Striving to live authentically while pursuing holiness

Wednesday, April 24, 2013

Miscarriage and the hurts of life

No one was more surprised than me. No one.

As I watched that little blue line appear and get darker and darker, a feeling of complete disbelief washed over me. My heart beat faster, my breathing increased, and tears sprang to my eyes. My entire body was frozen and time stood still.

*How could this happen?*

I do know the answer to that. Believe me, I do. I know many people think it's cute and funny to ask parents of large families if they know "how this happens" but it's not original, and it gets old after awhile. So there. I'm just sayin'....

But in that moment in time I did wonder *how could this happen to us?*

We had been resolute in our decision not to have any more biological children and were taking the necessary steps to prevent that. So the question again....

I immediately shared my new surprise information with a trusted old friend. I just needed to have the confirmation that yes, this was a blessing! Of course I knew it was, but it always helps to hear it from someone else as well.

I knew what Jon's reaction would be so I waited to tell him. We were planning a trip to get away--just the two of us--for three days. I prepared to tell him then so that he would have plenty of time away from the stress of reality and every day life to let this news sink in.

In the meantime, my excitement grew. I had gotten rid of all my baby clothes, maternity clothes, baby "stuff" of all kinds. So I began to steal glances at all the tiny things I saw. Thoughts of "wearing" my baby again, as I always do when my babies are small, made me smile. Memories of my nose in soft, squishy, baby smelling necks washed over me and along with those came the anticipation of another precious bundle to hold and cuddle and enjoy. I knew my kids were going to be thrilled. And I knew that they were going to give this baby as much love and snuggle time as I was!!

Yes, this was a gift from heaven. An unplanned and unexpected gift. And I couldn't be happier.

Jon's reaction was about what I expected, but soon he too was excited at the prospect of another little blessing around here. The kids were over the moon and my girls went to sleep every night with thoughts of snuggling and cuddling and rocking their new baby dancing through their dreams. Everyone began making plans and thinking about sharing their room with the baby. Offers came from all the children, and each had their own idea of how to rearrange their furniture to "fit" this new addition.

And then the unexpected happened. My body seemed to be a pregnancy machine, well oiled and working. Somehow it didn't seem like the "odds" would catch up with me. But they did. 1 in 5 babies are miscarried. All of a sudden I was another statistic sitting in an Emergency Room talking with an OB whom I had never met. He was a compassionate man in his late 50's/ early 60's. Even after that many years of talking about miscarriage, he had tears in his eyes as he told me that this baby, this unexpected blessing, this unknown dream would never have life on this earth.

Over the few weeks before I had spent countless amounts of time praying for this baby, giving this baby over to God, acknowledging that Jesus held her* in his hands. I felt like I heard God over and over whispering two words.
"Trust Me."

But I've known Jesus for a long time, you see. And I know that when God says, "Trust Me" that doesn't always mean things are going to turn out like I want them to. But what I do know is that I can trust him. I can trust him because He does, in fact, hold everything in his hands. The old Spiritual song "He's Got the Whole World in His Hands" is one of the truest, simplest doctrines there is. And because of that, because he really does have the whole world in his hands, I can trust him.

Yes, I have cried and I have hurt. I won't deny that. My children have cried and hurt as well. And even my practical husband, who didn't know how we could make this happen when I first told him, got his world rocked that day in the hospital. My baby that I already had so many plans for was gone.

I found myself not wanting to see anyone or respond to texts or messages or email. I appreciated every one of them immensely. I felt the body of Christ in a huge way. I felt loved in a way that I hadn't before. And that was wonderful. But I just wanted to cocoon up with my "little" family and mourn. I needed to be with my children. I needed to cry with my husband. And I did those things.

I can't claim to know how every woman who has had a miscarriage feels. Over the few days after it happened when I saw a pregnant woman or a new baby, my heart was sad thinking about "what could've been" over the next few months. But I've had that before. I've had five wonderful pregnancies and six beautiful, healthy children. Who am I to ask for more? My heart ached for the women who experience this and yet have no children to comfort them as they mourn, no little voices to fill the empty void with the sound of the word, "Mommy." I can't even begin to comprehend.

I came into this hard experience from a place of fullness. To say my life is full is almost an understatement. I love my life. I love what I do. I was made to be a mommy--God confirms that in me over and over. So even though this was hard, I have had so many people praying for me, loving me through this, speaking words of encouragement and faith into my life. I have had my strong husband who was softened by this experience. I have had my precious children who have spoken their hurts, cried when they needed to and asked the hard questions. And I have had sweet friends who expected nothing from me and let me be me--crying when I needed to and also laughing as well.

No, I can't claim to understand other people's pain. I can't even fathom the feelings of the woman who finds out she will never have a baby come forth from her womb.  I can't claim to understand the pain of the woman who continues to lose baby after baby from her body and struggles with thoughts that her body has failed her. And I can't imagine being the woman who watches the life slowly drain out of the body of her beloved child and wonders how she herself will ever take another breath without willing it to happen.

I have known all of these women. They are strong, beautiful women who have known the pain and the hurt that this life can bring. They've felt first hand the affects of sin on this world in a tangible way. But all of these women that I've known have also known Jesus. I may not have responded to them in the right way. I may not have known the right words. I may not have even said anything. But I know that Jesus has gotten all of them through it. And I know that even though my sadness is real, it can never compare to what so many people in this world endure.

My family knows an exciting truth. We know that one day we will see our little "Emmy," the child conceived in my womb who some would refer to as a "genetic mishap." My precious little girls have drawn pictures of the day that they will meet her. And even though it's brought floods of tears from me, it is healing for them as they anticipate that day. But even greater than that, on that day we will see our Savior and all the hurt and all the pain of this world will be erased. What a beautiful promise to look forward to as we serve our Sovereign God today.

*We did not know the sex of the baby for sure, but I felt just like I did when I was pregnant with the girls. My pregnancies have been very distinctly different betweens boys and girls so we have assumed this was a girl and named appropriately.*

Sunday, April 14, 2013

When Facebook sucks

Over the years I've loved Facebook. It's been a way for me to keep in touch with my friends that I've moved away from or who have moved away from me throughout the years of my life. I've reconnected and rekindled relationships and formed new ones as well. Facebook can also be a great tool for spreading good news!! I've used it myself for that a few times.

But now I'm learning that it sucks when that good news turns to bad news, and you've shared it with all of your 800 or something friends. Yes, you can probably guess, we found out yesterday that we lost this precious baby. Without going into detail, I'll just tell you that (as you can imagine) our hearts are heavy and our emotions are raw. Our kids are dealing with this on a different level--the level of a child. They are all dealing in their own way, but they are grieving. My sweet Shepley cried for hours last night, as I knew she would. LH and Breck cried as well, but they bounced back faster. CJ just had lots of questions. Her five year old mind just can't quite comprehend this. She keeps saying, "I wish the baby was still in your tummy." *So do I, baby girl, so do I*

Jon and I are crushed as well. We had really gotten excited about the idea of another baby around here and seven children. It just seemed right and natural for us. It's one of those things that we just don't always know the answers to, and yet we know that it's all in the hands of our Savior.

We appreciate all of the texts and emails already from people who knew Friday that I was starting this and yesterday as we found out really what was happening. We know we are loved, and that's about the most important thing right now. Shepley told me she didn't want to go anywhere for a long time or see anyone. I told her I understood exactly how she felt.

I think Thanksgiving and Christmas are going to feel a little bit empty this year. I was so excited to think about having a brand new baby for the holidays. How fun that would be!! But those were not the plans for us.

"The Lord gave, and the Lord has taken away. Blessed be the name of the Lord."  ~Job 1:21