Pain and Preparing

I have about 25 minutes till the Xanax kicks in to help me sleep.  The old-fashioned way is just not working.
I made it through another day.  I had my hair appointment this morning (if I'd rescheduled, it'd have been a good month to wait for a new time, and no thanks), so Ches drove me.  He didn't work today, and I did need it.  We got some pizza for lunch, and I laid down as soon as we got home.  I didn't realize I'd let my pain medicine lapse, so by 6:30 this evening, I was in awful pain.  It took almost an hour to start working since I'd just eaten, but it's better.  I just don't want to take it all then run out, or get used to a lot, then they won't work when I'm hurting badly.  But I'll try not to go so long if I can remember.  I'm trying to tell someone when I take something (I always have this ambulance vision, where they ask what I've had.  I want them to know!).
I've done more thinking-about everything.  I don't know if I mentioned it (I don't think so), but I had a doctor's appointment last Monday (the 22nd), and the nurse said if it'd ease my mind (since I was crying), she'd try to check for fetal heart tones.  She said it was just for fun, and if it'd scare me if we heard nothing (which was possible, she said), then we shouldn't check.  I thought for a few minutes and told her I wanted to try to hear them because the benefits of easing my mind would be worth a lot.  We tried, and heard nothing.  She had me go to the bathroom to empty my bladder, then we listened again.  She was pushing so hard on my body, it was hurting, but I wanted to hear as badly as she did.  Still nothing.  I didn't get too upset in the office, since she'd told me it might still be too early.  But when I got in the van, I called Ches.  I was upset.  I tried to think reasonably, and I'd already felt them (all 8 legs and arms, and such a small space I guess), so I didn't worry too much more about it.  She said I could come back on Thursday to try to listen again, but I thought if I still didn't hear them, it would be agony waiting for my ultrasound till the next Monday.  I tried to be mature and patient, and waited till the next Monday.
I'm wondering if yuckiness was in the back of my mind, and I didn't want to give the thought room in my head.  I also had a bad dream last Thursday.  I woke up to a dream of Ethan falling off a huge ledge, and I'll spare you all the gory details, but he died in my dream.  I couldn't catch my breath, I jumped out of bed, and panicked.  I prayed for it to go away, for me to forget it.  (I was having really bad dreams all week, but I read it was normal with the hormones running rampant.)  Now all these things come back to me.  Were they my body's way of preparing me?  Was there something happening that I just didn't know?  What if I'd insisted on an ultrasound the week before?  What would I have found?
Now we found tons more info today about everything from miscarriages (I ordered three more books) to progesterone (did you know it rises all through pregnancy?), to fetal and maternal medicine specialists (we called the office in Little Rock for an appointment-at 4:30 today-and they had already turned on the machine for the weekend, they close at 4:30 every day).  I am thankful to even know that I haven't lost hope.
I'm tired of crying, it wears me out.  I want to be strong, and focus on the future-on what I can DO, but then what I had planned keeps creeping in.  I lost not just two precious lives, but the dreams and hopes I had for them.  I had worked out so many scenarios-like how to let them both wear the baptismal gown we had made almost 10 years ago-that all our kids have worn, how to get them both out of the car if I'm alone, how to feed them both, we studied options for another bed, for double strollers.  It all seems so vain now.  Why did I spend my time praying for two placentas so they'd be safest on my way to the last ultrasound, when I took for granted they were even alive?  I mean, when do you slip from thank God for this day being pregnant to please let them be healthy and safe?  We begin to take a tiny bit for granted, and it just feels wrong now.
I miss them already.  I know I already lost five pounds, and it doesn't make me happy.  My tummy is going down, but I'd gotten used to sleeping with my hand on my tummy at night.  I'm totally less sleepy, but my doctor says it's because my mind can't slow down (but is it dropping hormones?).
I'm starting to relax and get sleepy, so I guess it's been 30 minutes.  I pray for my kids, that they weather the storm (they see me damaged, Ches stressed, extra people here, their schedule modified), for our families' patience and time with us, and for us to not go overboard on a mission.  We pray for our friends to stay strong, to not lose hope because of us, and for all the other families suffering at this same time.  It's hard to reach out and minister to others when you are in pain, so we are of no help to anyone else right now.  It's like all other things become unimportant, invisible even.  The pain is blinding.  I'm sorry if I'm failing you; I can't promise to do any better any time soon.
Today, Good Friday, Mary watched her Son carry his cross and die his earthly death-the agony in her heart is palpable.  I can feel it.  He was taken down, wrapped in linen, and laid in the tomb.  We eagerly wait for the day we roll back the stone, and see the empty tomb.  We can't wait to celebrate Him rising.  May I humble myself again in awe and appreciation-and prepare.

And if I go and prepare a place for you, I will come back and take you to be with me that you also may be where I am.  John 14:3