Ever since I was a teenager, I have looked forward to the day I would be a father myself. As a younger man, that desire had a lot to do with not repeating the same mistakes raising my own child(ren) that my father made. As I got older, it became more about passing on all the love I have to give, and the knowledge, experience, and wisdom I have gained in my 30 years (so far) on this planet...and of course, I'd still like to avoid the mistakes of past generations.
From a purely selfish perspective, I always wanted to wait a few years and enjoy my new marriage before having kids. However, Althea is a few years older than me, and is already a statistical outlier for a healthy pregnancy, so we had to start trying to get pregnant right after the wedding.
Given those desires, I was so happy when Althea told me she had a positive pregnancy test a couple of weeks ago. When we went to her OB/GYN appointment, the doctor told us her hormone levels were low and that she couldn't see much on the ultrasound, which was a cause for concern, so we made an appointment to come back in a couple of weeks. Unfortunately, we never made that appointment. Over the weekend, Althea started to have bleeding and severe stomach cramps, neither of which are supposed to happen when a woman is pregnant. Althea has one of the highest tolerances for pain of anyone I have ever known, so I knew that it was time to go to the hospital when she was curled up in the fetal position in our bedroom and unable to move.
We called her OB/GYN doctor, and she was so great, helping us even though it was the weekend. She called ahead and cleared the way for Althea to be admitted to the hospital as soon as we got there. We got to the hospital, and Althea got some pain medicine, but the bleeding didn't stop. We stayed the night at the hospital, and Althea was discharged the next day. At her next OB/GYN appointment a couple of days later, the doctor confirmed what we already knew...Althea had a miscarriage. One the one hand, I am glad she wasn't farther along in the pregnancy (i.e., long enough to know the sex, pick out a name, see the baby's features, etc.). On the other hand, it doesn't make me (or us) any less sad. I'm not sure why this happened...the doctor says miscarriages often happen when there will be major problems that might injure, deform, or kill the baby-to-be. I prefer to think that maybe God just needed our baby up in heaven with Him and the angels more than we needed him or her down here.
Regardless of the reason, all we can do is grieve, pray, heal, and try again when the doctor says we can. In the meantime, we will give thanks to God for allowing us to contribute one more beautiful soul to heaven. Even if we didn't get to meet this child here in this life, we will get to meet him or her one day in heaven, and I can't wait.
