1000 questions

I don't know how to begin this. I am so incredibly sad right now, and I don't know how to put all my thoughts in order, but I will try.

Friday we went for the ultrasound. After a few minutes of the sonographer doing some checking and not saying much, I knew something was wrong. I knew it was wrong when she was pointing out the sack, because at 11 weeks the yolk sack should have been gone. And I knew it was wrong by what she didn't say, how she didn't point out the baby, or the heartbeat. That she just wanted to take a few more measurements and then we'd be done. That she didn't ask if we wanted pictures. She did ask us to stay while she called our doctor, who delivered the news that the baby was only measuring at 6 weeks and 2 days. He ordered a blood test to check my HCG levels and we went home to wait for his call. It came at 4:30, and he said that my levels had dropped by more than half. Which made him feel confident that we are miscarrying.

Matt and I are both so sad. I've spent a lot of time crying, and he's spent a lot of time holding me and telling me he loves me. Even though I know its not anything I've done and its not my fault, I feel like such a failure, and I keep wanting to apologize to him. I seem to have lost the ability to make decisions, and so he's been doing that for the both of us. Mainly we are trying to keep busy, because otherwise waiting around for it to start will drive me crazy.

Telling people is exhausting. Mainly their responses fall into two categories. This first are the people who want so badly to do something, and there is nothing to do, and I don't know what to say. The second are the people who share that they, or their wives or sisters or mother had 2 or 3 miscarriages. I know that they share because they know the pain and grief from it, and they are empathizing with what we're going through, but the self-centeredness of me is too weak to think anything other than that the thought of going through this more than one time is horrifying. But I know that more than anything people want to comfort us and be there with us, and that does help.

The only different response has been Matt's brother, Joe. Joe is such an amazing prayer warrier, and he told Matt that he had had a vision before this happened of Mother Mary accompanied by two angels carrying our daughter to heaven. We decided to name her based on Joe's vision, and struggle for a while. The name we'd chosen before for a daughter, Sophia Rose, suddenly didn't fit. And actually naming her at all was hard because it made her all that much more real. We were in the car discussing it, and I thought of the story of Hannah, who had prayed for a child for so long and so hard that the temple priests had thought she was drunk. And when she had the baby, Samuel, she brought him back and gave him to the temple to serve God there. So we decided on Samantha, because we know she is now in God's temple, serving Him and intercessing for us.

Last night was the Pentacost vigil, and even though I first thought it would be impossible to do it, I also knew that Matt was right that this was the best place to be. So I went, and it was good to be there. I know that the Spirit of God was sustaining me through it, and I also know that it was through the prayers of all the people in the several music groups who had come together to do the music ministry, and who knew what we are going through and were praying us through it. After the mass, we went out to dinner with my parents, Hip and Carly, Nate and Kathy, Sarah-Jane, Nick and Danielle. It was good to be with people and be distracted.

Tonight is the final night of Lifeteen, and Matt and I are in charge of it, so we will at least have something to keep us occupied through the weekend. It will be hard to tell this kids, but this is the last "group" that we have to tell, so it will be good to get past that.

I am not avoiding grief. I promise. But I also need to know that we have our lives past this, and that we will continue and survive and be okay. And even though the questions we have about this will probably never be answered, and we'll never know why God allowed this to happen, we know he is with us, and carrying us through. Thomas Aquinas said "a thousand questions do not add up to a single doubt." I am beginning to understand what that means.