Our First Year

Tomorrow marks the big "One Year" anniversary. It's crazy to think that literally at this time last year, I was frantically stripping roses of their thorns and leaves as I prepped and put together all the flowers. My biggest stress was trying to get everything done "just right" so that everything looked "perfect" for our wedding. Well, about 12 hours later and a few glasses of wine later, I threw out all inhibitions about the flowers looking "perfect" so to speak. The last night of my single life, I laughed and forgot about caring how 'perfect' everything 'needed' to be. That night became one of my many lessons on learning to just 'let things be'. Getting married wasn't about the dress, the shoes, the rings, the flowers, or any quirky aspects of the bridesmaid bouquets.

Getting married was about the commitment before God, our families and friends, and to each other. So much of that day is a blur. The more vivid memories still bring a smile to my face and one of those tears of joy in my eyes. I am thrilled that we will finally get to enjoy our cake tomorrow. Well, not the original, a recreation is in order.

This has been a fast paced and slow paced year. Doesn't quite go together, huh? Our honeymoon felt so much longer than just a week, while the first few months just disappeared. When you are getting ready to get married, so many people, books, and articles tell you how your first year is always the toughest or roughest. Two months ago, I would have told you this was a dirty lie as far as our marriage is concerned.

We had probably one of the hardest two year engagements. A month into our engagement, my dad separated from my step-mom, the following spring they were divorced. Roughly eight months before the wedding, we lost one of my grandpas. A month after that we lost one of my grandmas. Literally on the six month countdown mark, we were sitting in my grandma's church at the end of her memorial service when someone started playing "Only Hope". That song instantly brought tears to my eyes because it was the song I would be walking down the aisle to, and grandma wouldn't be there to see it. Aside from the losses I was trying to cope with, trying to plan a large event brought along a fair share of tumultuous days of bickering about the most mundane of things.

But I remind you: I said two months ago I would have said the first year is not the hardest. Probably the only thing that brought any real 'fights' was the topic of children and when to start having them. They weren't even real fights, just the only discussion we didn't see eye to eye on whenever it ended. Three months ago, after one of the discussions, we finally came to an agreement: we would stop trying to analyze every aspect of the topic and we would put our trust in God. We would 'let it be' and if we were blessed to get pregnant, it wouldn't be because one of us wanted it more than the other or one felt pressure from the other. A new sense of togetherness came from putting our trust in God.

Six weeks ago we found out I was pregnant. The sheer joy and elation we felt put us on the moon. We couldn't wait to tell our families and friends. I was naive enough to think that since I hadn't had any reproductive problems before, I wouldn't now, so why wait for the end of the first trimester? We were settling in nicely to preparing our home, ourselves, and my body in particular. We checked out tons of books from the library, wandered through the baby stores, and surfed the web for all things baby. As pregnant hormones go, I was an emotional rollercoaster. One minute laughing, the next crying, I even had an episode of hysterical crying and laughing at the same time because I realized how ridiculous the whole situation was I happened to be upset about. The heartburn sucked. Nothing helped it. But that seemed to be my only issue. No nausea, no morning sickness. There went my naivety up a few notches thinking I would have an easy pregnancy.

A little over three weeks ago, my world turned upside down. A trip to the immediate care center near my house brought about blood tests and an ultrasound. The following day came impersonal phone calls from my doctor's office reporting my hormones were low, too low for how far along I was. And the ultrasound. "No sign of pregnancy." Those were the words from the medical assistant over the phone. She said it could just be from how low my hormones were.

More bloodwork ordered. No doubling in hormones occurred, which should have. Confusion. An exam scheduled. More bloodwork. Hormones nearly doubled. Another ultrasound. No sign of ectopic but still not showing any pregnancy because my hormones were still too low. Tissue sample taken and tested. Results came back that it was just uterine lining, still no idea what was going on. Another blood test. Hormones dropped. Call from my doctor. Definitive miscarriage.

I was driving to work. Literally, on the on-ramp to I-5. I was alone. Patrick was in Bend. I didn't know what to do. Tears welled up in my eyes. And then it overcame me, the balling, the uncontrollable stream of tears blurring my vision as I pulled into the employee parking lot. Frantically called Patrick to tell him our incredibly awful news. Tried to call my HR manager, no answer. Tried calling my supervisor. No answer. Called my front desk, sobbing and barely getting anything intelligible out. My co-worker came running to the parking lot, finding my supervisor along the way. I somehow pulled myself together, got the tears to stop and my breathing back to somewhat normal. I wouldn't be working that day.

As I headed out of the parking lot, I called my mom and begged her to come to my house. I managed to burst into hysterics again. How I got home safe and didn't cause a wreck is beyond me.

A week later brought about another blood test. Gotta check to see how much further the hormones have dropped. Following morning, I got a call from the doctor's office again. My hormones hadn't dropped. Another appointment scheduled. I knew in the pit of my stomach this couldn't be good. The doctor came in and said I was a mystery. My hormones had jumped back up. This wasn't a good sign. Two options: a D&C or a shot traditionally given to cancer patients. I went the non-invasive route - the shot. I had my lab order in hand and made the mistake of reading it. "Incomplete Abortion". Really? Like I chose this? Like I even believe in abortion? They couldn't write "incomplete miscarriage"? Since the shot, more blood tests. Hormones are finally dropping off properly. Emotions are still all over. But I am healthy.

And that, my friends, closes up our first year of marriage. We are now in this waiting pattern to know when I will have the 'all clear' message from the doctor. The one thing we have discovered from this whole tragic experience is that we don't want to wait anymore. Before we found out I was pregnant, we were in the mindset that if it happened, we would be ready. Now, we are ready. We want this more than we thought we had before. And now, now we literally have to wait.

Stay tuned for more. I promise this won't be all dark and tragic. I have a husband who brings a smile to my face, whether he's dressed all spiffy and clean shaven or when he's just woken up and still has that disheveled look with parts of his hair sticking straight up. He's my rock.