Sarah started bleeding about two hours ago. Our day started off really well - some friends we hadn't seen for over a year were down to have breakfast with us. We told them our great news because we wanted to tell them in person - see their reaction and enjoy how normal couples react when they tell each other they are pregnant. It seems that they may be the last people that we tell that we are pregnant for quite some time.
We were in church. Sarah had to go to the toilet - not unusual since we'd been out for breakfast and I don't recall her going prior. I was having a great time singing along. Then Sarah came back and told me that she wanted me to come with her. That couldn't be good news. And it wasn't. We've contacted our clinic and they told us that Sarah needs to rest and put her feet up, and tomorrow when the clinic is open again they will talk to us and get Sarah to have some blood tests, and arrange for everything else that needs to happen.
We are both devistated, but we've been told to continue to take the estrogen and progesterone. I know there is a small chance that it is not a miscarriage, but Sarah has had significant bleeding, not simply spotting. It doesn't look good. But referring to my post a little less than two weeks ago - only God can keep our embryo safe - but if he doesn't then I have to trust him that he knows best.
Only yesterday we went up town to look at cots, bassinets, push chairs, and all those other baby things - and even a camcorder - to capture all those special moments...
We both cry completely randomly. But just now I feel the pain, but there is a significant feeling of numbness. I think that completely without really thinking about it I may have compartmentalised myself as a form of protection from this pain. When it was obvious what the situation meant it was like my world stopped spinning. The momentum that we'd built up in believing this pregnancy would end cheerfully meant that we found ourselves being thrown against the figurative windshield in our pregnancy vehicle and we hadn't been wearing our seatbelts... Now I look around and can only see the carnage. Everything that felt right and made sense this morning is shattered glass and mangled wreckage. Someone we love and cherish - my son or daughter is possibly dead or dying, and right now I don't quite know what to do with that.
So please pray for us, and for our Emby. There is a chance - however small - that it may be ok in the end, but hope is not something either of us feel when can grasp for at the moment. Please just pray.