So, in March I wrote that we were going back to the infertility specialist. It was just a consultation, but a few weeks later, I found out I was pregnant. On our own. (I know, right?!!!) The glorious news we had waited four and a half years for was finally here. Of course we were elated and I didn't mind going for blood work every few days. I actually thought to myself, "Thank you, God, this is how is was supposed to be". Little did I know, His plans were different. Two weeks after we found out, we were told that we would be miscarrying. A baby was not developing. Now we had to just wait around for it to happen. This is where He started teaching me about grief.
The older I've gotten, I have realized something about myself. I'm not very good at losing things. If I can't find something, it's because, clearly, "someone else has moved it". If there has been a death in the family, I separate myself from the emotion involved and play the "strong girl". I think it's all part of the control freak in me. But as I have become aware of it, it is also changing. After getting the news of the miscarriage, I came home and broke down. I cried for a long time. I started asking questions that I didn't really want an answer to. Then the science-loving part of my brain started rationalizing, "Well, if it wasn't going to become a baby, then let's just get this over with". I went back to work and tried to act like nothing was wrong but my body was telling me otherwise. His still, small voice was telling me this was going to be a process, and He was teaching me.
My prayer quickly became for Him to keep me from going back to darkness. I was there for so long, and it would be so easy for me to go back there. Keep my heart soft, God. I want to stay open to You.
My sweet Savior carried me through the loss in early May. My heart is heavy for those who endure such pain without the comforting arms of Christ.
Unfortunately, this was only the beginning of His lesson. With this new found determination to become parents, Jay and I knew that we had to make a decision about our dog, Gracie. We rescued Gracie from animal control several years ago. She must have had a tough life because she was very fearful and aggressive towards strangers and other dogs. She was always sweet and protective with us, however she had bitten people in our home. We knew we did not feel comfortable having her around when we brought a baby home one day, but had put off the inevitable for as long as we could. We searched for new owners and contacted rescue groups. Our only options were to keep her or put her down humanely. On the last day of May we walked away from the vet with tears in our eyes. We drove a few hundred yards and had to pull into a Wal-Mart parking lot to let the bottom drop out. Hardest thing we've ever done. While sitting in the parking lot that day, all we could do was pray. We felt so much hurt and pleaded with God to send us joy.
Through it all, several friends commented to me on how I was the "strongest person they knew". Far from it. If they could see inside my head, full of doubt, fear, and pain, they would change their mind. My lesson has been this: I am the weakest person I know. I run. I cry. I give up. I assume. I get angry. I strive. My faith in Jesus is what keeps me sane. He is strong. He knows my story. "Be still and know that I am God" -Psalm 46:10. I seriously want to tattoo it on my body.
Fast forward to today- I am finishing up this post while sitting on my sofa and I am almost 15 weeks pregnant. Yep. He sent us joy. Clearly, this is a whole other story in itself...one that will be saved for next time. Thank you for taking the time to read this. Thank you to those of you who have stood with me believing and praying. God is good.
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| Almost 11 weeks |
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| 13 weeks and after a big meal! |
