My last post was mostly raw emotion. It’s been a roller coaster of a ride the past month. I honestly have a hard time believing that we have even gone through any of this at all. But yet, here I am. A member of the quiet statistic of those who have experienced pregnancy loss.
Yet, I am not lost on how God has provided His incredible mercy throughout this journey, which is something I completely failed to mention in my last post. A couple of verses that I recently read in my Grieving the Child I Never Knew devotional by Kathe Wunnenberg (given to me by a wonderful ministry, Lullaby of Hope), is:
So do not fear, for I am with you;
Do not be dismayed, for I am your God.
I will strengthen you and help you;
I will uphold you with my righteous hand.
“For I know the plans I have for you,”
declares the LORD, “plans to prosper you and not to harm you,
plans to give you hope and a future.
Then you will call on me and come and pray to me, and I will listen to you.
You will see me and find me when you seek me with all your heart.
I will be found by you,” declares the LORD.
My frame was not hidden from you
when I was made in the secret place,
when I was woven together in the depths of the earth.
Your eyes saw my unformed body;
all the days ordained for me were written in your book
before one of them came to be.
God has definitely been with me throughout this entire situation. From the moment I stopped feeling morning sickness randomly at 8 1/2 weeks and quietly prayed that my baby be protected, to the fateful morning we went to the doctor’s office and saw Jessie no longer living on the sonogram, to the procedure that Friday, to now. I am actually quite amazed that I can even say that I have felt God’s presence in this loss. But, He has made it rather impossible for me to not.
You see, Mark and I were excited we were expecting again. Having had a successful and healthy pregnancy before, we didn’t think about the potential for loss. It was definitely on my mind the first time around, but for some reason, I reasoned that it wouldn’t happen since I have a healthy child. With our naive te, we began telling friends and family.
Of course, when you tell friends and family you are expecting and learn shortly there after that you no longer are, you have to “un tell” friends and family. Normally, I wouldn’t want to tell anyone the circumstances, but being as they were. I was forced to, by God’s mercy.
God knew I needed friends and family to be there. To let me lean on them in a time of need. I was able to not keep quiet, but share. And because of that sharing (and liking of Facebook posts related to the subject), I found a friend going through the exact same thing.
Grace upon grace. God’s grace.
You see, this is not something one should go through alone. It’s already a lonely experiencing not having anything physical to mourn, let alone it being the first trimester and the secrecy that surrounds those first 12 weeks (which, I will argue is the time we need the MOST support… but that’s another story). Yet, many women choose to go it alone. I would have. My wounded pride would have stood in my way. I would have reasoned that no one wants to hear that sad story. Besides, it happens. It’s “natural.”
It’s still a loss. And, if I didn’t share, people would begin wondering why I was withdrawing. Why I couldn’t find joy in other’s happy circumstances (which, mind you is still difficult), why I don’t really want to hear about people’s miscarriages and resulting procedures, or talk about the subject of abortion.
Or why, I am just not me.
I have been changed by this circumstance, and God has mercifully surrounded me with people who get it, who can speak truth into my life, who get me out of my bubble (and my head) and who can show me love despite it all.
I find it so ironic that around Christmas, I placed my hand on my belly full of expectation of a baby, and as Easter draws near, I mourn the loss of my daughter.
How much more does God mourn for us? Enough that He gave His only son for all of us, his precious children.
So, God has a plan for me, and I have to hope that it definitely is to turn my suffering into gladness. Some days, that’s the only hope I have to cling to. Others, I can see it fully. I pray that you are able to walk into that fullness of hope with me, some day.