February 22, 2019- the day that changed my life forever.
I’ve had countless arguments in my head over the past year of whether I would share my heart, my pain, and my hope. But someone told me recently that in order to help others, I have to be willing to become vulnerable; to share my story and pray that it helps another life, in whatever capacity that may be.
January 16, 2019, I found out I was pregnant. Scared, excited, shocked, thrilled…filled with possibility. David and I were over the moon with the thought of knowing that we had created life and that life was growing inside of me. My lifelong desire to “be a mommy” was coming true. With each day, we grew more excited. We shared with our closest people and talked baby names & plans for the future. Oh how different our life was going to look over the next year!
On February 8th, we had our first ultrasound appointment. David and I walked in, wide-eyed and anxious. We were going to hear our baby’s heartbeat!!! Holding my hand as the ultrasound tech put the jelly on my stomach, David smiled at me. This man loves me. He’s always for me. He’s never leaving me. The first image of our little one was the most precious picture I’d ever seen. We were able to see that tiny heart flickering, but unfortunately, were not able to hear it. The doctor assured us that I had probably ovulated late and it was just too early. Lab work confirmed a healthy pregnancy and we walked out of there with the happiest hearts in the entire world. In a couple of weeks, we’d be back and finally get to hear that sweet little beat that ever momma wants to hear.
February 22, 2019. No flickering heartbeat. No more life. Devastation. Confusion. Pain like I’d never felt before. How is this happening? Why is this happening? Not to us. We cried so many tears in that little sterile office that morning. And when it was time to pick ourselves up, we walked out, scheduled the D&C, and traveled home with the heaviest hearts in all the world. So much had changed in just 14 days.
The next morning, I decided to journal. SO many emotions. I felt as if I had no choice but to write them down. How could I possibly keep all of this in?
“February 23, 2019. My heart aches for so many reasons. Disappointment. Feeling like a failure. The dream of making David a daddy seems further away than ever. I know there’s nothing that I did wrong but it still doesn’t help the hurt. Our little baby nevergot the chance to feel loved IMMENSELY by us. Oh how loved he/she would have been. Despite the pain, I have peace. And there’s only ONE who is giving me this peace. I know that I am safely in the Lord’s hands; right where I am supposed to be. His plan is ultimate. And it is good. For my good.”
For the next 6 months, I allowed myself to feel every emotion. I cried. I rejoiced on the good days. I took each moment, each day, one at a time and knew that the ups and downs were a part of the journey. My human heart and brain wanted to believe that my pain was meaningless. How could the Creator of the world want to comfort me when there is so much anguish everywhere else as well? My pain felt so little; too little for the Lord to hear. I wrestled with myself; trying to speak the Truth that I knew to be true. But finding it so hard to understand what the purpose of my pain was.
In August, I decided to start a bible study with a couple of girl friends. We studied Psalm 23 and WOW. For the first time in my life, I really felt like I was beginning to understand the Lord as my SHEPHERD. I began to lean into my vulnerable, sheep-like self and understand that it is okay to feel needy; to feel weak. My Shepherd CARES FOR ME and seeks me out. He “leaves the ninety-nine” to find me when I’m lost, when I’m afraid.
For the longest time, I felt like the Lord was going to restore our miscarriage when we got pregnant again. But I was learning that I was being restored DAILY in the middle of the waiting. Psalm 23:3 says “He restores my soul”. Present tense. Right now.
September 16, 2019. Exactly 8 months from our first positive pregnancy test. I woke up and realized that I was a few days late. I dug into my closet and found a pregnancy test. Three (LONG) minutes later…A FAINT POSITIVE LINE. Is this real? I woke up David, tears welling in my eyes, “we’re pregnant.” It felt more surreal than the first time. We were finally going to be parents.
The following day, I had lab work done to confirm pregnancy. My counts were low but still showed that I was pregnant. My head kept telling me to not get too excited, but my momma heart was BEAMING.
Two days later, I woke up to spotting. Which turned into heavier bleeding. After an ultrasound and more lab work, the doctor called me and confirmed another miscarriage. Because this one was so early on, it was termed a “chemical pregnancy” which means that the embryo never fully imbedded into my uterus. DEVASTATION…AGAIN. Anger. Disbelief. AGAIN?? Why would the Lord do this? What was the purpose of knowing I was pregnant for three days? It seemed like cruel and unusual punishment.
A dear friend of mine, who has the God given ability to step into her friends’ pain, shared a song with me that contains an excerpt from Pastor John Piper. I was brought to my knees. I cried out to my Father. I wept. I found the full sermon on YouTube and replayed it over and over again. 2 Corinthians 4:15 says our “Light momentary affliction is preparing for us an eternal weight of glory.” John Piper goes on to say that “Not only is all your affliction momentary, not only is all your affliction light in comparison to eternity and the glory there, but all of it is totally meaningful.”
MY PAIN HAS MEANING. This indescribable pain has meaning. And it is preparing me for Glory. He doesn’t promise glory soon. He doesn’t even promise Glory on this side of eternity. But he promises it.
Never in my life would I have thought 2019 would look like this for us. So much pain. So much loss. But underneath it all, SO MUCH HOPE. An indescribable peace, a joy that doesn’t make sense. Do I believe that I will be a mommy some day? Absolutely. But I’m accepting my role as a sheep and leaning into the Shepherd who only leads me to still waters. Green Pastures are coming.