If you’ve been reading my blog, then you know I had a miscarriage back in November. I was seven weeks pregnant with our third child.
It was a difficult experience to put it mildly.
We were overjoyed to become pregnant again quickly and I was 11 weeks along on Monday.
However, this baby is now gone as well. I began miscarrying yesterday.
There are so many things that are hard about this.
The loss of a child, first and foremost. It aches so much. The fear that something is wrong now that I have had two consecutive miscarriages. The worry about the future and the age gaps between my children and whether or not I will ever birth a child again.
Trying to tame a wild toddler and fussy baby while experiencing painful contractions and driving to the doctor for ultrasounds.
Some people may criticize my willingness to put all this out in the open. Maybe they think I’m seeking attention. Maybe they would never post about their miscarriage. Maybe they think it is TMI. Well, I don’t really care what they think.
You can think what you wish, but for me, secrecy is not an option. I can not look a friend in the eye at church and tell them things are good while I am bleeding and mourning and aching for my lost child. I can not sit at home alone wondering why this is happening to me and not seek prayer and comfort from others.
Sharing the truth of my miscarriages with others has been life-giving in this crushing time. As with my last miscarriage, our community of friends and family surrounded me with love and aid. It is truly incredible.
Receiving numerous texts of encouragement, prayer, and scripture from my mommy friends and growth group friends and family helped me to feel less alone in my suffering. It allowed the tears to flow.
One friend is bringing dinner tonight, another tomorrow, another the next night, another next week. Another friend picked up snacks for the girls, tea for me, Pelligrino, feminine needs, and daffodils and dropped it on my doorstep. Another friend brought us toilet paper because we were low.
Typically I hate to ask for help. I rely on myself too often, but as I was struggling to make my children lunch with an unruly toddler and my teething infant fussing and crying and my stomach cramping and my back aching and my heart hurting I knew that God was providing me community to help me in my time of need.
So, no, I am not seeking attention. I am simply sharing my heart. I am writing out my thoughts to process this loss. I am trying to sift through the hurt and the anger and the fear.
The anger that abortions are free, but D and C’s cost money. You want to kill your baby? No charge! You lost the baby your heart was longing for and need a medical procedure to ensure your health? Fork over the cash. It is wrong and it angers me.
So much fear that we are about to embark on an experience with infertility.
So much hurt wondering why this was part of God’s plan. Why was I allowed to become pregnant, just to have the joy snatched from me?
Sharing this experience allows me to be honest with these thoughts. To get them out and move on. To receive encouragement and truth about God’s sovereignty and love.
These people are weeping with those who weep as the Bible instructs. They are loving as Jesus did. It is a beautiful thing amidst an ugly reality and I am so very thankful for it.
And know this. Although my words may sound downtrodden or even bitter, I remain hopeful as I cling to God’s truth. I may need to repeat it over and over during the next few months. But, God is good . . . all the time. All the time . . . God is good.
Just as I sang to my youngest last night as I rocked her to sleep to comfort her tears while my own tears poured down, “Jesus loves me . . . this I know . . . for the Bible tells me so. Little ones to Him belong . . . they are weak, but He is strong . . . Yes, Jesus loves me.”