I struggled with the idea of even blogging about this subject. However, I know that God has given me an opportunity to share my burdens with others and who knows how He will use it. I felt compelled to write about this too.
Recently, I have been not feeling like myself. I have felt worn out nearly every day. I had some suspicions that I was experiencing symptoms I am all too familiar with. I didn’t believe it could possibly be. My husband had endured the vasectomy from hell a few years ago, so it was NOT a possibility. I looked up the failure rate of the big chop chop, and the odds were in my favor. I blamed the timing and symptoms on everything else I could think of. Finally, I relinquished and took a test even though I didn’t want the confirmation.
Sure enough, I was pregnant. I sat in shock and worry. I cried, and for good measure, I cried a little more. My husband was elated. He was naming the baby already, and installing a pregnancy calculator on his phone. We figured a due date.
I continued to worry.
The thoughts raced through my head. I know that I have NOT carried more that I have have carried to term. I know that I am not getting any younger. I know that I have a job that pays for our kids education, and what would we do with a newborn?!? I know that this means a teenager and a baby in the same year. I know that many jaws will be bruised when they hit the floor. I know my health went to pot the last time around. I know that I don’t feel like I can do it again. racing….racing….
I finally fell asleep in my worry, and my husband finally fell asleep in his excitement.
The very next day around noon I saw my first signs of trouble, and having walked this road so many times, I resigned myself to the inevitable. My instincts were correct, and indeed the process continued. Then comes the guilt.
The guilt. I feel guilty for the tears. I feel guilty that I did not enjoy the thought from the very beginning. I feel guilty for all my body’s inadequacies. I feel guilty I cannot give my husband that child he was so excited about. I feel guilty that I even took the test in the first place. I could have explained it all away. I could have dealt. I feel guilty that I felt somewhat relieved that I don’t have to deal with all those other things that I was worried about. It is a ridiculous cycle of guilt.
I look at the four precious gifts God has given me, and I am overwhelmed by His blessings. Then, I am deeply saddened that I won’t know what a amazing blessing this baby may have been. If I think about the fact that each of these children were once tiny creatures that looked like a shrimp with a heartbeat I wonder who is this child that I will never know. The ache in my heart makes the pain in my body seem minuscule.
We have walked this road before, and I don’t want to think about the children I will never never carry in my arms. The first couple were SO hard, and I could see no reason that God would allow us to go through the hurt. Over the years, the pain doesn’t change, but the way God has used to has amazed me. It has helped heal the wounds.
Miscarriage is something that people just don’t talk about. People don’t know WHAT to say, so they say nothing at all. One of the things God has shown me, is that SO many people have walked this road. So many others have arms that will not hold their sweet children. So many people have arms that have been empty continually, and I know that God has blessed us with four beautiful children.
God will use it all for HIS glory. What a comforting thought. His arms can carry me, and who knows that God will do with this. The children I never knew are safe in the arms of my Savior. He picks up the pieces and puts me back together again. He has a plan which is so much greater than mine. He knows the answers to the questions that I haven’t even asked yet. I praise Him for his perfect will for our lives. He will use it all to His glory and He will wow me yet again.