This is going to be a unique post. I am writing about something I know very little about. Infertility is known ground. I am confident in it. But now, I am navigating through new territory and am in a learning curve. At the risk of embarrassment, misunderstanding, and confusing all of you, I am going to attempt to write about and discuss this as I am wading through it.
Just remember, I’m not on the other side of this. I’m still navigating my way through the deepest valley of my life. But, I still find it imperative to share this portion of the journey. So many women and couples are experiencing loss like mine. And even more are trying to support those couples. So this is for y’all. Here is a vivid account of what’s flowing through my heart. It’s not pretty but it’s real. Thanks for listening and may you have a better understanding of the brevity and heartache of miscarriage, the heart it destroys, and the devastation it leaves in its wake.
It’s hit me like a ton of bricks. I never thought about the possibility and didn’t expect it. For the last several years, I’ve lived a life of strength. One of overcoming life’s woes. I am used to the infertility road and all that it throws at me. I’ve learned to stand firmly in peace, using my sword of the spirit, belt of truth, and most importantly, my custom designed shield of faith.
But, miscarriage and the grief that comes with it is something that I am a rookie at. I’ve never experienced loss as I am today. I’ve certainly lost loved ones. People who were so incredibly dear to me and that I still weep for even today. But, never have I experienced the loss of my babies. Not like this.
As of today, I still haven’t miscarried and we are at the 11 week mark. Physically, I still feel and am pregnant. I have morning sickness nearly everyday, albeit that has gotten loads better. My stomach is distended out still. My blood sugar and digestion is completely off. Yep, I’m still carrying. There’s no doubt about it.
And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love him, who have been called according to his purpose. Romans 8:28
But, all of it feels in vain. I am experiencing disbelief in the Lord’s words “all things work for the good of those who love Him”. Don’t be confused. I certainly claim my belief in what He promises. In the grand scheme of things – generally speaking of the miscarriage – I am finding ease in believing this will work for a good purpose.
But, what I am talking about is my disbelief that this chosen process is working for the good. I find myself saying to God, “Ok, I am trusting that your plans are better than mine and that this miscarriage will even work for the good. But, why on earth must I keep carrying these babies? Why are You having me to hold them, feeling the ickiness of pregnancy for so long? Lord, I would like to move on. Please let me move on.”
Still, He’s having me to walk it. I am left to blindness and can only trust.
I simply can’t emotionally move on knowing my babies are still in my womb. Dead or alive. They are still there. With each passing second, I feel the effects of pregnancy hormones and am reminded of my state. That I am carrying children that I don’t get to keep.
This is quite possibly the cruelest form of emotional torture that any woman can endure. I haven’t experienced all forms of torture but certainly this takes the trophy of the worst that I could imagine… and am now living.
To be pregnant but know that soon you will no longer have your babies is an emotional death sentence. I wake up everyday wondering if this is the day that I lose my twins. And I struggle to fall asleep each evening wondering if tomorrow will be it. I awake in the middle of the night distressed and my body is in constant tension and anxiety. There’s no break or relief.
There are three things that are never satisfied, four that never say “Enough!”: the grave, the barren womb, land which is never satisfied with water, and fire which never says “Enough!”.
In coping with all of this, I find myself crying nearly everyday and sometimes multiple times a day. There’s no point in wearing make-up. It’ll be gone by mid-morning. My body feels tired and I am constantly restless.
I read an article on miscarriage that states this:
If you are not aware of a shifting through the stages of grief and continue to feel debilitated by your suffering, there may be an element of clinical depression or anxiety that needs to be addressed. “Healthy” grief moves, but sometimes it can develop into relentless depression that requires more specific treatment. Many moms will experience depression that includes feelings of guilt, shame, self-doubt, and sometimes suicidal ideation. Regaining a sense of self, hope, and trust is important to one’s healing after a loss such as this.
I know I am not depressed. My grief is moving through the different stages and I don’t have feelings of guilt or shame. I know I am not in control of the situation and I did all that I humanly could to nurture the lives within me. So, that’s the good news.
My mind is currently a battlefield. Can you tell? But, thankfully, my steadfast heart is controlling my every move and the strategic attacks against darkness.
Grief has been a kicker. I absolutely love to laugh. As a little girl, my nickname at camp was “Giggles”. And these days, I haven’t laughed much…except for the other night… when someone I know, who shall remain unnamed, ate a cicada shell as a dare…. Which reminds me, I owe that person $5. ? #ThatOneProducedAGoodBellyLaugh
I want my laughter back. When my Brooksie asks me how I’m doing, I want to truthfully answer “I’m good.” and with a huge smile.
I hate putting on a happy face and pretending like everything is ok. I don’t think it does anybody good. People are suffering. That’s the cold hard truth. And healing cannot take place until we face the realities. We do ourselves a major disservice to play the pretend game as that means we are disabling the most effective tool at our disposal… prayer.
For where two or three come together in my name, there I am with them. Matt 18:20
The power of prayer is something we cannot fathom. I have loved throughout this entire IVF process feeling the prayers of the saints. I am still feeling them today as we walk the miscarriage path. It has been a comfort to receive the cards, texts, comments on this blog and on Facebook, and, for those brave souls, the verbal condolences. They are medicine for my broken heart.
And we rejoice in the hope of the glory of God. Not only so, but we also rejoice in our sufferings because we know that suffering produces perseverance; perseverance, character; and character, hope. And hope does not disappoint us, because God has poured out his love into our hearts by the Holy Spirit, whom he has given us. Romans 5:2b-5