What a rough week. I was hoping that the next post I would make would be a lovely announcement, instead it will be a reflection of loss.
Brett and I have had a hard road on our journey to start a family. Two failed attempts before Emma, and now three more for any additional children. This last one has been a hard one to get through. We thought we had addressed my newly diagnosed fertility roadblock. After adding a medication to boost my progesterone to the seven other meds that I take for my clotting disorder, we were on our way. Eight weeks in with a growing belly and perfect labs, we went in for our second ultrasound to see if our two gestational sacs had produced any little heartbeats that we would be able to visualize. Instead, we saw only two empty sacs.
Six. That is the number of babies we have lost.
We came home Monday after our hopeful hearts were broken. I crawled under my covers for about a day and a half and cried. And prayed. Then cried some more.
By Tuesday afternoon, I was able to smile.
By Wednesday, I was able to live again.
I was able to look at Emma and know just what a miracle she is to us. I was able to recognize what a wonderful husband I have to cry with me, and travel this road with me.
I know we are not being punished. I know that not having a natural ability to make babies without any complications does not mean I'm not suppose to have babies, or that I'm less of a mom. I am an awesome mom. I love everything about it. And I know that God knows I'm an awesome mom too. He lets me struggle because he knows that I'm the kind of mom who will go through any test, any painful procedure, any heartbreak to hold my babies. He knows that if I have babies who cry a lot, and struggle with colic and reflux, then I will hold them closer, love them harder, and go through all the heartbreak all over to do it all again.
I'm over all the "why me" questions. I know why. I'm strong.
I simply have to cry it out and pray. Pray for patience. Pray for strength. Pray for appreciation. Pray for the past and our future. Pray for the courage to continue down this path. Pray for my doctors. Pray for those who have had stillborn babies or have lost their babies to SIDS. Pray for the moms and dads holding their babies undergoing cancer treatments, or heart transplants. Pray for my husband and my baby girl.
And you know what? There is nothing more precious than finding your peace in prayer. Physically feeling the arms of the Lord around you in a dark room under a pile of Kleenex. With every heartbreak and every loss, I've been pulled in a little closer. I can appreciate life a little more. I can fall in love with my daughter harder. And I know the awesome reward at the end. A stronger relationship with Christ. A more Christ centered family. A beautiful child being raised to know Christ.
When you lean in on Jesus, trust him, cry to him, pray to him, read him, know him...you have no choice but to breathe him into every part of life.
Our journey is not about our struggles at all... it's about letting God take control, drive the car, then keep the keys when we get there.