Writing this was good for my soul

• I'm not entirely sure how to start this post, but I have such an intense desire to write-it-out-so-that-it-will-stop-rattling-in-my-head that I'm just gonna start it and see where it goes. Bullet-style, of course. 
• This past week, I joined a club that I never wanted to be in- the Moms Who Miscarried Club. They are a strong, yet sad group of women that never wanted to join the club either. I'm sure they all thought it would never happen to them, and yet they find themselves looking at other pregnant women a bit differently and deleting pregnancy apps off their phone and hiding any baby stuff they might have accumulated since they first saw the two pink lines in the bathroom.
• Also, hey I've been pregnant for the past 10 weeks. I had a much cuter way of announcing this- something more Pinterest-y and less depressing.
• I initially went to the clinic at the post here, but if history has taught us anything, it's that no one knows what they are doing at this "medical facility", so after having blood drawn and my lady bits poked with a nerf gun flashlight, it was concluded that I should go see a real doctor in Seoul.
• I did more bloodwork in Seoul and waited around for my appointment with the OB. I was honestly expecting him to tell me to keep an eye on the spotting, but that everything looked ok.
• The OB (Korean) came in and did an internal ultrasound. He pointed to the tiny screen and asked us what we saw. He asked us if we thought that looked good. He asked us what we thought that meant. Having no background in radiology, I knew not what I was looking at. Hell, I can look at a fully developed baby on an ultrasound and still have no clue what I'm staring at. So this little game of 20 questions was not amusing to me. The language barrier wasn't helping.
• I love Korea. I truly truly do. But right then, I just wanted to talk to someone whose first language was English. I didn't want to have to comprehend his words and accent while also trying to comprehend the medical things he was telling us.
• So after very little guidance and a lot of insensitive remarks (that I am trying to chalk up to "lost in translation"), we left the hospital and headed home. Time to wait for my body to "do its thing."

 

My first and last photo of our third baby

• I expected the process to take quite some time (or so Doctor Google said), so I knew I couldn't just sit at home and wait for it to happen. The kids would make me crazy. I would make myself crazy. So we continued on with our regularly scheduled activities and went to Seoul to see Aggie and her kids for the day. As soon as we got to her apartment though, I knew that it was happening. I feel terrible that I basically threw my kids at her as I ran to the bathroom, but Aggie is one of those friends that you'd want to be around if something major like that is going on in your life. So in between bathroom trips, we watched the kids play, talked with Aggie's psychotic neighbor, witnessed Levi sneeze two macaroni noodles out of his nose, sang Happy Birthday, ate cupcakes, and tried to keep all of the children from catapulting themselves from the trampoline couch onto the floor. To say that being at her house and having these distractions was great would be a massive understatement. I am so blessed by her friendship and support.
• Emotionally, I'm still not really believing any of this. I think my mom was a bit shocked when we facetimed the other day and I wasn't mopping the floor with my tears. This lifestyle won't allow it. But I do believe my brain is somehow protecting me from jumping off into the deep end of dark emotions.This pregnancy wasn't announced to many- only a few friends, most of them being here in Korea. The day I found out I miscarried, the photo books announcing the pregnancy to our families were shipped. So for quite some time, since our families didn't know, the pregnancy itself didn't even feel real to me. I know I'm in the minority here, but I have no pregnancy symptoms other than getting incredibly fat. (I know, lynch my chubby self now!) So I never noticed any loss of pregnancy symptoms that would lead me to believe I could miscarry. I still can't believe it happened to me. I've never had an issue getting pregnant and both of my pregnancies were so uneventful that a doctor might yawn while looking over my patient history. I know "every pregnancy is different" but I'm still me. I thought my body was good at pregnancy and birth. Now that it has somehow failed leaves me feeling like I am in need of fixing.
• It has also been a big ol' slap in the face that, whether I want to dwell on it or not, life goes on. The laundry does not give a shit that I just had a miscarriage yesterday. The kids won't magically fix their own breakfast because I don't want to get out of bed. The whining doesn't stop because I need a minute to myself. Life. Goes. On. These little people need attention and some sort of nutrition, and it's my job to give it to them. And so I will.
• Steve has been great, as usual. He missed time at work so he could be with me at appointments and help with the kids. He tells me that I should probably eat some fudge, that my maxi pads make my butt look good, and that God has a plan for us. I know He does, but it comforts me so much more when those words come out of my husband's mouth. I love that I get to do life with him.
• Also, a huge shout-out to Alicia, who let Molly nap (scream/nap) and play at her house while we went to the doc in Seoul. I know Molly's fear of that hospital is real and having her miss naptime so she can sit with us at a doctor's office is my idea of hell on earth. Having Sam record the entire vaginal ultrasound with my iphone was quite enough. I am seriously so thankful for such helpful friends. 
• So anyways, that's what's been happening around here. My heart is broken, my womb is empty, but my arms are full- I can still read all of my kids' favorite books to them and give them gummy bears when I'm not supposed to and crack a fart joke to make Steve laugh. Life goes on.