14dp3dt: Giving thanks with a grateful heart - Seeing red but it is not the end!

Every visit to the toilet frightens me.  First, it was the chocolate fudge, then the strawberry juice and even clots of strawberry jam.  Every visit I will see red and it shakes my faith.  But I will try my best to pick myself up - pray a little more, pray a little harder.  Finally, I started to give thanks to see spotting and light bleeding. Because this means that my period is not here.  This means there is hope.

I experienced more cramping this morning so decided to call the hospital to update that I still see red even after 4 days of additional duphaston support.  They asked me to come in for a blood test (2 days before my scheduled date).

As I drove to the hospital and back home, I prayed and sang non-stop. There was nothing I could do, except to pray.  I prayed that he will give me positive news.  I prayed that he will answer my prayers.  I prayed that he would give me children that I will bring up in accordance to his words.  I don't know how many times I prayed and how many times I sang.  It was the only way to keep me sane.

Back home, I was having lunch with my brother and we were both preparing ourselves for the worst case scenario.  I was going to ask my hubby to take urgent leave tomorrow and mourn together before I head back to work.  We will implement our 'two-of-us' plan of eating sashimi, drinking cold coke and booking our air tickets to shanghai for a getaway.  As such thoughts fill my mind, my cramps became worse as well.  It made me feel really guilty.  What if our baby hears that I have already given up hope?  It is a thin line whether I should accept reality or ignore the signs and be obsessed with the small hope that there is really a baby in me.  Honestly, it feels like I am schizophrenic.

My handphone finally rang and I was surprisingly calm when I answered the call, bracing myself for the worst.  The nurse said, 'There are small traces of hcg in your blood but it is very very low.  Come back on Wed for another blood test and continue with your inserts.'.  I couldn't believe it.  Almost cried, or maybe I really did cry.  I am still in the fight.  All is not lost.

Love this song that I heard on Sunday, the song I kept singing while I was driving:

For every time I pray

I move the hand of God

My prayer can do things

My hand cannot do

For every time I pray

The mountains are removed

The paths are made straight

And nations turn to you

Honestly, this is a miracle, made possible by prayers and faith. I hope that my story can inspire more sisters to stay strong in this journey.  To keep our chins up and not lose hope.  And for those who believe, to continue praying and believing amidst the darkness.  As we slug in bed, hold tight to the hope that we will become butterflies, glowing with a baby bump.