I want to start this post off by saying that GOD IS GOOD. He can bring ruin from ashes and redemption from pain. But following God does not mean we will live lives free from pain and anguish. God allows us to go through those times in order to teach us, grow us, and restore us to Him. He is good. He is faithful...
Grief isn't an ocean. It's a wave. It keeps pummeling you every time you think you've broken free. Every time you finally are able to catch your breath. Every time you think "Finally I am past it. Finally I can keep my head above water and move forward from this place," It crashes over you again, pulling you under and shoving you back into the depths.
We had it all planned out from the moment we got our first positive pregnancy test. We planned how we would announce it, what the announcement picture would look like, how we would tell our families. Everything. I knew the plans I had for the next year as we prepared for our future child. But God knew the plans He had for us. He knew our child wouldn't make it. He knew it was time to call our precious baby home to Him. He knew my body and the baby were incompatible and it would be better for my child to come home to Him than for both of us to be at risk.
And while He knows the plans He has for us, He also knows our pain. He knows how I grieve and how I cry out for our loss. He knows that my heart screams out silently every day. He knows I want to crawl inside myself and hide away. He knows the guilt, shame, fear, and anger I feel. And He takes it all on. He bears my burdens with me. He doesn't force me to heal and "move on". He doesn't tell me "maybe you shouldn't talk about it if it makes you so sad". He listens, He comforts, He accepts my anger.
And I was, and sometimes still am, so so angry. I prayed over my child from the moment I had the positive pregnancy test. I prayed for protection for my baby. I promised God I would spend my life raising my child to love Him and serve Him. I promised to be a good steward of the gift God was giving me. I begged and pleaded for a safe pregnancy. And yet I lost our child.
On August 31, 2017 my world was shaken and I felt a loss unlike anything I have ever experienced before. In one day, the ultrasound went from showing something to nothing. That's how quickly my body rejected the pregnancy like it was nothing...like it wasn’t the most precious thing in my life. With each part of the miscarriage process my grief started anew, with a new wave crashing over me and crushing me down into the depths of despair. Each time I found myself not thinking about our precious child, the grieving process started all over again.
I often feel guilty for forgetting even for a second and feel ashamed for living my life happily again. I feel the loss acutely. I feel anger that it happened to me. I feel confused as to how this could have happened. I feel terrified to try to conceive again. I feel loathing towards my body for betraying me and taking this from me. I feel numbness and shock as I try to wrap my mind around everything. I feel pain and a sort of anger with myself with every post I see of friends announcing a new pregnancy, or friends with happy, healthy pregnancies or with precious, whole, safe newborns. I feel frustrated that no one who hasn’t been through it understands my grief or cares to listen without saying "it'll be ok".
Miscarriage is not something that everyone can understand. You do not truly understand the pain and emotional turmoil until it happens to you. When my sister went through her miscarriage last year, I remember texting her and saying I was sorry and that God had a plan. I did not know how much pain she was in and how much a heart can grieve over the loss of a human being that has never been held or touched. I did not know the deep, jagged wounds miscarriage carves into a human heart. I did not understand that no words can ease the pain. There is no "right thing to say".
It won't be ok. It never will be. And that is ok. God heals all wounds. Yes, wounds leave scars. And I will forever have deep, jagged, painful emotional scars that will be with me for the rest of my life. The waves of grief will become fewer and farther in between, yes, but they will still come. But even so, God is good.
God is good. His grace is abundant. He is the giver of life. He is the God of miracles. He walks beside me and I know He will not not abandon me, no matter how rough the road of life may become. Through this process, He is teaching me that He alone can fill this hole in my heart. I need to be patient in the process and stop continually working towards "the next thing". It is through seasons of pain and grief that He does the biggest and most impactful work.
God alone can mend this hole in my heart. Not Patrick. Not my family. Not work. Nothing. I must choose to let go and let God do His will in my life. Letting go of my expectations, my timeline, and my hopes and dreams is the only way I can find peace, patience, and understanding. Grief cannot overtake me so much that I miss out on the blessings God has in store for me and Patrick. God brings beauty and life out of the ashes and dust of painful times. We only have to trust.
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