The Approaching Storm...

4.8.14

I took the day off. Even though nothing was final, I needed time to process things on my own prior to being forced to face the world.

I woke up the next morning, still very tired from the crying the night before, and I fell to my knees and I prayed.

I spent the day watching kiddie shows--no, Matthew was not home with me, but I needed an outlet to escape reality...escape the grown up world with all of its looming problems and issues and sadness...

My husband---lovely man that he is---approached me after I woke up the next morning. He had been up all night, and he gave me his theory: the doctors are wrong. He had calculated things, and said my cycle does NOT follow the perfect 28 day cycle, and that I needed to go back and read the notes I took when we were trying.

He was right: I have my cycle every month, but never the same time each month.  For instance, last July, my cycle happened the first week, but the next cycle came on at the END of August, then the next one, came in the middle of September, and so on.  So some months, my cycle was 33 days, some months it was 22 days, etc.—but rarely did it fit the mold of a typical 28 day cycle.

Then I pulled out the app and looked at the notes I taken there within the app: March 2nd was when I first had cramps outside of my cycle. According to what I read, that should have been implementation cramping since it was exactly within the 6-12 day window of when it should happen. March 5th was the first home pregnancy test I took. March 7th was the primary care doctor where she did a pregnancy test. March 9th was my first actual missed period IF my cycle went according to plan.

According to his count, I was 5 weeks, 1 day, and from what he had found on the internet, that would make what they found on the ultrasound correct for that time frame.

He had read the stories of other women online stating that 5 weeks, 4 days they were told there was no fetal pole either, but when they went back at 6 weeks, there was the beginning of the baby.

That gave my heart hope. Precious and frail, but still hope none-the-less. If his calculations were right considering I don't have a typical 28 day cycle, then things would make sense--I was 5 weeks 1 day, and therefore nothing would have been seen for me either if it was not seen for the woman who was 5 weeks, 4 days on the internet.

This gave me hope, but cautious hope. I had already begun the process of mentally detaching; of hoping for the best, but preparing for the worst—I had to… In my mind, I accept that my blessing here, was that God worked a miracle, and allowed me to become pregnant—I had already defied the odds.  Already proved that God has the final word, not the doctors.  Maybe not this time, maybe next time…but in my heart, I wanted it to be this time so bad.  In my heart, I was NOT ready to let go just yet, and so my husband’s words…spoke directly to my heart, and gave it hope and comfort.

Truth be told, my mind knew that my husband was reaching.  My mind knew the worst was yet to come. My mind knew that without uncertainty, the storm was approaching, and I did not know how long the winds would blow, and the rains would fall. 

But even still, I tried to prepare my heart…I began to build the walls that would hopefully protect me from my worst fears….but now, I had to make it through a week before I could find out anything else…but even with that, my poor heart was not ready to give up the fight yet…