I'm not sure what has pushed me here, but here I am putting my fingers to the keys and typing---something I never thought I'd share with so many people. However, if God has taught me one thing in my life, it's that our trials become experiences for us to use in helping and encouraging others that may go through them. I know I have looked to others' experiences so many times when facing tough times to get me though and so I pray that this is the Holy Spirit pushing me so that my 'story' may help someone though their difficult time and encourage hope in their future.
This fall my husband and I had been trying for baby #2. We had success earlier this winter and were beyond excited. Plans were made of how and when to tell family and friends and I had already started a 'new baby' wishlist on Amazon. Life was great. Until I became a statistic.
20% of pregnancies end in miscarriage.
It's one of those yucky things I thought, "oh, that won't happen to me...".
It began while I was at work one day--a Monday.
To finish that entire day of work was unbearable mentally and emotionally as I was not positive of what was going on. I remember standing in the bathroom stall at one of my schools fighting back tears and preparing myself to teach a classroom lesson while I was still unsure of what my body was doing. Hours turned into a day and within 36 hours it was gone. "It" was gone. I wasn't pregnant anymore.
There is something about that lack of control over your own body that is completely terrifying and frustrating. Why can't I just do something to stop it? A pill? A shot? Resting? Anything?
Devastation set in and even while the process was going to take weeks to complete, I had to continue with work--with life. That was easily one of the worst weeks of my life. I'm sure I was a horrible wife. mother. counselor and friend.
I think one of the most heartbreaking things out of all of this is in my research and speaking with other women that this is so common. My own friends and family and I'm sure people I see and talk to every day having to endure this same heartache.
It's a tough heartache. It's a sense of loss, but I felt myself comparing my experience to others thinking "well, I wasn't as far a long as her so I shouldn't be so sad" or "why would I tell people, I wasn't even 7 weeks along..." I think that is Satan's way of creeping into my thoughts and minimizing the importance of life. Of the life that I was going to carry. No matter how far a long. No matter how big. It was a life and it was mine---and now it's gone.
I do however feel that the farther a long a woman is the more connected and invested she becomes so with that, the grieving is, I am sure, much more difficult.
For a long time I felt broken. I was sad. hopeless. frustrated. angry. Much of that pointed towards God. We exchanged words---I more so than He, because when I'm pissed I don't listen. In the end he gave me a teeny seed of hope and assured me he had a better plan. So, I waited...not patiently. Not the most polite either. But I waited and trusted.
If you are going through this or have gone through this, I am deeply sorry.
But remember the title? Through the storms come rainbows.
I've learned that the term for a baby born after a miscarriage is referred to as a 'rainbow baby'.
God still hasn't answered all of my questions from the "why's" before, but he has blessed us with our rainbow baby---fingers crossed.
That's right---I'm PREGNANT!
Though I have not obeyed the unwritten rule to wait until 12 weeks, I decided I am not going to let my prior experience drive fear into my life and keep me from sharing our good news.
I am just shy of 11 weeks and had an ultrasound a couple weeks ago.
Heartbeat? Check.
Arms and Legs? Check.
Little wiggly blueberry? Check.
All is looking great and so this gives me great hope that come September we will have our rainbow baby.
I still feel silly for writing all of this out thinking that so many women share this same story and never say a word. But I believe in the power of a story and the power of words and that they can help to heal. So many people's stories have helped in my healing process. So I pray that this finds the right person so they know:
#1: What you are going through is awful and you are not alone
#2 : There is hope after loss
#3 : It's ok to be angry at God as long as you keep talking to Him
And if no one finds this encouraging of helpful, well then at least those close to me will know why I sucked so bad at life earlier this winter. :)
