1 Samuel 1:23
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I am so overwhelmed by this story.
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In the beginning of 2015, as I thought about what I wanted from the coming year, I knew that learning to lean more completely on God was something I needed to improve. I am independent and like to be as self reliant as possible. I like to know the plan. And so, I began the year praying that God would teach me about trust. That at the end of the year I would be confident in my ability to TRUST GOD even when the plan seemed unclear. To TRUST GOD with the decision making in our lives.
The song "Oceans" was a song I went to for encouragement during Meghan's feeding struggles. It provided musical inspiration for my prayers over 2015. The lyrics "Spirit lead me where my trust is without borders. Let me walk upon the water. Wherever you would call me. Take me deeper than my feet could ever wander and my faith will be made stronger in the presence of my savior." - These words were my prayer over the year. I wanted to be like so many people I read about in the Bible who trusted God to do big things and saw Him work mightily in and through them. I wanted to learn to abandon all that I am and want to be to who I trust Him to be. I wanted to go deeper than I would ever choose to wander. And, I did, God carried me far deeper into leaning on Him than I would have ever chosen to wander....
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Sunday May 17th at 7:20 am - I gave birth to our second child. Seven months too soon.
This was somewhere I never wanted to be.
This was deeper than my feet would have ever chosen to wander.
There was nowhere to go but right into the open arms of my Father. And that's where I ran. That's where I stayed. That's where my ability to trust Him was tested.
And the harder I leaned into Him, the more I cried out to Him - the more he confirmed that He was good. That I could continue to trust Him.
I was learning to trust in a way I never had before.
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After our miscarriage, we talked about what we wanted to do next. There was the option to be done having children. There was the option to try again to get pregnant. While I have come to a place of relative peace with the fact that given out difficulties with conception (and, apparently, maintaining a pregnancy) our family will likely be smaller than I had dreamed of, we did not feel peace about having only one child. Meghan needs a sibling.
And so, from a place of pain, we began pursuing a third pregnancy.
I was learning to trust in a way I never had before.
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After the miscarriage, these lyrics were so true of where we were: "There is strength within the sorrow. There is beauty in our tears. And You meet us in our mourning with a love that casts out fear."
As we began infertility treatment again, the second part of that verse provided encouragement and challenging lyrics: "You are working in our waiting. You're sanctifying us. When beyond our understanding, you're teaching us to trust."
I knew that whatever the next several months held God was already in it. Whatever happened would continue to teach me trust - even when, like the miscarriage, it would be beyond my understanding. God's goal is my sanctification.
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Infertility treatment is difficult.
Miscarriage is heart-wrenchingly awful. Losing a child leaves such a wound on a mother's heart.
Infertility treatment after miscarriage is terrible and brings memories of the miscarriage back in waves. And it tempts constant fear that things will not be okay.
My body quickly adjusted to the miscarriage and returned to a state of "not pregnant" quickly and without the need for any medical intervention. We met with the infertility specialist and were told that in 4-6 weeks my body would be ready to try for another baby.
Eight weeks later - nothing. While my body knew it was no longer pregnant, hormonally, it just stopped there. My hormone levels never went back to normal. (While normal hormones are a completely different thing for women with PCOS than others, there is a normal state from which infertility treatment can begin.) I called my doctor and he and the infertility specialist talked and prescribed a hormone for me to take for a few days to jump start my body again. If the hormone did not work, it was possible that my body had sustained damage from the miscarriage or that my uterus had become cystic - two things that would mean no more babies for the Hoosiers. We had to wait 3 weeks to find out.
I was learning to trust in a way I never had before.
The hormone seemed to do what it needed to do and we started clomid just as we had for our previous two pregnancies. An ultrasound in 2 weeks would be the final test to determine whether my uterus was still able to carry a little one. Clomid made me emotional, and tired, and physically sick....it was by far a worse experience than the previous two times. While I knew God had a plan in this, I was frustrated by being here again, with only one child at home again.
On the day of my ultrasound, I left Meghan playing with a friend and prayed and prepped my heart for going back into the hospital. The infertility clinic is housed in the same hospital where we went to the ER during our miscarriage. This would be my first time returning on my own. I prayed all the way through the lobby, into the elevator, and to the fourth floor.
We did vitals. And I was left in a room to change into a hospital gown for the ultrasound. That's when it hit me. A huge crashing wave of memories. The last time I was in a hospital gown. The last time that I faced one of these machines. The last time confirmed that my baby was dead. The last time confirmed that my baby was gone. The last time I had an ultrasound was during the worst experience of my life.
I started praying. And breathing deeply. And trying to calm my rapidly racing heart. But as the nurse practitioner came into the room the tears flowed. She asked what was wrong and then remembered and gave me a big hug. She gave me a tissue and gave me a moment to collect myself and the ultrasound began.
It was confirmed that my uterus was healthy after the miscarriage. No cysts. No damage. Great news!
It also confirmed that the clomid had not worked as it had in the past. There was what appeared to be a slightly developed egg, but it wasn't big enough to be ready for conception. It was either an egg that needed more time to develop or a cyst that was swollen (potentially indicating further health problems). My heart was overcome with sadness. I was given an additional prescription to help my body identify which hormones it is supposed to be "listening" to during this phase and we scheduled an ultrasound for two days later to see if that growth was a developed egg or a potentially dangerous swollen cyst. That day I was frustrated. I was overwhelmed. I was sad.
Between the emotions and memories brought back by the ultrasound and the results of the ultrasound I was an emotional mess.
I was learning to trust in a way I never had before.
Two days later I returned for another ultrasound. I was prepared to face the machine. As I changed into my gown, I repeated over and over (and out loud) "you are just a machine." The ultrasound began and wonderful news! There was a healthy egg! No potentially dangerous cyst. Instead, a potential baby. As with the past two treatments, I was given a shot, a "good luck", and headed home.
Two weeks later, I woke at 4:30 and needed to go to the bathroom so badly that I could not fall back asleep. I was without the fear and trepidation that had accompanied me to these tests so many times in the past. I was calm. I knew that I was held in the arms of my father. And I knew that I could trust him to work a perfect plan in the life of our family.
By 4:35, a smile moved across my face. Positive. Baby #3.
After the storm of miscarriage, after the pain of losing a beloved child, another baby was coming.
Our Rainbow Baby!!
Blood tests confirmed pregnancy. Blood tests a few days later confirmed it again.
Our sweet rainbow baby - our rainbow of hope after the storm - is due in late April 2016!
We are elated. We are blessed.
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Pregnancy after miscarriage is already very different than pregnancy before.
Going to the bathroom brings a bit of anxiety - what if there's blood? Every hunger pain brings a small pang of fear - what if that's a contraction? It's a daily battle. But it's one I'm fighting. EVERY. SINGLE. DAY.
And I am still learning to trust.
But, much more than at the beginning of the year, trust is becoming more natural.
Fear and anxiety (my seemingly constant companions) are more easily pushed away in favor of trust.
As a result of going "deeper than my feet could ever wander", I have indeed found that my faith has been "made stronger in the presence of my savior."
I cling to and remind myself of this scripture throughout the day:
Be strong and very courageous.
Joshua 1:7a
I am confident in my God. He will work His good and perfect plan in our family.
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Children are a gift from the LORD.
Psalm 127:3a
Amen. Amen. And Amen.
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In case you're curious....
The Story of Our Baby #1 (Meghan)
The Story of Our Baby #2
Our Miscarriage Story
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