Tuesday, June 9, 2009


We are creatures of hope.  

We say to ourselves, "Don't get your hopes up," and we prepare for the worst.  But we were made to hope.  

We can't help it.  

We can go ahead and brace ourselves for disappointment, but secretly, or not, we cross our fingers and hope for the best.  And a lot of times, even when we pray with surrender, we pray with hope.  Knowing that God is in control, but still hoping that God's best for us, that His "agenda", includes the things that our hearts ache for.

What was the last thing you hoped for?  Was it a job? Was it your soul-mate?  Was it a promotion?  Was it a clean bill of health?  

After 9 years, Chris and I decided to shock our families and shock the world and try to have another baby.  For years, we have said that our family of 3 was "complete."  And I have to say, it's a great family of 3.  But with 40 right around the corner, we started praying about a family of 4, and our prayer was answered very quickly with a positive pregnancy test.  (Okay, I took more than one, telling myself, "if the NEXT one is positive, then I really AM pregnant!" I finally believed on the 5th test...).  And I surprised Chris on our 13th Anniversary with a whole set of pregnancy tests confirming that he was going to be a Daddy again.

Because I am "no spring chicken" as my OB's nurse told me, the testing started immediately, showing an excellent progesterone level and a swiftly growing HCG number.  

5 positive pregnancy tests, a progesterone level of 20.7, and 3 weeks of doubling HCG/Beta numbers means that you're going to have a baby, doesn't it?

But during a 5 hour trip to the ER this weekend because of some late-night bleeding, the sono showed that the pregnancy was not viable and would most likely terminate on its own.  And a sono yesterday confirmed it.  I spent a lot of time hoping this weekend, knowing deep inside what the reality was, but still hoping for a different -- a miraculous -- outcome.

And now I'm waiting.  Waiting for death, essentially.  Waiting for closure.  I don't know what's worse.  The ending or waiting for it.

My emotion is gone now, I'm numb.  And I've switched into rational mode.  I'm going to work this morning.  And trying to rise above reality.  Because I know this happens all the time.

But even though a million other women have gone through this, it is a very alone kind of thing.  

But even in the numb, even in the alone, I hope.  I hope for this to pass quickly.  I hope for another try.  I hope for the day when we become a family of 4.  

I can't stop hoping.  It's who I am.  It's who WE are.  We would be lifeless without it.  My hope tells me that I'm alive.  That I can make it through.  And that tomorrow, and every day following, promises a little less hurt, a little more normal, a little bit brighter smile.

At least I hope...


  1. My heart aches for you Christie and I know that God is weeping with you. Your spirit amazes me, writing of hope during a loss. Looking forward to the day when you are a family of four.

  2. So sorry Christie, I have been through it and it's hard, your strength and hope is inspiring! I will be praying for you.

  3. I'm so sorry Christie. You keep your hope!

  4. Christie I am so sorry for your loss. Hang on to your hope, it will guide you through your grief - I'll be praying for you and your family.

  5. Oh Christie - my heart is breaking for you right now. I am so sorry. I will be praying for you and your sweet family.


  6. I love you!! Been praying for you a bunch these last several days wishing I was close enough to hug your neck!

    I know how it feels to hope. I often find that I place more hope in things and situations than in my Savior. I know I should place my hope in Him alone. He loves you, even more than I do!

  7. My heart aches for you. I had a miscarriage in 2004 and I remember feeling so sad and disappointed.

    Two other friends went through the same exact thing last week.

  8. Christie, I am so so sorry. My hearts hurts for you, too. Please hold on to your hope and strong faith, my friend. I will be praying for you and please let me know if I can do anything--I'm not that far away!

  9. Oh Christie, I can't even tell you how sorry I am!! My heart aches for the pain you are in. I was in your same shoes a little over a year ago and can remember it like yesterday. I will pray for you to be a family of "5" soon. You are a family of "4", you just may not be able to count them all.

    God Bless!

    xoxo ~Lisa

  10. I am so sorry, my friend. There is nothing harder than a disappointment like what you're going through. You amaze me with the positivity of this message.

  11. Yes, I too remember feeling very alone. I will always remember mine. I, like you, held on to hope for a full week when we were just hoping we found out so early that a heartbeat could not be detected. I remember feeling angry at the comments people said that they thought would make me feel better (I don't blame them, there isn't much to say), but as faithful as I am to Him, I just didn't like to hear that it was "God's will". I hurt and nothing made me feel better.

    My best friend just went through one and she planted a tree in memory. Just an idea...I will pray for you and your husband. *hugs*

  12. My sweet sister, I know you feel so alone as you struggle through this. I wish I could help you carry this burden. When I've struggled, I find that time is my worst enemy...and yet my best friend. So be sure to take time for yourself.

    May you feel God's presence through this. May you know how much you are loved. And may you soon have joyful news to share again.

    I love you. Please let me know how I can help.

  13. My precious Christie,

    Just reading the responses, I see how you have touched many lives with your message on hope. Thank you for your transparency. Many of my friends have read your blog and though they have not responded to you, they have told me how your words minister to them. I am always grateful for and touched by the way your friends love you and walk with you. I read the responses and love your friends, even the ones I haven't met. It warms my heart to see them reach out to encourage you.

    My heart too is aching with you. Yes, you go through situations "alone"...yet, you are surrounded by those who care and who hurt with you. That's the way you walked with me last year. It does make things easier to know others care, understand and are praying.

    This is the loss of many. I remember the statement in "Facing the Giants" where the wife asked how you can ache to hold someone you have never met before. You understand... as do many of your sweet friends. It is amazing how one life, even unborn, can be so loved and touch so many hearts.

    I thank the Lord that He included that He is the God of all Comfort! We know He is holy, He is truth, He is our savior, and many other things...but He is also The Comforter. He knew we need that from Him. I am so grateful that I can call on Him to comfort you in ways that we, your family and friends, cannot.

    Daddy and I continue to pray protection over your life, your health and ask God to bring this to completion.

    We love you, Chris, and Cella.

    Love, Mom

  14. oh Christie! My heart is aching right now! *tears* Please know that all the way over here in AR someone is thinking of you! God is all knowing and even though we don't understand this.. he does. I will be praying for you!

  15. There are no words, my friend, to make the hurt go away. I've been in your shoes. So I'll pray all the prayers I hope my friends prayed for me, when I was too broken to pray for myself.

  16. i am so sorry for your loss. i came over to tell you to email me and i'll forward a high rez image of those flowers so you can have it printed on canvas. sending hugs!! xo Lisa

  17. Oh Christie, I am so sorry you are going through this.

    I wish I could hug your pain away.

    I do believe in hope, and I believe in prayer.

    You and your family are in my prayers at this time.

  18. I want to say thank you for stopping by my blog. I have been reading yours and I am so sorry for your loss. I have also lost a little one at 8 weeks do to an ectopic pregnancy. It changed my life drastically and I always remember the baby and often wonder what it would be like with him/her here with us. God had a better plan and like you even though I don't understand I just have to trust. It's devastating and there are no words to ease the pain that you feel. I will remember you in my prayers. By the way your daughter is adorable and our girls do look a lot alike!

  19. I tried to leave a comment last week, and it wouldn't let me! Just know you have been in my thoughts, and prayers. You are one of the sweetest, kind-hearted people I have ever read, it is very clear through your posts! Thanks for your sweet comments, and know that I am still thinkin' about you. Try to follow doctors orders a little though:-)