Emotional Rollercoaster

February was a crazy month. March was even crazier. I've been meaning to update but time keeps slipping away and now that everything is over and done, it seems silly to go back and recount the last two months. But then I feel this constant itch to write it all down, and writing by hand takes too long anymore. And if I'm going to type it up to save time, I might as well post it to my blog. So here we are. I've got to break it up because a lot has happened.

Part 1: Rocky Road
The first week of February I took a pregnancy test, and it came out positive. I was ecstatic. It was all I could do to keep a straight face until Thad got home from work. I slipped a wide smile as I asked him to check something in the bathroom for me. He took one look inside and yelled, “Oh my gosh!” All night I rambled happily... “I can’t wait for this ...” “I’m not looking forward to that ...” The timing was perfect. I couldn’t wait to be pregnant again, to get sick, to carry around a little extra weight in my mid-section (I know; weird, but true), to see the baby’s heartbeat on the ultrasound, to cradle a newborn again. We both went to bed glowing that evening.

The next day I got a call from Thad. “I’m getting laid off at the end of the month.” My heart stopped. Talking over drumming in my ears and the blood pulsing through my chest, I immediately assured him that we’d be fine. We’d get through it. Gone was the excitement over the baby. Gone were the happy moments I looked forward to. I fought against the tears all night, and cried all the morning after. I cried out of fear: fear over being unemployed in this horrible economy. Fear over losing the best insurance benefits we’ll probably ever have. Fear over what lay ahead for our family. I cried out of sorrow: sorrow over losing my Layton friends when their husbands get transferred to the next job. Sorrow over losing the comforts of a constant income, over having to use our savings to live off of instead of putting it toward a home down payment.

After about a week the shock wore off and we got to work. There were insurance policies to comb through, health coverage rates to compare, resumes to touch up and send out, contacts to call, friends to network with, workshops to attend. Once we came to grips with what was happening, things seemed to be looking up. And we still had the baby ...

And then came Valentine’s Day. We were headed out the door on our way to church when I started cramping. It was intense, and I knew something was wrong. Then I bled. A lot. I called the doctor. I cried. I skipped church, and felt helpless just sitting on the couch waiting. I knew I had miscarried at six weeks and there was nothing I could do.

My thoughts raced ... First Thad, and now this? At least with the pregnancy I had something positive to look forward to, and now that’s gone too. We tried for nine months with Analyn, and it felt like forever. It was such a blessing to get pregnant so quickly this time. All for nothing now. We’ll have to start all over, and who knows how long it will take the next time. And now my kids will be almost three years apart and they’re not even going to be friends! (I know, that last thought was a bit irrational).

The following day I wallowed in self pity. How can you just be pregnant one moment, and the next, not be? It feels wrong. It feels weird. It feels unfair. But at the same time I know that Heavenly Father knew what He was doing when he sent that little baby down. And for some reason, He took that little baby back. And soon enough, I’ll get another little baby. And everything will be fine.