This is a story I had prayed I would never have to share, again. I do. This is a pain I prayed I would never have to endure, again. I do. This is a journey I didn't want to take or continue on. I am. We have spent the past 16 weeks on an emotional roller coaster.
I went to see the Dr. at 7 1/2 weeks, blood work was all good, had an ultrasound the next day. No heartbeat, but the baby was measuring right on. My HcG levels were on the rise, not doubling like they wanted but significantly increasing. I went back at 9 weeks and it was obvious the baby had died.
The crazy thing about all this is that I spent the first weeks knowing something was wrong when in all reality the baby was growing right on schedule. Even though the Dr. called and said, "It looks like the good Lord is answering your prayers", I knew it wasn't going to be "okay". Okay is such a relative term, isn't it?
I didn't start miscarrying until 12 weeks. Many have judged this decision, but this is what I had peace with. I wouldn't change it. I had been down this path before and just prepped myself for what the day would hold. This was not the same path. Four hours into my miscarriage I began to hemorrhage. Within minutes I was on the verge of passing out. We rushed to the ER (praise the Lord it is across the street). I had to have an emergency D & C. I found with all the trauma it was very hard to grieve and process things the way I had last time.
Why can things never happen the same way twice. The actually physical loss and emotional loss were all so different this time. I felt God's presence and all-surpassing peace with Abijah. I spent weeks praying for strength, wisdom and peace and felt nothing. I am not big on living your life based on "feelings". My Savior is not a "feeling". He is my Father, who wants to help me grow and become the person He has intended. I felt anger this time. I felt abandoned. I sat at His feet completely surrendered and yet "felt" like I received nothing.
Things just don't happen the same way twice. I am here today wanting to pull a 3 Stooges moment. You know the one. One of the goofs does something stupid and the other pokes him in the eyes or whatever quirky thing they do. I want to smack my self upside the head and yell " HELLO Mrs. Obvious".
I have said a lot of prayers in my life and been able to see His answer or at least look back and see it. I have sat around begging Him for the peace my heart desired. Guess what? I MISSED IT! I realized I don't feel the same because I am not the same. I have grown in Him so much since I lost Abijah. He has always given me what I needed. So I sat there on my bed, begging him and then realizing the way I "feel" is because He has already provided the peace. How can you miss the thing you are praying for the hardest?
With Abijah we wanted to name him, bury him, remember him. I sit here not wanting any of those things. They seem too hard. Is is because I did those things that dealing with my loss of Abijah was harder? Will not doing those things guard my heart? Will not doing them cause regret? Oh, how I have tried to keep myself guarded. Seriously, if you keep yourself separated does it make the loss any less? NO WAY! You just find yourself burying these feelings you need to deal with. What can't things happen the same way twice? I would have been so much more prepared for everything. What do I do?
I smile. I smile at the ways God brings you answers. I smile at the life He gives.........and takes away. I smile at the heart of a child. A 7 year old boy whose heart is so understanding. He knows God's greatness and senses it with everything in him. To have faith like a child. We all need it. I sat sobbing in hurt and anger, screaming questions to my Father, praying, surrendering, falling, failing, guarding. I gained my composure long enough to answer the knock from my 7 year old. Trying to not let on that I wasn't okay.
"Mom, I picked a name for the baby."
"You did? I don't think we are going to name the baby."
"That is our baby, we have to name it"
"Okay bud, what did you pick?"
"Israel, it could be for a boy or a girl"
I smiled, hugged him and told him it was a great name and he left the room. Then I looked up and said "Seriously? Israel? Is that Your attempt at making point? Point taken." For those of you who don't know the meaning of the name Israel, it means "wrestled with God". I sat there on my bed just broken. I knew very well that was exactly where I was, spiritually, that day. I knew His plan, I trusted His plan, I just needed to be reminded I guess.
Well, there is my story for now. May my "Israel" bring me closer to Him. Please pray for me. Pray for my recovery ( I lost ALOT of blood) physically and pray for me emotionally. I know I will get through it, I have done it before. In all honesty it has been easier in so many ways this time but I still need your prayers. Any prayers, recommendations or testimony you want to offer would be much appreciated by myself and anyone else who may come to this blog. Have a blessed day in the Lord.
"He gives and takes away, He gives and takes away. My heart will choose to say, blessed be Your Name"
