All I wanted was to close the curtains, turn off the music and phone, curl up on the couch with a container of Peanut Butter cup ice cream, and a sappy novel. I wanted to immerse myself in a story other than my own. I wanted out of my world, because I just didn't like it! I didn't much care that there were dishes spreading at least half the length of my countertop, or laundry covering most of my bedroom floor.
Wow. Typed out, that looks even uglier than it sounded in my head.
So, that's what I wanted. But, because I've given up sweets and fiction reading for Lent, this particular escape route wasn't an option, although it was certainly tempting! For a little while, I just sat on the couch and cried, staring at my four walls and wanting to be out while at the same time, knowing I couldn't muster up the energy it would take to actually leave the house and go do something.
Why the sadness and tears? Because two weeks ago, we found out that it was very likely that I was having a miscarriage. Why only very likely instead of certain, you ask? Because we didn't know I was pregnant. For a little bit of privacy and for the sake of any male readers, I'll spare you all the specific details that led us to this conclusion!!
The first day was after a night shift, so I wandered around in my typical tired fog, plus a little more than normal as I wondered what was happening. The second day I just kept feeling like the hardest thing was that I just don't know what happened. I felt stupid and silly grieving over something that could have simply been an irregular cycle! At the wisdom of my lovely
sister, I prayed that the Lord would just make it clear to me whether or not it was anything, hoping that, as she suggested, perhaps I would just remember that we were apart or sleeping in somebody else's house or something when anything could have happened! Well, I feel, without a doubt, that our kind Lord made it clear to me. Not in the way I would have wished, but clear nonetheless, which is what I asked for. That afternoon, the Lord brought to mind several things from the last two weeks that made it entirely possible. Symptoms that I had when I was pregnant with Logan and at no other time in my life, but tiny things that I might not otherwise notice. Like my husband mentioning as we lied down one night that I was just almost hot to the touch, and did I feel sick? (Exactly what happened with Logan) I didn't really think anything of it then, and didn't even remember it until that day.
By that evening, I felt a whole lot of different things! A large part of me felt increasingly sad and feeling like we missed out. Sad for the little life that was already gone, before we knew it was even there. Sad to not have the opportunity to tell Danny about a baby on the way, or tell family, or see a sonogram and hear a heartbeat. But while that feeling was there and very strong for several days, I felt something else growing increasingly strong. I felt peace.
Now you may think I'm crazy. That's okay with me. Maybe I am. Maybe I made up all of these things in my head. But I'm choosing to believe that my Jesus was kind enough to answer me, to bring clarity to my thoughts and memories so that I could feel certainty about what was going on in my body. I felt like I should feel angry, or bitter, or discontent. But peace, really?! You see, in my dark days, my Lord and Savior was kind enough to meet me there, and that gives me peace! Psalm 34:18 says that
"The Lord is near to the brokenhearted and saves the crushed in spirit." I feel peace that this little one will never take a breath, that we'll never know if it was a boy or a girl.
Because I feel strongly settled that this was our Lord's will. Because we were not trying to get pregnant, and not in the "we're not trying, but not preventing" way either. It doesn't make sense that I got pregnant. But I did. It doesn't make sense that I was so aware of everything going on in my body, but I was. It doesn't make sense to feel peace, but I do! Psalm 139:13-16 was also comforting to me as I considered this whole process, and thought about verse 15 in particular. "
My frame was not hidden from you, when I was being made in secret, intricately woven in the depths of the earth." I know this baby was known by our God, even if he or she was never known by us.
Now don't get me wrong. This doesn't mean that I'm not confused. This doesn't mean that I'm not sad and grieving! I've cried more tears in the last 2 weeks than I have in a very long time!! I wonder why, if our Lord was going to let me lose this baby, why He chose to let it happen in the first place? But I'm glad to know that if this was going to happen, it was at the hand of our all-knowing, ever-loving Father, and not just a random event. I also don't think that it is a coincidence that this happened at a time when my two most comforting "escapes" were gone (the ice cream and novels!), my husband and I barely got to see each other, and I just felt kind of alone! (Not that I even was! I had many friends and family members around me throughout all of this - and I'm so grateful for all of them, every kind word!) But this meant that instead of just running away, I ran to Him. I ran to the only one who can truly provide any kind of comfort and peace, and He did.
And I'm so glad He did.
