(Background - the retreat took place at Bergamo Center near Beavercreek. On Saturday we spend 6 hours in silence, seeking God. I decided God and I needed to have a long discussion about the pregnancy and miscarriage during this time period. The following is what I entered in my journal at the end of the 6 hours.)
There is no answer to why a miscarriage happens. I've stopped asking because I won't hear what I want to hear anyway. There are no promises or guarantees that we'll have a healthy baby. There's also no way to know if we'll end up going through this pain again.
To keep trying is to risk. When I think of "risk" I think of the phrase: "there is no love without risk." So many have been hurt so deeply that we question whether we ever want to love again. I have. And yet I kept trying and one day the risk was worth it. To find someone who loves you like you want to be loved is an amazing reward for taking the risk over and over. I know this and yet when it comes to a child, I'm suddenly afraid to try again and end up feeling the loss again.
While you're trying to get pregnant it can be frustrating looking around at all those women with children. Including the ones who make the news who don't deserve children. It seems everyone has had kids - except you.
You go through doubts - wondering if it's your fault. If God doesn't think you're good enough. That you're either being punished by not getting pregnant or that God is waiting for you to get your life together before blessing you with kids. But if you're lucky you have a good friend who points out how ridiculous this is. (See reference above of mothers who make the news.)
Then you have a miscarriage (or three) and you hear all the stories of friends who have gone through it too. So many of them, and they all have kids now. I've heard that 1 in 4 women have had a miscarriage. But I think that 1 in 4 women have had no problems getting pregnant and staying pregnant. The others have gone to fertility specialists, tried for over a year, and often used ovulation prediction methods. Others have spent thousands of dollars on the hope of getting pregnant, and still others have had to endure daily (or twice daily) shots to have a baby.
I absolutely hate the song "Only Women Bleed" (which is about domestic abuse). But the person who wrote it seemed to understand how different women are from men. When it comes to pregnancy, there can be so much sadness associated with starting or spotting. And this is something that only the hopeful mother goes through. The hopeful dad has to be told.
So how am I doing now? I'm making peace with the situation. At first I was angry at God for letting me go through this. But then after I let go of the disappointment and anger I realized that God had set up a safety net for me to land into. He knew from the beginning that this would happen and set so many little things in motion that while I was going through so much pain (emotional and then physical), that I had a safe landing where I would be held onto until it was over.
One of the safety nets was the Beth Moore class I took, Living Beyond Yourself, which is a study of the fruit of the Spirit. (That being love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness and self control.) Beth Moore went into great detail about the Greek roots and how the Bible uses these words. When it came to faith I questioned what would happen to my faith if we lost the baby. I decided then that God has not changed, He still loves me more than I'll ever understand. He still wants to protect me and provide so many blessings for me. That if God brings me through a situation, there's something better waiting for me at the end. I decided this is how I believed and that if anything happened to the baby, that I would hold onto my faith.
And then it happened, the unimaginable. And suddenly I wasn't sure if my faith would make it. The facts were running around in my head, but my heart was numb. The lesson we had just gone over was about submitting to God. I wasn't sure how to do this, mostly because I was bitter and didn't want to let go. It was the movie "Bruce Almighty" that finally caught my attention. (See previous blog.) When you're at the end and your so broken and your emotions are so raw, all you can do is surrender and say "God, I want what you want. Your ways are better than my ways. You allowed this to happen and I will trust you that I'll be okay."
What really hit home during the retreat was that we were singing my favorite songs, the ones that made me so grateful for Jesus dying on the cross to save a wretch like me, the songs that normally gave me so much hope and joy. And the hope and joy came back as I was singing the songs. And when I realized what I was feeling I just started crying. After all I had been through I still could trust God and see goodness in what He was doing in my life. I could still praise Him and thank Him. My faith was still in tact.
That, my friends, is a miracle.
That's the end of the wrap-up. Other wonderful things happened that weekend including a beautiful nature walk, laughing with old and new friends (that would be length of friendship, not age), and really appreciating all the loving and encouraging family & friends in my life. (This includes all of you wonderful people who have been part of my safety net the last few weeks.)
To answer some questions that people keep asking... The actual miscarriage happened 6 days after we found out that had lost the baby. (If you're ever going to go through this, contact me, you seriously need to be forewarned.) We get to start trying again (to get pregnant) in the next 4-6 weeks. I have to start the heparin shots as soon as we get a positive pregnancy test. (We're tempted to start sooner though.) And I've been instructed to take the baby aspirin every day for the rest of my life. And next time we get pregnant, I don't think we're going to tell anyone until the child is 2 years old. Just kidding, probably around 3-4 months is when we'll start telling people.
I have other thoughts running around my head, but this will do for now. I promise my future posts will hopefully be a lot more light-hearted.
Thank you God for getting me through this. Thank you for the safety net you started to lay in place months before this all happened. Thank you for all the old friends who have been through this and are encouraging me to keep trying. (Their beautiful children are encouragement enough.) And thank you for all the new friends that you put into my life during this time to help me get through. Thank you God for allowing me to feel love, and peace, and happiness after experiencing such loss. Thank you for holding me together and keeping my life from spinning out of control. Thank you for the constant reminder that you love me so much and that you're looking out for me. I'm holding you to your promises and believing you'll deliver.
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