How it all began

My faith has replaced my sense of worry with confidence.  Confidence that He will always provide.  Confidence that He knows the way for me and I trust Him, no matter the choices He has made for my life.  It is a hard thing to do, give someone else ultimate control over your life.  Even though we feel like we have control, we do not.  Things are in motion from the minute we are born.  We do not have any control over what happens to us.  Sure, there are some choices we can make along the way that may slightly change the course, but all major milestones are carved in stone.  It's how we weave our life and choices into those milestones that makes us who we are as individuals.  I started out my life weaving my choices in and out as I pleased.  I felt I was smart and knew what was best for me and my life.  I left home at an early age and actually was married early too.  It caused a lot of trouble and struggle in my life, to leave my home with my parents and decide to do things for myself.  I moved across the country and started a life with my high school sweetheart.  I got pregnant for the first time at 22.  It was my first pregnancy and we (or I) really wanted to have a baby.  When I got pregnant so quickly, I was so happy.  I had cravings and morning sickness so badly, that I knew before I ever even took the test that I was pregnant.  I chose a doctor based on a friends recommendation and two days before my first appointment, I started to spot.  I didn't tell anyone, hoping that if I ignored it, it would go away.  We all hear of women who bleed their entire pregnancy.  Actually come to think of it, I've never met a woman who has, but I know we read about it online.  It may just be another way to get our hopes up that we are ok.  I wanted to be able to control the situation, but I couldn't.  My mother went with me to my first appointment and I should have been 10 weeks.  When the nurse couldn't hear a heartbeat, she brought the doctor in.  He was older, very set in his ways and apparently, had seen it all in his lifetime.  His first words to me were "yeah, don't think this one's gonna be good, let's get an ultrasound."  I was terrified.  I knew he was right, but he was so matter of fact about it.  I had an ultrasound and saw a perfect sac, with a baby that had "stopped growing" at 5 weeks....no heartbeat.  He says he was right, I start to cry and he looks at me like I'm some kind of idiot.  He says we should talk in his office to discuss options.  He tells me that I could wait out the miscarriage, in case I was wrong on my dates and come back in two weeks or go in for a D&C.  Of course, it was a no brainer for me, I'd wait.  What if there was a chance the baby was ok?  I wasn't giving that up.  Two weeks went by and I go back to the doctor.  I tell him that I had stopped bleeding.  He says maybe he was wrong.  Really?  He gives me another ultrasound and tells me instantly, "nope!  I was right!"  I wanted to crawl under the table and punch him right where it counts.  How could he not speak to me with any care or concern?  I decided I would go home and wait again, as I couldn't spend one more minute in that office with him to go ahead with a D&C.  Three days later, my body started to miscarry in the night.  I was actually in so much pain.  I cramped and "labored" in the bathroom all night and my husband took me to the doctor in the morning.  We were sent to the back room and I waited for the doctor to come and check me out.  He tells me there is still "some" left and he would just try to get it out.  I was 22, scared, naïve and upset.  I said ok, not realizing I was basically asking for an abortion on the table.  He brought out all his tools and began to work.  This was the first experience I had with loss.  I sat on the table as the doctor ripped out my insides.  My husband, 22 at the time as well, sat in the chair, white as a ghost, with his eyes wide open.  We were both in shock as to what was happening to me.  It hurt so bad.  I was crying in pain and grief and my doctor, finally getting fed up with hearing me, said "guess we won't be able to do this here.  Sign her up for a D&C to get the little bit left out" and he walked out the door.  This is how I was treated after losing my baby.  I was sent over to the hospital, drugged up, cleaned out and sent home.  Like it was nothing.  No words, no condolences, nothing.  A 22 year old, left to her own thoughts and forgotten.  I laid on my couch and cried for two weeks.  I couldn't bear to go back to work and face the people who knew I was pregnant.  What would I say to them?  How were the going to react?  I had a great job, in an HR department, with encouraging people, but I could not do it.  It was then that my wall went up and I never let it down.  That moment changed me forever and the doctor and nurses didn't even care.  I knew from then on, it was up to me to take care of myself.  I was not able to rely on anyone for comfort or knowledge.  No one could understand what I was going through.  Little did I know, that was only the beginning of my long journey.  Looking back, I wish I had someone or something there to comfort me in the way I needed.  I felt stupid and I didn't like that.  I was a smart girl.  I should have known better.  I really did not believe in God at that time.  He was so far from my mind and I did not have faith that what was happening was not my fault.  Satan used that experience to poison my brain with fear and hatred.  He had his grips on me and he was not letting go.  I was an easy target I suppose.  I knew everything (so I thought) and I was in control of my life.  We are the easiest for him to pick out.  He poisons your mind with self-preservation.  Never rely on God.  If He loved you, He wouldn't do this to you.  The doubt began to pour in and only grow.