already - I knew in my heart of hearts, this was not a good sign.

My sister - pregnant with her first baby - assured me she would take care of me if I had to be on bed rest my entire pregnancy. 

Our babies would be four months apart. 

I went in two days later and the worst was confirmed. I was losing the baby. I was told to watch for some "tissue" to pass. 

I was devastated. 

Although I only knew about this little person for a couple of days I just felt so sad. I remember thinking I would never be happy again. 

I just cried and cried. 

And nothing passed.

And I kept bleeding......

So back to the doc's I went this time for an ultra-sound. Now I'm not only sad, I'm angry. I didn't want to sit in a room of happy, pregnant women waiting with full bladders to catch a glimpse of their living babies when I knew mine was gone. I told the nurse I would only come if I was the first one to go back for the ultra sound.

When they called another lady before me, James had to convince me to stay and physically keep me in my chair. I was ready to walk out. 

Once I got back there with my angry, sad, bladder ready to burst self, the ultra sound tech found a 5cm mass next to my right ovary. (My baby had conceived in my fallopian tube.) They were floored that I wasn't in more pain? And begin to make plans for immediate surgery. After examining me the doctor decided that since I  was handling the pain so well that they would remove "the mass" chemically with medicine used for chemotherapy patients that would break up "the mass" and allow it to travel down my fallopian tube and eventually pass. This would reduce the risk of losing my tube. 

They neglected to tell me how this WOULD  cause me to be doubled over in pain for the week and that I'd continue to have blood draws every other day until enough of "the mass" had passed.

A 30 day ordeal from start to finish.

At one point I couldn't even walk into the hospital for my blood draw. James had to push me in a wheel chair. 

It was a long cold November.

Eventually, I did get pregnant again and just a year and a few months later I gave birth to our youngest and precious daughter, Rylee.

But every fall afterwards, when the sights and smells of Autumn or Halloween would roll around, I would get so melancholy.
Remembering Benjamin. (That's what we would have named him - assuming he was a he? )
 The little baby that didn't make it.....

Until five years ago.

Five years ago at this time, I was preparing to meet a ten year old orphan boy from Ukraine. He was flying here with a group of children from his orphanage for a three week hosting program through the Save A Child Foundation. He was to arrive October 18th. I had spent the weeks prior to his arrival shopping for a little boy I'd never met. 

I spent hours in the stores trying to figure out what  to buy. What size does he wear? What color would he like? Is this too babyish? Will he want briefs or boxers? Why are these boys pajamas so loud and obnoxious?
Oh. My. Goodness. What am I doing?
See this post for more info.

I was so involved in preparing for him and having him in our home that I totally missed my sad, morning season.

This year it dawned on me that every fall since meeting this boy, when the leaves start to turn, and the air gets crisp, I no longer morn and feel sad, instead I have an INSANE desire to go shopping!
Shopping for this little boy.....

  Who is now my not so little boy....

Alex Benjamin Richhart.



PS I still think of the little baby I lost but the raw pain and hurt I've felt every fall has healed but that's not to say I've forgotten, just that I don't feel broken anymore.
I am a firm believer that a child's spirit is there upon conception and that in the next life I will meet this child that only needed to live for days inside me. I will know this child,  this child will know me and will call me mom and be mine for eternity.