A Month

Well, Saturday was officially the four week mark since the miscarriage. That means that a month has passed (it seems like it happened yesterday), and within the next few weeks I should expect a period. Yay! (Seriously, I can't wait to get one!) I am a little apprehensive though, because I recently heard that another girl who had a miscarriage didn't get her period for almost 6 months! Being apprehensive could potentially delay the oncoming of my period though, so I'm trying to just trust God to make it happen when it's supposed to happen. Isn't it odd the things we can trust God with? Like, as if He truly wants to hear about my period. But He created me, so He must care about those things too! I just want to know that my body is functioning as it is supposed to. There's nothing quite like peace of mind.

Help!

When I first found out I was pregnant, I signed up on all these pregnancy sites and for their emailed newsletters. Does anyone know how I can stop them? I don't want to mark them as spam, or block the sender in the case that I want to receive them again in the future. Right now though, they are really depressing, because I get these messages in my Inbox that announce "Congrats Heather, You are 18 Weeks Pregnant Today!" and stuff like that.

Trading My Sorrows

This song popped into my head one day, and I haven't been able to get it out since. It has been a great encouragement to me, and has basically been my prayer since the miscarriage. Listen to it here (purchased legally from Napster).

Trading My Sorrows

By Delirious

I'm trading my sorrows

I'm trading my shame

I'm laying them down for the joy of the Lord

I'm trading my sickness

I'm trading my pain

I'm laying them down for the joy of the Lord

We say yes Lord, yes Lord, yes, yes Lord

Yes Lord, yes Lord, yes, yes Lord

Yes Lord, yes Lord, yes, yes Lord, Amen

I am pressed but not crushed

Persecuted, but not abandoned

Struck down, but not destroyed

I am blessed beyond the curse,

For His promise will endure and

His joy will be my strength

Though the sorrow may last for the night

His joy comes with the morning.

A Tough Day

Most days have been pretty good, but today was a tough one. I had an early morning meeting with a committe I am on, and two of the other ladies on the committee had not heard of my miscarriage. They both asked how the baby was doing, and both times I had to explain that the baby had died. Of course, they felt awful for having mentioned it - but how could they know. At the same time, I felt awful for having to tell them, putting them in a awkward situation where they would feel forced to say something. Oh well. I was proud of myself for not tearing up, and I kept a strong and brave face on. Funny thing is... I actually felt strong and brave too! God is obviously still helping me out - not that I really doubted that He would, but it's nice to reassured.

I've received a couple of booklets and books lately too that have been helpful. One booklet is from Focus on the Family, and it's called "Permission to Grieve". It outlines the stages of grief - which has been good, because it makes me feel "normal".

The other is a book called "Empty Arms". I haven't read much of it - but after reading the first three pages, I thought I was reading my own book! I think it will be a good one too.

A Message of Hope

Click here for a message of PEACE, FAITH, LOVE & HOPE.

Blessed

It is sort of funny I think, that when a tragedy occurs, you suddenly find out how many people really care about you. I always knew that people cared about me, and I've always felt love - but none like the caring and compassion that I've felt in the last couple of weeks.

People that I don't know well have sent me emails, cards, and we've received so many encouraging phone calls. We are overwhelmed with how much support we've received, and each and every word of encouragement is held close to our hearts. We just can't thank everyone enough for standing by us right now - it really, really helps. We fee like we're floating - each prayer, thought, and hand extended in sympathy lightens the load of our grief. In many ways, we are finding silver linings every day. Even though we would still like to rewind time, and have our baby back, we also can see that there are so many blessings that have come during this time. God knows just what He is doing.

I was reading "Travelling Light" by Max Lucado last night. It's a book my Bible study group has been taking, and I decided to re-read the chapter about grief. I'm really glad that I did - it was a good reminder. Our days on earth are numbered - some have fewer days than others. Baby Plett had fewer days than I - and was spared all the earthly grief we often have to bear. I'm thankful for that. It makes me think that the baby must have had such a good spirit, God brought them to Heaven right away.

I'm not really one to think morbidly either. I mean, no matter what one believes, death is never a great thing to think about. However, now I have one more thing to look forward to in Heaven. I already have one baby waiting for me there. Heaven is our eternal home - not earth - and knowing that baby is waiting for me is a great way to remind me not to dwell on earthly things, but to always be looking to Heaven. What a great promise!

Again, I just have to say thank you to all of those who have offered support to us during this time. It means so much, and I can never thank you for how each of you have lifted my heart in one way or another. I love you all dearly, and I can't wait until I can share with you the joys of my "earthly angels", that I am sure are yet to come.

For all of those that have shared about your own miscarriages, my heart goes out to you. It does bring a smile to my face though when I think of all the wonderful children my baby has to play with while they wait for us to come Home. Can't you imagine the amazing playground that Heaven has for all our little angels? I can't wait to see it!

Some Poems...

We cried tears when we learned that a child would be,

that our God had allowed you to quicken in me.

We cried tears with our loved ones as they shared our joy,

and we thought about names for a girl or a boy.

I cried tears as I thought of the things we would do,

all the things that your Daddy would pass onto you.

And I cried as I thought of every inch you had grown,

as I pondered the day that you'd make yourself known.

Then to think of the world you must enter brought fears,

once again little one your Mother cried tears.

Something's wrong, I can tell--once again there are tears,

and I'll not get the chance of your love through the years.

Oh the ache and the sorrow and all of the pain,

and again, yes again my tears fell like rain.

Then His peace comes to me as I think of you there,

gently rocking with Father in His favorite chair.

Your sweet little fingers clenched tight in His palm,

and His Son softly singing to help you keep calm.

Our God knew your days before you came to be,

and He knew little one you would not stay with me.

So, I cry, but I know that when this life is done,

I will greet and embrace you my sweet little one.

There's a time to be born, and a time to die,

and the joy and the sorrow both make us cry!

~Connie Johnson~

*****

My Precious Little Baby,

Your face I've never seen.

Your skin I've never touched before,

Nor held you close to me.

You lived inside my body,

But only for a while;

Till Jesus softly whispered,

"Come home my little child."

You must have been a special child;

If God needed you up there.

Because heaven is a better home,

It's beauty can't compare.

So, till I get to heaven,

And see your shining face;

Jesus will take care of you,

And love you in my place.

Yes, Jesus loves His little lambs,

They sit around His throne;

So sit on Jesus' lap dear child--

Till Mommy gets called home.

~Author Unknown~

*****

Daddy, please don't look so sad,

Mama please don't cry~

"Cause I am in the arms of Jesus

and He sings me lullabies."

Please, try not to question God,

Don't think he is unkind

Don't think He sent me to you,

and then He changed his mind.

You see, I am a special child,

and I'm needed up above

I'm the special gift you gave Him,

the product of your love.

I'll always be there with you

and watch the sky at night,

Find the brightest star that's gleaming,

That's my halo's brilliant light.

You'll see me in the morning frost,

that mists your window pane.

That's me in the summer showers,

I'll be dancing in the rain.

When you feel a little breeze,

from a gentle wind that blows

That's me, I'll be there,

planting a kiss on your nose.

When you see a child playing,

and your heart feels a little tug,

That's me, I'll be there,

giving your heart a hug.

So Daddy, please don't look so sad,

Mama don't you cry.

I'm in the arms of Jesus

and He sings me lullabies.

~Claudette T. Allen~

Time to Head Home

Today is our last full day here in Honolulu, and tomorrow we head home. We will fly to Vancouver tomorrow, stay there overnight, and then make our way home.

I'm still very anxious about coming home, but at the same time I do feel rejuvenated. I believe that it will be emotional to come home, and there will be moments that will be hard to take - such as the many hugs I can anticipate at work, and even just around town. Each one will likely awaken tears, and I'm not the type that likes to cry in front of others. It sort of sounds silly - to not look forward to hugs, and the sympathy of our friends and family. I will appreciate it - but not the emotions that it will bring forth.

A Token of a Mother's Love

Today I bought myself a little token to represent the first little baby Plett. Something that Ryan and I can look at as a presence of the first little person we created together, and who is waiting for us in Heaven. It is a little diamond cross, and although I wasn't sure I should spend money on such a thing, I am already thankful that Ryan made me do it. He bought himself a t-shirt with a "Handy Dad Inc." logo on it, saying "I am still a dad". So we now have some mementos that will be a reminder to us of our little love.

Baby,

In my heart I hold you close, but I have to let you go. This little glittering cross is where I am going to leave you for all the years - to be held close by God, and to be an angel that we know will be around us for all time, until we get to see you face-to-face in glory. We love you little one, and we will not forget you. You were our first love, our first creation, our first miracle. Thanks for making those few months so exciting. We'll miss you, and we promise to tell your brothers and sisters about you. You will never be forgotten, as your brief presence touched our lives and left imprints on our hearts.

Love,
Mommy & Daddy

The Whole Story

It all started last week Wednesday when I started to get a weird discharge. I gave it a coupleof days, thinking it might go away (it was justyellow, with no smell, no other symptoms). On FridayI decided I should get it checked by the doctor beforeleaving to Hawaii, so I called Dr.L and despite being really, really busy, they squished me into her schedule. I figured it was likely a yeast infection,and I'd just have to go out and get a Monistat or something.

Dr.L checked me out, and after looking at everything she said she just couldn't send me off without doing an ultrasound. She said she was really concerned,because she felt the yellow might actually be old blood, and it was coming from my cervix. Everything else was looking normal for 14 weeks though, but we couldn't find the fetal heartbeat again, and that made her think we should do an ultrasound.

I prepared myself for the worst, and Dr.L didn't think we'd be able to get an ultrasound until Monday - so we thought we'd be postponing our flight to Maui. However, they were able to get me in for that afternoon - so off we went.

I was very, very frightened, but I also wanted to get to the bottom of the problem and have peace-of-mind before going to Maui.We did the ultrasound, and the radiologist didn't sayanything for a long time. Finally he said that there was a problem. My womb and everything were the right size for 14 weeks, but the baby was just a little tiny, tiny thing, and it had no heartbeat. Baby had died some time ago, and just forgot to let us know. Now don't depair at this point, there is ALWAYS a light at the end of the tunnel.We were obviously surprised, shocked and upset. The ride home was not pleasant, as I thought about everything I didn't have and would now miss, etc. Lots of tears were shed, and inside I was yelling at God. Why did this happen, why me, what did I do wrong? But at the same time, I knew I did nothing wrong, and this happens a lot, and things would be okay. We'd have more chances to make more babies.

So, on to the next problem - the baby is still inside and it needed to come out. We had three options from Dr.L: We could just wait for the baby to come out naturally. This could take weeks, maybe months, with no guarantee as to when it would happen - so that would mean, no travelling any time soon. Another option would be to try a new method that would have required me to take a pill that would start the process of getting the baby out, but again, no guarantee when and where this would happen. We didn't like those options,because all we wanted at that point was to get away,and relax, and mourn the loss of our first little love. Option three was the D & C. I don't know if you've read about it, or know about it - but it's a surgical procedure to remove everything out of there. Not too fun - but the benefits are it is a day surgery usually, and it would be complete by the end of theday. Dr.L gave us the night to think about it - and also told me she had talked to the gyno at the hospital, and she was a very nice lady (in Dr.L's words "possibly the nicest gyno in the world"). We opted for the D & C, with the hope and prayer that maybe we'd still be able to leave for Maui on Monday.

So, on Saturday morning we left for the city and got to hosptial at about noon. They booked me in, and we got a room all to ourselves. We had no idea how long we'd wait, as we were on a first come first serve basis. It was not a long wait, just an hour and half. In the meantime, the gyno (Dr. B, possibly the world's nicest gyno) came in to talk me. I asked her a million questions, because I was scared to death, and had never had surgery or been under anastetic before. She was SO nice, answered everything, and I felt much,much better. She told me there should be no pain, andI'd feel much like I would with a bad period. Cramps,bleeding and such.

So, two girls came in eventually with a gurney and I got on and they wheeled me all over the place until we got to the surgical ward (Ryan followed along, he wouldn't let me out of his sight my precious babe). Anyway, the anastesiologist (um, spelling? from here on I'll call him the "guy") came and talked to me, and told me the anastetic would be like a "big bottle of Bailey's, with possibly a hangover later". The guy was pretty nice, even though I was freaked out. The surgical ward looked like a dungeon in the basement of the place, and really cold! Thankfully they have a blanket warmer, and they layered me with warm blankets. I know a million people were praying for me, and suddenly, an angel was there. She was a nurse named Val, and she just couldn't have showed up at a better time. She asked if I was Ron and Wendy's daughter, and I said I was. She said, "You look like your mom!". I asked her how she knew them,and she told me she was in my mom's art student. She had gone to Mexico with my parents, and had been at my mom's class in Gimli and also knew Jeanne (my mother-in-law) from art classes. At this point I was being wheeled into the operating room, and she just kept talking to me about my mom - and I was totally at ease. She was amazing. The guy eventually got my IV in, and all the while everyone was talking to me I hopped onto the operating table. The last things I heard were, "You are going to get more and more sleepy... they are putting your legs in thestir-ups now......". And I was out.

Next thing I knew they were waking me up. I was on a gurney again,in a different room, piled high with warm blankets andwearing these AWFUL mesh underwear that were half way down my butt in the back! I was so relieved for it to be over, I truly felt wonderful - and I was just praising God. All I could think about was just getting back to Ryan!

Finally, two girls wheeled me back up to our room where he was waiting for me. We spent a few hours there to recover, and they served me supper (a LOVELY salmon sandwich, weak tea, fat-free pudding and milk). At about 5:30 we were able to go home, and I honestly felt really, really good. It was all over, baby was with God, and we could move on - and likely go to Maui still! We ended up going to a friend's place for the evening to celebrate the New Year - which Ibelieve can only get BETTER from this point onward.

So that is the story of how I found out that the baby had died. For anyone that ever has to face a D & C, or knows someone else who has to, I can say with honesty that it is not too horrible a procedure. It is fast and painless. I had a few days of cramps and pain - but of course we were travelling and flying and that could have made it worse.

Going Home

The latest thoughts I've had recently are related to going home. How will I handle going back home? Once I'm back home I face the even more frightening reality that I am no longer prego. My latest rituals will prove pointless, like taking a daily prepartum vitamin, and my many trips to the fridge for milk, yogurt, fruit, pickles, ice cream... I fear what I may experience emotionally when confronted by others who offer advice and sympathy. I want to be able to appreciate it, but will I be able to handle it emotionally? I wonder how I will handle the pressures of work - and the knowledge that I will not be leaving there in six months as I had thought. And the baby room will stand untouched a little longer, even though I will badly want to implement all the ideas I was having for it. On the bright side, maybe I can take this unprego time to strip and stain a desk I want to use - and spray paint the mouldings as I had wanted them. I may even continue to look for an old-fashioned rocking chair. I was pretty much able to avoid most pregnancy reminders from the time I got home from the hospital to the time we left for Hawaii. I won't be able to avoid them anymore. How will I feel when I put away the little prego figurine we got for Christmas? Or when I pack the few little baby gifts we got? How will I feel when I lie in my own bed at night, and touch my empty tummy? At work I had little prego reminders too, like a list of baby names I was keeping on my desktop, and little notes from friends and family. Do I bother emailing all of the clients again to say that I am not going to be gone in six months - or just let them know on a if-you-ask-me-I'll-tell-you basis? I've been able to get by here in Maui without maternity clothes. What if when I get home I still don't fit my regular clothes, and I have to where maternity clothes still? Remember that part where I said I wouldn't live my life in "what ifs"? These are my what ifs! I don't think I'll dwell on any of this, but rather just grab God's hand and push through it like I have been doing. It feels good to put it down though - just throw all this baggage onto this keyboard and computer screen... basically, I'm just giving it to God. Ever read "Travelling Light" by Max Lucado? Well, right now I'm travelling light. Letting God just take all my baggage and carry it. And He'll carry my what ifs too. And as for Satan trying to sneak in here right now, and make me fear my future, and the future of motherhood that I dream of, well - he is nothing. He is nothing, and he can't scare me, and I won't let him. Enough venting for one day though - life's just too short, and so is our vacation!


-

Baby Talk

This is a recount of my conversation with Emily (my six year-old niece) today while we were out on the lawn, just sitting on a couple of lawn chairs:

"Header," (she doesn't quite have her "th" sound yet) "why do you wear a bading suit but you don't swim?"
"Because when it's this hot outside, I find it cooler to just wear my bathing suit".
"But then why don't you just come swim with me?"
"Well, because I just had surgery a few days ago, and the doctor said I can't swim right now".
"Is that when they took your baby out of your tummy?"

Emily was given an explanation about my baby dying before we got here. She was also told not to say much to me about it unless I talked to her about it "because Heather is sad right now".

"Yes, Em, that's when they took my baby out of my tummy".
"Where is it?"
"The baby? It's in Heaven."
"No, like the real one." (She's SO smart).
"The doctor has the baby."
"Why didn't you keep it?"
"I don't think I could keep the baby."
"Why?"
"Because the doctor needed the baby to do tests to find out why it died. That way we can help so that other people's babies won't die."
"Were you the only person who this happened to?"
"Oh no, this has happened to many, many people. It even happened to grandma."
"It never happened to my mommy."
"No, it never did."
"Did it happen to your mommy?"
"No, it didn't happen to my mommy either."

It's like therapy for me. I love it. It feels so good to talk about it like that. A few days earlier:

Me: "I'm so full. I think my stomach is still squished in there."
Emily: (quietly, with her hand on my arm) "Header, I know 'bout dat".

Bad Things I Want to Happen to Me

My first trimester was really easy, and thinking back I wish it hadn't been. Ever heard "The sicker the mother, the healthier the baby"?

Well, this is a list of all the nasty first trimester pregnancy symptoms I want to have the next time around. Can you imagine praying these things upon yourself?

- The achiest, sorest boobs EVER!
- Constipation (again, but maybe worse this time)
- Bleeding - seems odd right, but I want some mega implantation bleeding.
- Vomit and crazy nausea
- Heartburn
- Breast secretions
- I want to be dead tired
- Darkening areolas
- Cravings for the worst foods ever

There's more, if I think of others, I'll add them.

Reflection

Being here in Hawaii has given me some time to reflect on the last three months of my life. It isn't easy, I will admit to that, but it is not going as badly as I might have imagined. I've had many questions, and many moments of realization ("oh ya, I'm not pregnant anymore"). Some of my questions:

- I know it wasn't my fault, and I didn't do anything to cause this to happen, but what if there WAS something I shouldn't have done? I want to know what that might have been.

- Why? I wanted this. Ryan wanted this. We really, really wanted this. Why does it seem like people who DON'T want it can get it so easily?

- How was I supposed to know? Some people have asked if I sensed the baby stop growing, or if I could tell when it passed. NO! How could I have known? And if I had, do you think I would have just left it for three entire months? Absolutely not. What mother would do that? I don't mind the questions, but seriously now.

- Should I feel more loss than I do? Some people go through more grief than others in this situation. I want to focus my energy now toward my NEXT baby, not the one that went to Heaven. Is this wrong? Should I be more attentive to the loss of this baby? Does it deserve more of my mourning time? Maybe I'm in shock or denial and I don't know it? Maybe this will hit me yet like a tonne of bricks. I don't believe it will, but what if? Life is just full of "what ifs". I'm not going to live life asking myself all the "what ifs".

- How soon can we start again? My first and foremost question. I can't wait to get started again. Ryan feels the same.

May I just say right now that Ryan has been my rock in all this - right next to God. He has been right there beside me the whole way. This could very well be the silver lining in the cloud - we feel closer than ever before. We are so in love, and we just can't get enough of each other right now. He hasn't let me raise a finger, and I just love and appreciate him so much for that. He is truly the one for me. I couldn't be happier.

Some Heavy New Years News

I wish I wasn't starting off the New Year with bad news, but it is the case this time around. I won't go into all the details right now, but rather, I will keep it short and sweet.

On Friday, December 30th, Ryan and I found out that our little baby had passed away some time ago - and hadn't told us. Baby has gone to be with God, and although we are sad, we are both doing fine. We are going to keep our plans to go to Hawaii this Monday, as I had surgery done yesterday and all went well.

Please send a little prayer up for us, and Baby Plett. We love you all, and we know 2006 will only get better from here on in. For those that know us, feel free to call - we are happy to hear from you.