11/8/2015 3 days after we lost our second
Yesterday I cleaned and organized everything I could in an attempt to control something and look at things that are in no way a reflection of the way I feel.
I woke up this morning in my clean sheets, my body sore, blisters tender from my rampage to make things pretty and I found that my heart is literally hurting. There are no chores to do today, aside from some laundry, and I don’t know what to do with myself. I ache.
We went to church. We made it through a song and a half before tears were streaming down my face and I felt like my walls were going to collapse in on me. Singing of God’s healing powers and deliverance, while ever true, I just could not do today. I walked quickly out of the service, out of the building before my sobs became audible and my husband took me home.
I feel heavy today, burdened by our hopes for this child that have been dashed; burdened by dread of outside world. I thought I was doing better this time. Today lacks that peace; today lacks promise.
I asked God to take away the overwhelming desire to be pregnant. I can assure you that He has. When we lost our first baby, at first I said I didn’t want to get pregnant right away... I lied, and demonstrated sheepish, hesitancy towards becoming pregnant again… All the while desperately wanting to. It is much different now. I absolutely dread the thought of seeing two lines again. Especially before doing more to see what could be wrong with me. There is an odd relief in not constantly fighting off fear, maybe that is part of the difference this time.
We have lost greatly, but for the moment, no more babies are threatened inside my body. I am not paralyzed by fear that I am losing one. I pray that during this interim, God would deal with my fears and show me more of His promises and character so that one day, I will fear not.
After losing our first baby, my best friend wrote this to me in a letter,
“I wish so desperately things were different...I long that God would have extended a delivering grace during this season of your life. A “yes” to your prayers. Rather than a sustaining grace. The kind that holds you during the storm but doesn’t calm it. The kind that seems useless and callous and insufficient. The no to your prayers.”
I had never pondered the difference. I keep asking for deliverance and feeling forsaken. However, I must not mistake His sovereignty for absence. (Wasn’t I just praising his sovereignty a few days ago?) As I have learned, it is my feelings that change, my circumstances that change… but my God, He does not.
Then she shared this scripture, Psalm 22:1-3
“My God, my God, why have you forsaken me? Why are you so far from saving me, so far from the words of my groaning? O my God, I cry out by day, but you do not answer, by night, and am not silent. Yet, you are enthroned as the Holy One.”
“My God, my God, why have you forsaken me? Why are you so far from saving me, so far from the words of my groaning? O my God, I cry out by day, but you do not answer, by night, and am not silent. Yet, you are enthroned as the Holy One.”
Today his grace feels useless and callous and insufficient. I do not see His healing in sight.
Yet.
