December 7th. Just a fleeting thought of this day brings tears flowing, and has since May. We just finished the amazing Christmas in Middleburg celebration with parades and Santa rides and friends and so much wonder. It is my favorite day in Middleburg and such a wonderful way to celebrate the Christmas season. Bentley joined his school classmates in the afternoon parade and had the best time.
So why these tears...well, December 7th was my due date, for the baby we lost earlier this year. Although I spent only 10 weeks carrying that little life, it was already part of me, my soul, my life, my future plans. I spent weeks of nausea and throwing up dreaming of that baby. I was still throwing up when I went to my appointment at 9 weeks, expecting to hear a heartbeat, only to learn the life had stopped growing and their heart was not beating. My heart fell out of my chest when I first noticed the concerned look on the doctor's face when she was trying to find the heartbeat. I was shocked and felt so alone. I knew that miscarriage happens more often than I knew, but it never crossed my mind leading up to this appointment that it could happen to me. Michel had stayed home with Bentley that day. I expected to record a heartbeat on my phone for him.
The doctors said all they could. A nurse who lost 3 babies to miscarriage came to talk with me. But that pit in my soul was burning. I was stunned and distraught and heartbroken all at the same time. Why would God give us a new life, only to then turn around and take it away? This made no sense to me.
I sat in the parking lot and cried some more and was finally composed enough to drive home. It was a surreal out of body experience. I had to call my parents who were anxiously waiting to hear good news. There was not good news. "There was no heartbeat," was all I could whisper.
For the next week as I waited for the baby to pass, I was numb and lifeless. As a dear friend said who had experienced miscarriage, "It feels as if the life has been sucked right out of you." It was almost too literal, but so very true. My husband was so patient, so caring, so kind, and looking back this was how God was speaking to me, letting me know He was still near. But I sat inside our house one day looking out at the sunshine, wondering if I would feel happy and up to "living life" again. When I went back in for a check-up the following week after nothing had happened, the doctor insisted we do a DandC procedure (when they remove the baby) because my body had not received the memo that the baby had stopped growing. It was still increasing the release of pregnancy hormones, which explained why I still felt so pregnant (and nauseous). Feeling pregnant when I knew I was no longer...I don't wish it on anyone.
The day of the procedure was surreal. As we pulled up to the hospital, the song, "It is well with my soul" was coming on and we sat in the parking lot and I wept. I knew I had a choice to make. It was either well with my soul or it wasn't. In times like these, where the loss and disappointment and heartbreak feels too much to bear, there is no in between. We can either take His hand and walk down the path with Him, or we can deny His love, His care, His hope, His plan. In that moment I had no choice but to claim that it was well with my soul. I did not understand. And let me add, I STILL do not understand. I may never understand. But I knew this baby was God's child, His to give and His to take away.
Over the next few months as I tried unsuccessfully to make sense of everything, I kept hearing the questions being asked of me:
"Do you want the life I have for you, or do you want to hold on to the dreams of the "ideal" life you think you want?"
"Is your current family, Michel and Bentley, enough? If you have no more children and adoption is not an option, will my current blessings be enough? Will I, God, be enough for you?"
Oh how I wrestled to say yes to God, that it was enough, and I would choose a content heart. Some days I was successful, some days not. But the more I kept submitting my spirit daily I began to crave the life God wanted for me instead of the life I thought I should have.
Fast forward 5 months and 2 days. It is October 9th and Michel and I are driving to the same hospital where I had my DandC procedure. I was once again pregnant (!!!) and we were going to our 12-week appointment. We heard a heartbeat at 8 weeks and were now having an ultrasound to see our baby for the first time. I was fighting anxiety over the health of this baby, and had been over the past 8 weeks, since learning I was pregnant again. Fear and hope wrapped in one. So when we saw a healthy baby via ultrasound and heard that heartbeat, so strong...the tears just flowed. Fear was released and hope was assured. It was in this same hospital that God chose to take away, and now God chose to give. Only God is the giver of life.
Today we will go in to have your little brother or sister removed from my tummy. You do not know that I've been carrying him/her, you only know that mama has been sick over the last few weeks and been to the doctor a lot this past week. Unfortunately he/she stopped growing and will not grow big enough to become a baby outside of my tummy. I know you have been praying for a baby brother and baby sister and we are also praying God will give us another one soon.
Through this disappointment of losing the baby in my tummy, do you know how much joy and comfort you have brought Papa and me? The day I found out that the baby was not growing, I came home and when I opened the door you came running to me saying "Mama Mama!" and jumped in my arms. It was exactly what I needed. The next morning I was so sad to wake up and remember that the baby was no longer growing. I was crying, sitting on my bed, and you came in and climbed up on my lap and just wanted to snuggle and hug me. Again, just what I needed.
I don't know what God has planned for your life. What I do know is you have already brought so much joy and so much life in your 3.5 years, and I know if you have brought us this much joy, you have brought God even more as He loves you more than we do! Even though it's hard to believe. You are such a gift and my hope and prayer is that you will bring joy to people who need it most, the joy that only comes from our loving Heavenly Father.
You are our greatest gift, as I tell you all the time. It is a privilege and blessing to be your mom. Keep being you!
Love you more than you know,
Mama
So why these tears...well, December 7th was my due date, for the baby we lost earlier this year. Although I spent only 10 weeks carrying that little life, it was already part of me, my soul, my life, my future plans. I spent weeks of nausea and throwing up dreaming of that baby. I was still throwing up when I went to my appointment at 9 weeks, expecting to hear a heartbeat, only to learn the life had stopped growing and their heart was not beating. My heart fell out of my chest when I first noticed the concerned look on the doctor's face when she was trying to find the heartbeat. I was shocked and felt so alone. I knew that miscarriage happens more often than I knew, but it never crossed my mind leading up to this appointment that it could happen to me. Michel had stayed home with Bentley that day. I expected to record a heartbeat on my phone for him.
The doctors said all they could. A nurse who lost 3 babies to miscarriage came to talk with me. But that pit in my soul was burning. I was stunned and distraught and heartbroken all at the same time. Why would God give us a new life, only to then turn around and take it away? This made no sense to me.
I sat in the parking lot and cried some more and was finally composed enough to drive home. It was a surreal out of body experience. I had to call my parents who were anxiously waiting to hear good news. There was not good news. "There was no heartbeat," was all I could whisper.
For the next week as I waited for the baby to pass, I was numb and lifeless. As a dear friend said who had experienced miscarriage, "It feels as if the life has been sucked right out of you." It was almost too literal, but so very true. My husband was so patient, so caring, so kind, and looking back this was how God was speaking to me, letting me know He was still near. But I sat inside our house one day looking out at the sunshine, wondering if I would feel happy and up to "living life" again. When I went back in for a check-up the following week after nothing had happened, the doctor insisted we do a DandC procedure (when they remove the baby) because my body had not received the memo that the baby had stopped growing. It was still increasing the release of pregnancy hormones, which explained why I still felt so pregnant (and nauseous). Feeling pregnant when I knew I was no longer...I don't wish it on anyone.
The day of the procedure was surreal. As we pulled up to the hospital, the song, "It is well with my soul" was coming on and we sat in the parking lot and I wept. I knew I had a choice to make. It was either well with my soul or it wasn't. In times like these, where the loss and disappointment and heartbreak feels too much to bear, there is no in between. We can either take His hand and walk down the path with Him, or we can deny His love, His care, His hope, His plan. In that moment I had no choice but to claim that it was well with my soul. I did not understand. And let me add, I STILL do not understand. I may never understand. But I knew this baby was God's child, His to give and His to take away.
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| Smiling through tears before the procedure. This man was and is my rock. |
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| Michel was sending updates to our families the day of the procedure. Lots of love and support surrounding us. |
"Do you want the life I have for you, or do you want to hold on to the dreams of the "ideal" life you think you want?"
"Is your current family, Michel and Bentley, enough? If you have no more children and adoption is not an option, will my current blessings be enough? Will I, God, be enough for you?"
Oh how I wrestled to say yes to God, that it was enough, and I would choose a content heart. Some days I was successful, some days not. But the more I kept submitting my spirit daily I began to crave the life God wanted for me instead of the life I thought I should have.
Fast forward 5 months and 2 days. It is October 9th and Michel and I are driving to the same hospital where I had my DandC procedure. I was once again pregnant (!!!) and we were going to our 12-week appointment. We heard a heartbeat at 8 weeks and were now having an ultrasound to see our baby for the first time. I was fighting anxiety over the health of this baby, and had been over the past 8 weeks, since learning I was pregnant again. Fear and hope wrapped in one. So when we saw a healthy baby via ultrasound and heard that heartbeat, so strong...the tears just flowed. Fear was released and hope was assured. It was in this same hospital that God chose to take away, and now God chose to give. Only God is the giver of life.
The drive home I will never forget. Once again, the tears flowed, just as they had after my DandC procedure, leaving the same hospital, traveling the same road home. But what was so striking to me was that I truly felt the same as I had felt leaving there 5 months ago...it was the unmistakable presence of God. His nearness. It had been amidst deep deep sadness before...this time it was amidst great joy, but it was the SAME. It was this light bulb, "Oh, this is why we can truly feel joy in all circumstances", because of the satisfying presence of God that is constant and better than any outcome in life we could hope or pray for. And this is why we hope in Jesus alone, not in a baby or a job or a husband or a life change or a better body or a house or a particular circumstance...it is His presence that is constant and can provide peace and joy no matter what. I suspect when my life is over that car ride will go down as one of the top 10 moments in my faith. I wept and wept. So grateful for Jesus as my constant in all things.
In some ways I needed this day to come to truly process this loss. In other ways I don't know that I will ever fully process it, let alone understand it. Despite the fact that I am 21 weeks pregnant with a new life, and despite the GREAT joy and gratitude I feel, there is still a loss over THIS life. I believe our baby is in heaven and I trust this with all my heart. I will meet him/her one day. They are in the arms of Jesus until then. We will celebrate them every year as a reminder that heaven is where we are all heading eventually, our true home. And so for now, I can look around and be grateful for EXACTLY what God has given to us.
In closing, here is a short letter I wrote to Bentley the day of my procedure as I was looking around at what I did have. God is everywhere, right in front of us. Regardless of how dark our circumstances, there is always some light somewhere. During this experience God's light was shining through Michel and Bentley and our amazing family and friends. I am thankful He uses them to show me His love on a regular basis.
Dear Bentley,
Today we will go in to have your little brother or sister removed from my tummy. You do not know that I've been carrying him/her, you only know that mama has been sick over the last few weeks and been to the doctor a lot this past week. Unfortunately he/she stopped growing and will not grow big enough to become a baby outside of my tummy. I know you have been praying for a baby brother and baby sister and we are also praying God will give us another one soon.
Through this disappointment of losing the baby in my tummy, do you know how much joy and comfort you have brought Papa and me? The day I found out that the baby was not growing, I came home and when I opened the door you came running to me saying "Mama Mama!" and jumped in my arms. It was exactly what I needed. The next morning I was so sad to wake up and remember that the baby was no longer growing. I was crying, sitting on my bed, and you came in and climbed up on my lap and just wanted to snuggle and hug me. Again, just what I needed.
I don't know what God has planned for your life. What I do know is you have already brought so much joy and so much life in your 3.5 years, and I know if you have brought us this much joy, you have brought God even more as He loves you more than we do! Even though it's hard to believe. You are such a gift and my hope and prayer is that you will bring joy to people who need it most, the joy that only comes from our loving Heavenly Father.
You are our greatest gift, as I tell you all the time. It is a privilege and blessing to be your mom. Keep being you!
Love you more than you know,
Mama
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| Giving kisses to his baby brother a few days ago. |
