I've been wanting to write for awhile now, but with me it's all about finding the right timing and being inspired. My husband says that I just haven't had insomnia for awhile....and thank God for that! However, this morning (after telling my husband last night how excited I was to sleep in today) I woke up at 8:00 a.m. and soon realized that I had no chance of falling back asleep. So, therefore, blogging was imminent.
Some people know a little about what my husband and I have been through these last few months, but many do not. Since I found out that I was pregnant, again, in early February we have been preparing how and when we would share this news with family and friends. That's right, I said "pregnant, again". About a week ago, Josh announced to our church that we had a miscarriage back in October (And, that we are expecting again...in October). I can say without hesitation that this has been the most difficult time of my life to date.
Perhaps because it was our first pregnancy, my initial reaction was to hold it all inside. I was unsure even about calling our parents. I never imagined that the first time I told my family about a pregnancy it would be bad news. Neither my husband nor I will ever forget our first appointment with the doctor. I was 8 weeks pregnant, preparing for my first ever ultrasound, the doctor's exact words to me were, "And now, the fun part!" But....what was to follow was not fun at all. We watched and waited for the signs of life inside of me, expecting her to find a heartbeat...and then the doctor got very quiet.
Josh reached for my hand and I looked at him knowing that something must be wrong. She told us that either our dates were off, or the baby might have stopped growing around 6 weeks. She said that it was too early for her to know what was wrong, and that I should take it easy the next few days and see what happens. It was a Wednesday afternoon that I will always remember, we sat in the car in a McDonald's parking lot and I cried. We decided to wait before we told anyone, put on a happy face, and go to youth group.
Sure enough, the next day at work I started spotting. I called Josh, afraid of what might be happening. I came home early, and that night we called our parents to ask for prayer. We attempted (to the best of our abilities) to make it a happy call. We started with the news that I was pregnant, and then told them about the doctor's concerns and the spotting. They were excited, hopeful, but scared just like us. The next few days I stayed home from fear of making things worse and fear of interacting with people.
On Sunday morning, I decided to sing on the praise team, and Sunday night we went to our small group. I didn't even make it to the end. I told Josh that we needed to go home, and there in the bathroom by myself I knew I had lost the baby. I nearly fainted from the pain and the shock. I can't remember anything I've gone through that was more physically or emotionally traumatic. The next few days just got worse. I'll spare you the disgusting details if you haven't experienced it yourself, but what happens after a miscarriage is unnatural and horrifying.
I know that my pregnancy was not very far along, still early in the first trimester. I know that there are many who have their own war stories that they will want to compare with mine. I have been tempted in the past to say things like, "Well, at least we weren't further along, " "At least the baby didn't have a name yet," "At least we hadn't told all of our friends and family." After reading through a devotional book with Josh called, "Grieving the child you never knew," I discovered that I don't have to justify my pain or compare myself to other grieving mothers. Every loss is unique and different, and still completely justified.
I wouldn't wish what I went through on anyone, and it was never my hope to be able to relate to others in this way, but I am able to see the good in that. I have a bit more understanding for what my mother went through in having two miscarriages (and even having to give birth to a still born, a beautiful baby girl who had already been named). I can relate a little better to our married friends that tried for years to conceive, then lost two babies before they gave birth to a healthy one, and lost two more since then. I can somewhat understand the pain of our friends that were told their child might die in the womb, and if not wouldn't live very long. I remember the pictures of them holding and loving their child, but only getting to have him in their lives a short time, because he never got to leave the hospital.
How are we coping you ask? Well, I have cried...a lot. Josh doesn't cry...ever...,but he has written a beautiful song for our baby that he claims he will never play live again. I've only heard it through a recording on his cell phone the day it was written. I think it's the best song he has ever written. The devotional book has helped a lot in the grieving process. And, we have opened up to others more recently. We told some mentors, close friends and family in our lives first. We told our small groups at the Passion Conference (a group of 7 strangers we would likely never see again). We told our small group at church, the church staff, and the elders....and then the whole church.
Please don't be offended if I/we haven't told you personally. I just hate talking about it more than anything. I know that it's good for me, that some people can relate or at least sympathize, but....I don't like crying in front of everyone I know. I don't like that feeling of vulnerability. And most of all, I don't like to go through all of the pain again. Sure, even as I write this blog I am crying, but I know I need to get this out. I need to tell my story, even if no one ever reads it.
And now, we are expecting another baby. We are absolutely terrified....not just because being parents will completely change our lives, but because there's still a chance we could lose this child before we get to meet it. I am almost 12 weeks....a little early to tell the world, we know, but the timing was right for us. We haven't even had our first ultrasound yet, which has definitely amplified the fear. I'm not sure if either of us is looking forward to going into that doctor's office, because we remember what happened the last time.
I'm so afraid of the doctor telling me that the baby hasn't grown or that she can't find a heartbeat, but I am trusting God. I prayed the other day that I would trust God and give him praise no matter what happens. So, if this baby goes straight to heaven just like it's brother or sister...I will be okay. I will grieve, again, but I will know that God is still there looking out for me. I will know that he still cares, and like the song says, "All of my life, in every season, you are still God, I have a reason to sing, I have a reason to worship."
**Update- Our son is now 4 years old & has an almost 2 year old brother. Josh has played his song live before & posted it for free on Noise Trade for anyone who thinks they may find comfort in it. No donation is required. http://www.noisetrade.com/joshwright
