Facing my fears

11/05/2015

Those moments that nothing is like it was just one second ago…

Wednesday. I was happily getting my flu shot and marking the pregnant box one moment. Then I went to the  bathroom. I have seen that pink before on a previous Wednesday. Then the floor dropped out from beneath me.

I was resigned to what was to come. I didn’t try to make myself feel better by hoping. My body knew it. I knew it. The nurse whispered hope, it didn’t convince me. 

I may not know what second trimester is like, but I know what it feels like to lose your baby.

I knew I was losing baby #2.

I have feared this day so much. Telling myself I would not survive if this happened again, the pain would crush me. The shame would swallow me.

I had started a study on fear. I came home and did the next chapter, appropriately named “Facing Your Fears.”

Overall, I felt numb. A little mad, a little sad. Scared to feel anything too much in the event it would overtake me. As much as I was resigned to what was happening, a part of me couldn’t believe it was real and I still do not want to.

How could God do this? Give us such hope; hope to rock our baby, to redeem the month of July and then to instead ensure it will be the absolute hardest time as we grieve two babies.

The study asked what my greatest fears are. 

1. Losing this baby. 

2 Not trusting God.

It then asked that I go deeper, to write honestly what exactly I am afraid of.

I fear this baby dying and not being able to hold this baby. 

I fear being childless. 

I fear never getting to be a mom. 

I fear being what is wrong; that my body is killing my babies. 

I fear the absolute devastation that I know too well that comes with this loss.

I fear being angry and hating God. 

I fear His plan.

The study points out how often the bible commands us to fear the Lord. That kind of fear is described as awe, respect, wonder, reverence, and worship. And it is this only kind of fear he wants us to have.

“When we choose to fear God...we choose to live in His will and under His protection. We don’t need to fear anything or anyone else.”

I woke up this morning, for a moment I hoped. I hoped that we would look back on this scare and think about how God delivered us. As pink turned to red, I understood again that deliverance isn’t coming.

Today, to live in His will in my life means to lose our second baby.

I don’t understand it. Again, I mourn it.

The God that numbered the hairs on my head and the stars in the sky, the God that suffered a death on the cross to give me eternity, the God whose plan spans far beyond the vapor that is my life, the same God that holds my babies… He is doing something. Something I can’t bring myself to question this time, I rest in it.

“And I heard a loud voice from the throne saying, “Behold, the dwelling place of God is with man. He will dwell with them, and they will be his people, and God himself will be with them as their God. He will wipe away every tear from their eyes, and death shall be no more, neither shall there be mourning, nor crying, nor pain anymore, for the former things have passed away.”

Revelations 21: 3-4

This stirs such longing within me, and every part of me is grasping to these promises now as all the pieces of me threaten to fall apart.

I will wait on the Lord and in His word, I will hope.

Fear and pregnancy after miscarriage

Please note: this was written in November while I was pregnant with our second baby. We lost our second baby.

11/1//2015

My hands were shaking, my heart beating out of my chest as I waited the three minutes. As soon as I read the word “Pregnant” I took a deep breath, my heart calmed, tears flowed and I told God that our baby is His, that I surrender this life to His plan. I prayed for the ability to love and care for this life as long as He would have me to. I prayed for the ability to want His glory more than I want this child.

Sometimes, I feel like I have to do that every second of every day. 

I can feel the fear creeping up like a thick fog, clouding my rational thoughts and awareness of the truth. Every new and different feeling inside me, every pregnancy symptom, or lack thereof, brings a wave of fear.

In a moment of honesty the other night, I told Michael that I feel like I am waiting for the foot to drop. I don’t know what pregnancy looks like past week 10, and I honestly don’t expect to. I don’t expect for this baby to live.

I do not want to carry this baby in constant fear; to be 9 months pregnant and look back and think, “Man, I sure wish I would have enjoyed that.” or to lose this baby and look back and think, “Man, I sure wish I would have enjoyed that.”

I can’t help but come back to my due date, a beautiful picture of God’s redemption. He didn’t have to do that. To make such a dark time on this earth a little brighter. He already died for me, He already righted this wrong. And yet, He entrusts us with a new life to take care of and sets this baby’s arrival among the darkest week of our lives.

How absolutely unnecessary, yet breathtakingly beautiful.

Whether or not this baby lives or dies does not change what I know to be true about my savior.

God is good. Period.

God is love. Period.

God is just. Period.

God. Is. Sovereign.

He leaves none of those things open for interpretation.

Because of those truths, I have nothing to fear in this world. Only if I am living for this world, and not for eternity, does the fear threaten to overtake me.  

As the fear starts to rise I ask myself, a million times a day I ask myself, what am I living for?

But…

my baby…

it would kill me…

i wouldn’t make it…

What am I living for?

When the answer is eternity, there are no objections that justify the fear.

When I am living for eternity, I am not a slave to fear.

I am His child.

Our Second

PLEASE NOTE: This was written in October the day I found out I was pregnant with our second baby and the day I told Michael. We lost this baby a week and a half later. We are not expecting. Yikes.

10/27/2015

When we were pregnant with baby we sat at church, my hand resting where my tiny baby was growing, and we listened to a sermon called “It Is Well with My Soul.” The sermon recounted the story of the hymns' author, Horatio Spafford. Spafford’s business had been ruined by the Great Chicago Fire. He had planned to take his family to Europe, however, he was held back and sent his wife and four daughters ahead via ship. The ship sank and his four daughters died. On his way to meet his grieving wife, he wrote the hymn which reads, "Whatever my lot, Thou hast taught me to say,It is well, it is well with my soul."

The sermon talked about how suffering is necessary. How God prepares us to deal with our suffering. How it grows our faith. A man that has cancer and his wife came to the stage to talk about their faith during this trying time.

I sat there holding the tiniest life and the best secret I have ever had, overjoyed.

God couldn’t be talking to me. 

Please, don’t be talking to me.

I went for a run the next morning. I listened to a sermon from The Crossing entitled “Living for the Resurrection”. Dave Cover bluntly says, “This life will always bring suffering. Maybe you are on a good stretch... I promise you this, everybody’s life ends sad. This life will always bring suffering. So if you are trying to hold onto this world...you will end up seeing suffering and death as the greatest threat to your happiness and as the greatest terror in your life. Which means you are going to lose your happiness and you are going to live in terror if you try to  hold onto this world.” He went on to tell the story of a woman with cancer and her faithfulness midst trials.

My mind raced. 

No, no, no.

I jokingly told Michael when I got home that I must have cancer. As I was trying to tell him about the sermon I became frustrated, unable to communicate the truth of my fears and what I knew would absolutely devastate me; what I knew I was holding on to tighter than God. I was terrified that He was preparing me.

After losing baby, I remembered those sermons. I looked back at the weekend we heard them, 3 weeks before we lost baby.

I was 7 weeks pregnant.

The week baby stopped growing.

His sovereignty takes my breath away.

When I first listened to that sermon from The Crossing I couldn’t get past the warning that suffering was coming. Terror stopped me in my tracks. This week I listened to that sermon again, Dave Cover goes on,

“But Paul says because Jesus rose from the dead you can stand firm. Because Jesus rose from the dead you can let nothing move you because you know nothing in your story is in vain. Nothing done in service to Christ, nothing done in faithfulness to Christ is in vain because there is a resurrection coming.”

Michael came home tonight to a box sitting in the rocking chair we got this weekend with a note inside that said,

I can’t wait to rock our baby

July 2016

God’s sovereignty takes my breath away.

July.

A Faint Line

10/23/2015

You know those moments in your life that change everything? Where nothing is as it was just one second ago...

For instance, when I said I do.

When I saw those two lines.

When I didn’t hear a heartbeat.

And today, when I saw a second line.

Or wait... did I?

Just barely.

Does that count?

Three more tests.
Three more faint lines.

Hope.

I took the test expecting NOTHING... feeling surrendered for quite possibly the first time in my life. It took just one second and then I was dreaming and planning how I was going to tell Michael, our families, all the while standing in complete awe of God’s redemption and plan.

Then I grabbed the reins and pulled hard…

Maybe I shouldn’t tell Michael if it isn’t for real. I went and bought a 3rd package of tests, digital this time, so no faint line would trick me. I waited until this morning. I couldn’t sleep any longer than 5:50 am. I turned away from the test as I waited. I prayed for surrender. I prayed not to be crushed. I turned around.

Not pregnant.

My heart sank. I put the tests away, crawled back into bed, and laid my head on Michael’s shoulder, defeated. I told him. He held me. Didn't I just surrender the desire?

We went shopping for an accent chair later. Michael was careful with my raw emotions all day. I spotted this chair from across the store and walked directly to it, I became excited.

I sat down in it... and it rocked. My heart sank again. I looked up at Michael and he knew how much we both wanted to be able to rock our baby. He said this is the one and we took it home.

My prayer at the Mount

10/21/2015

I asked God to take the deep longing to be pregnant from me; to bring me peace, to rest in His plan for our children.

A friend lost her second baby last week. My heart immediately broke; tears immediately filled my eyes. No. No. No. I imagined the fear she had to keep at bay, finally fighting it off with the sound of a healthy heart beat. The absolute devastation that followed.

I ache for her.

Selfishly, it terrified me.

If my future holds 50 babies in heaven and none in my arms, I’m not sure I want to go.

I want to shake my head no and close my eyes and ball up my fists and stomp my foot and tell God that if that is what He has in store for me, I am not going.

I can sit here and let my heart be filled with dread about tomorrow, about future loss and suffering. The fear could eat me alive. I could easily be overwhelmed with anxiety thinking of when and how long we will have to wait for our next baby will come... and how much I wish I was still carrying our first. Once we are pregnant, worries of when we will be pregnant will give way to a million more about keeping our baby and bringing our baby into this world. Then the worries will transform into a million more and different fears.

My mind sees black and white for moment: either I am pregnant or I’m not; either our future children will live or they will not. Regardless, God is almighty and loving and in control. There is nothing to fear.

I breathe out, release my hands, open my eyes, and resign to whatever He will call me to. 

There is no earthly pain that can remove my God from His throne. 

He has conquered death. I am safe.

I can finally feel the peace in that.

To be lost

10/09/2015

All week I have felt

drained

unmotivated

pointless

disengaged

worthless

depressed.

I can get through work. I can care for my patients. Then when I get home I feel utterly depleted. I’m tired of burdening others with my sadness. Everything and everyone else moves on. While I do too, a part of me is always thinking about and longing for my baby. People quit asking. So, I should be fixed right? It has been three months today, I should be “over this”, right?

I think to myself, I should trust what God is doing, but I don’t.

I know that His plan is better than my own, but I don’t believe it.

I know that studying and drawing near to Him is what I need, but I don’t want to.

My prayers are haphazard pleas to take these feelings away, but I don’t believe He will.

I do not take the time to meditate on the truth that what I need right now is Him; to be satisfied by Him; to find my worth in Him.

I wonder if this is what it feels like... to be lost.

To not know or understand your purpose, to not even be sure you have one. To constantly long for something else. To wander hopelessly.

I feel like someone who does not know Jesus, because I feel no joy in His truth.

It is a desolate place.

Photos by Anna Merrell Photography and Design

Photos by Anna Merrell Photography and Design

I read my dear friend’s blog this morning. http://www.katierainesblog.com/2015/10/do-it-any-way.html (She’s way cooler than me.)

I read about the way her friends had pointed her towards God, even when she didn’t want to hear it. I longed for it. I confronted her with my feelings.

She ever so gently pointed out that:

You could call it doubt, but it really isn't, because these pieces of truth that you just typed are just that. They are truth. You know deep in your heart that these are truth.

His plan is superior -TRUTH.

Studying can pull you closer to Him -TRUTH

He will satisfy you -TRUTH

He is where your worth is found -TRUTH

It would take a million lifetimes of hardship for your foundation on the rock to crumble. It can't crumble, because it's not founded on you or on circumstance, it's founded on Jesus. I think the things you listed following those truths are opinions, based on circumstance. Truth trumps circumstance. Truth trumps opinions.

I wish I knew the right words to say, but I do know that you really can't be lost, because you have already been found! Below the feelings of being worthlessness and depression, you are deep rooted in His truth. You are His. You are important and loved, there's a purpose for your life.

It seems so elementary, the difference between my feelings and the truth. But in the same instance it is so easy for these feelings to take over and control me.

It doesn't matter whether "I'm feeling it" or not... my righteousness does not waver. I stand in Christ's righteousness. Christ does not waver. While I feel all these things, these terrible things.. I am righteous.

I sit here now overwhelmed with praise and gratitude that my righteousness does not fall upon my shoulders. That these feelings are just that, feelings. They are not the truth. I can trust Him and what He is doing. I can be obedient to His call because I am His beloved, even when my feelings and self doubt tell me otherwise.

I may lose sight of my savior, my view of Him may blur, but He never loses sight of me.

Turn it off

09/27/2015

I had a dream last night that we had a baby.

I was trying to find the baby a bottle and I was getting frustrated because we didn’t have any matching bottles. (That might sound silly but it actually sounds exactly like me.)

I have such a deep desire to be a mother. I know that I am one, but I mean to care for and demonstrate God’s love to a child in this world; to hold our baby in my arms, to change diapers, and get up in the middle of the night.

Today, I just want Him to take this desire from me. 

It makes my heart ache to think that I am a mother, yet I cannot hold my baby. It makes my heart ache to wait. And today, maybe for just one day, I want a break from this strong desire He has placed on my heart.

But I know it will not cease.

And somewhere inside me, I know that He is faithful.

Meeting Morgan

09/24/2015

I met my best friend’s baby girl today.

I hadn’t been concerned about my feelings for this meeting. I had planned to go alone, as Michael could not take time off of work. A hour before I left he told me he could go with me.

When I woke up this morning filled with unexpected emotions I was grateful he lay beside me. I was filled with anxiety and sadness and anger. I was mad for having these feelings.  It had nothing to do with whom I was going to see, only what. Which was a series of moments I would not experience with my first child.

I think this requires explanation. For someone who has not experienced this loss, I think it is easy to regard these emotions as jealousy, as coveting, as bitterness, as comparison. But that is simply not the case. I was no way sad because my best friend has a baby and I do not. I was in no way angry because her baby lived and mine did not. I was not anxious because I desire what she has. This simply isn’t true.

While my heart urns to be present in my best friend’s most important days, my days continue to carry a weight of darkness. I will be present and experience the light with her. The dark part goes with me, and it aches for moments I did not experience with my baby. I pictured so many days on this earth that will never come with that child. It in no way minimizes the grandeur of and love I have her and her child. It is just the way it is now. That does not negate the fact that I am beyond grateful for this life. In fact, I would say that I recognize the absolute beauty of her life and love her with a love that I did not previously have the capacity for.

As we entered the room, pain filled me. The scene brought tears to my eyes and I visualized myself leaving and sobbing in the car as we left. I thought about what I had imagined for our baby. I bit my lip.

The second she was in my arms, tears filled my eyes for this life.  I was overcome with gratitude for her life and the beautiful way she has made my best friend a mother.  

And I fell in love.