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Who Am I to Argue With God?
Nov 08, 2002
My story is knid of a long one. My name is Tiffany and I am only 24. My husband and I got an early start on things by getting married when I was only 17. We knew that we wanted to have children, but not that young. We waited to start trying to get pregnant until I was 21. We tried for almost three years. In that time our lives were more stressful than they had ever been before. In January 2001 my husband's Grandfather died. We were living in a different state at the time and had to travel into Ohio for the funeral. In Arpil 2001 my husband got laid off and we decided to move back to Ohio. We moved back in July and we were staying with my mom until we could find a place of our own. In September my husbands other grandfather passed away. We thought that was going to be the end. It wasn't. We moved into our own place in February 2002. We were both so excited. Then on March 1, 2002 we found out that we were going to be parents.
After almost three years of trying, that was the best news that we could have ever gotten. I had always said that I would wait until I was out of my first trimester to tell people that I was pregnant, but as soon as I saw that second line on the test, I wanted to tell people. My husband was okay with telling people so we decided to go ahead. My parents were the first told, and then so on and so forth.
I worked in the medical field at the time, and one of the doctors that I worked with told me that he could get me in for an ultrasound. I was so happy. My husband and I went the Friday before Easter and got to see our baby. It was probably the happiest I have ever been. When the ultrasound tech told me to hold still so she could try to let us hear the heartbeat, I was afraid to breathe. She told me I needed to breathe. We heard the heartbeat. My husband said it was so fast it sounded like a tommy gun. He's so strange. They gave us two pictures of our baby, and it made it so real.
Then on April 19th, my husbands Grandmother passed away. She was his last living grandparent and we loved her very much. At first everyone was afraid to even tell me that she was sick, because they didn't want to jeopardize the pregnancy. We were with her when she died , along with a lot of the rest of the family.
Through the next week people kept coming up to me and rubbing my belly and telling me that I had the joy right there. I was the reason that some of the people were able to hold it together because looking at me gave them hope that things would get better.
They didn't. We went to his grandmother viewing on Tuesday and her funeral on Wednesday. I was going to go back to work on Thursday. I worked odd hours and on Thursdays I didn't have to go in until noon. I woke up at 6:00 with a weird feeling in my stomach. Waking up early to have to go to the bathroom was nothing new for me so I thought I just had to pee. I got up to go o the bathroom and when I wiped, there was blood. I ran into the bedroom and called my husband and told him to get home right now!!! I then called my mom and asked her what I should do. She told me to wait until my husband got home and call the doctor. When he got home he called the doctor and she said that she could get us in at 8:45. At 7:30 My water broke along with a lot of blood. We went into the ER.
I wanted to kill the ER doctor. When I was put into the stirups he looked at the nurse and told her that he needed some forceps to "get this stuff out of her." I wanted to kick him in the head and scream "Stuff?!!? This is my child you are talking about!!!" I then had to go for an ultrasound and the tech wouldn't let me see the screen. I knew that I had lost the baby for sure then.
As long as I wasn't thinking about what was going on from the waist down, I was okay that day. I know now that I was in a form of denial. I was in labor and the doctors couldn't get my bleeding to stop or even slow down, so they decided to do a d&c. I just wanted the pain to go away. I had been at the hospital for almost six hours and they still hadn't given me anything for the pain of the contractions. I kept apologizing to everyone else and telling them that they didn't need this right then, but they were just telling me to focus on myself. I had thirteen people sitting in the waiting room to see if I was okay. Great support system huh?!!
Anyway, people kept telling me not to be angry with God for taking the baby, and I was so confused when they would say that. I couldn't imagine being mad at God. Who am I to argue with God?! I feel that when it is my time to be a mother I will be. (I just hope that time is soon.)
I hope that I haven't bored you with this story, but it does feel good to get it all out and I hope that maybe by reading this I can help someone else going through the same thing.
Love to all,
Tiffany
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