I remember a few weeks after my miscarriage I had a thought. I thought, "Am I healing too quickly? Is this normal?" What I don't remember is how or when I stopped leaning on the Lord. I must have thought I had this. That's the only thing I can think of. I had to of subconsciously thought that I was officially ok. I must have stopped leaning on him, stood up, and tried to walk.
That was a mistake.
If my daughters or sons are reading this. Do not follow your Mother's example in this instance.
For the past month I have been fighting depression. I haven't been able to see the point in doing anything. I still tried, I trucked on through it. Joshua has and always has been taken care of. Jacob didn't even notice until it was more than I could hide and I finally started to talk to him about a week ago. I felt abandoned, but I think it was me. I KNOW Heavenly Father never abandons us. He stays right there, hand outstretched. I lost sight of His hand for a minute and it almost broke me.
Everything went stagnant. Everything stood still. Jacob and I started fighting about all kinds of things. I saw no progress anywhere in my life. I didn't see any opportunity for progress, I felt forced into a small room where I was not allowed to move or better myself or better my life. I was being kicked down every single time I thought I could stand. It was my own personal nightmare. It wasn't until recently that I even had enough brain power to connect it to my miscarriage. I don't remember though. I don't remember letting go of God's hand.
I had to of though.
I've been sick. On and off for the entire month of October I had one illness after another. Only just now am I finally getting over the latest one: Senor UTI. I think it had to of happened somewhere in the haze of the fevers and the pain. I just let myself let go and feel lost. I hope it wasn't a Job-like situation. I think if it was, I failed. I never cursed God. But I certainly felt that He had left me and I begged to know why. It wasn't until I realized that He hadn't that I even began to let myself be comforted.
I still feel very haggard from it all. And afraid. I'm terrified.
I am terrified because I found something out today. We haven't been as careful as we should have been this month. I don't know what will happen. I haven't told a soul yet. I haven't said it out loud and I'm afraid to even type it. I think that I know it will all be ok. I'll survive again if the worst is to be. I can't help but wonder though if I really will survive. Will it undo me? Is this life destined to take everything from me, including but not limited to my sanity?
But these are thoughts very similar to the ones I have been having lately. I wish I could control the outcome, and because I cannot I prepare for and expect the worst. I have so much in this life. I have eternal marriage, I have my son who we are sealed to for eternity, I have my home, I have my extended family, I have the gospel, and I have a testimony of that gospel.
It's a funny to thing to be in my own personal hell, and yet my testimony is not shaken. It is as strong as it was and it will continue to grow. I never doubted the Lord's plan for the world, I just seem to struggle with (and maybe I always have) remembering that the plan includes me too. The Lord did not forget me, I did. So maybe I was wrong kids. If you find yourself lost and you don't remember how you got there, think about this. Maybe give me a call. The Lord has not forgotten you.
And yes, His hand is still right where it has always been. Outstretched and waiting for you to accept it.
Wednesday, November 11, 2015
Tuesday, September 8, 2015
The Lord Understands
It's interesting and it's sad all at once. As common as miscarriages are, so few people understand or even try. Today was supposed to be my first doctor appointment. We should have heard the baby's heartbeat today. Instead as I was leaving the office I heard someone else's baby's heartbeat. And it hurt. I am so happy for them that it hurt. People look at me and just see someone that was almost pregnant. But I was pregnant. I had life inside me if only for a few weeks.
The woman at the WIC counter didn't even care. I said that I had miscarried so we can cancel the pregnant woman's appointment I had scheduled. She just looked at me blankly and said that they had never officially put it in the computer. Like I was the one being ridiculous. I wanted to scream at her. I wanted her to attempt to understand the pain. But I just rescheduled Joshua's appointment and moved on.
The medicaid lady was all numbers. She wanted to be comforting. She said, "I knooow hun. I knooow." I think she just didn't know how to get business done and talk to a human being at the same time. It hadn't even occurred to me that Medicaid for pregnant women wouldn't have a plan for miscarriages. Is our society so caught up in wanting to kill our babies that they just don't think women who have miscarriages need any help? The woman tried to graze over it, but there on the paperwork it grouped miscarriage in with abortion. Like it was the same thing. Abortion was even the main word. Miscarriage was in parenthesis, like an afterthought. Like it was the same thing. I wanted to shout at her that I wanted my baby. That a part of me had died when that ER doctor told me I was having a miscarriage. I wanted to call whoever made that stupid paper and yell at them until I no longer had a voice.
Heavenly Father is still with me. And I think it's what saved these people from my grief. Thinking about it now, I know that their mixed reactions are normal. They don't know. They have no idea. They don't know how to touch the sadness in my heart and they probably don't want to. It's a nightmare that changes you forever and people are scared of that. Because usually it's a negative change. Usually it chips away at your heart until you can't feel anything but the loss.
A few days ago I felt ready to ask Pinterest for the world of experiences that millions have shared. Some of it touched my heart and healed me just a little. Some of it stated gracefully things that will always be a part of me now. One was beautiful, simple, and short. It just said, "I will always wonder who you would have been." But mostly there was pain. So much pain. The resounding note was a bitterness that I find difficult to describe. I cried for them and I cried because I know that without Heavenly Father that is where I would be. It is so easy to go to that place. I continually feel it close by, a constant option. But I know that I can take my questions to the Lord. I know that He is with me, and all I need to do is reach out and I am once again on a path of healing. I have never felt and seen so clearly how the choice is truly ours. To choose the comfort of the Lord, or "endless misery and woe".
I'm still sore. My body is so tired and sore. Between my appointments this morning and Joshua's shots this afternoon, I was already wiped out and I could have slept for hours. But shots don't work that way. They are tough. So I had a short nap while Jacob was home and before Joshua really got bad. He just cried and cried. He wouldn't take a bottle. He did eat some dinner, so that was good. I used some essential oils on him, and he loves those. We gave him a little Melatonin. Before long he had cried himself to sleep while I rocked him. Hopefully it's a restful sleep and his body can deal with the shots. I just checked on him and he seems to be sleeping soundly and comfortably.
That is always what I revert to. I don't think it's a bad thing, but I think it is interesting. I can only handle all of this in phases. Most of the time I'm glad that normal life keeps going on with or without me. I can put my pain and grief in a little spot in my soul and take care of myself and my family. And when I need to take it out and deal with a piece of it I do. I don't try to muffle it. I think that's important and that it's what the Lord wants me to do.
The woman at the WIC counter didn't even care. I said that I had miscarried so we can cancel the pregnant woman's appointment I had scheduled. She just looked at me blankly and said that they had never officially put it in the computer. Like I was the one being ridiculous. I wanted to scream at her. I wanted her to attempt to understand the pain. But I just rescheduled Joshua's appointment and moved on.
The medicaid lady was all numbers. She wanted to be comforting. She said, "I knooow hun. I knooow." I think she just didn't know how to get business done and talk to a human being at the same time. It hadn't even occurred to me that Medicaid for pregnant women wouldn't have a plan for miscarriages. Is our society so caught up in wanting to kill our babies that they just don't think women who have miscarriages need any help? The woman tried to graze over it, but there on the paperwork it grouped miscarriage in with abortion. Like it was the same thing. Abortion was even the main word. Miscarriage was in parenthesis, like an afterthought. Like it was the same thing. I wanted to shout at her that I wanted my baby. That a part of me had died when that ER doctor told me I was having a miscarriage. I wanted to call whoever made that stupid paper and yell at them until I no longer had a voice.
Heavenly Father is still with me. And I think it's what saved these people from my grief. Thinking about it now, I know that their mixed reactions are normal. They don't know. They have no idea. They don't know how to touch the sadness in my heart and they probably don't want to. It's a nightmare that changes you forever and people are scared of that. Because usually it's a negative change. Usually it chips away at your heart until you can't feel anything but the loss.
A few days ago I felt ready to ask Pinterest for the world of experiences that millions have shared. Some of it touched my heart and healed me just a little. Some of it stated gracefully things that will always be a part of me now. One was beautiful, simple, and short. It just said, "I will always wonder who you would have been." But mostly there was pain. So much pain. The resounding note was a bitterness that I find difficult to describe. I cried for them and I cried because I know that without Heavenly Father that is where I would be. It is so easy to go to that place. I continually feel it close by, a constant option. But I know that I can take my questions to the Lord. I know that He is with me, and all I need to do is reach out and I am once again on a path of healing. I have never felt and seen so clearly how the choice is truly ours. To choose the comfort of the Lord, or "endless misery and woe".
I'm still sore. My body is so tired and sore. Between my appointments this morning and Joshua's shots this afternoon, I was already wiped out and I could have slept for hours. But shots don't work that way. They are tough. So I had a short nap while Jacob was home and before Joshua really got bad. He just cried and cried. He wouldn't take a bottle. He did eat some dinner, so that was good. I used some essential oils on him, and he loves those. We gave him a little Melatonin. Before long he had cried himself to sleep while I rocked him. Hopefully it's a restful sleep and his body can deal with the shots. I just checked on him and he seems to be sleeping soundly and comfortably.
That is always what I revert to. I don't think it's a bad thing, but I think it is interesting. I can only handle all of this in phases. Most of the time I'm glad that normal life keeps going on with or without me. I can put my pain and grief in a little spot in my soul and take care of myself and my family. And when I need to take it out and deal with a piece of it I do. I don't try to muffle it. I think that's important and that it's what the Lord wants me to do.
Wednesday, September 2, 2015
We Almost Had A Baby.
I don't want to post this on Facebook.
I don't want 30 different people knocking on our door or messaging me asking if they can help or asking me questions in general.
I just want to remember. I want a piece of this to show my daughters when they go through this. So they know how very much I know what they are going through. I want to show my sons when their wives are crying and they don't know how to help them.
It hurts. I knew that though. I knew that miscarriages hurt. I knew that they hurt physically and they hurt emotionally. But I didn't really know. There is no way to prepare for this.
I knew something was wrong. I could feel it. I can't explain why. There were signs of course, but they could have been just as likely to be perfectly normal. It's just a feeling I kept having that I kept waving away like a fly I didn't want to deal with. I finally said something on Monday night when my fever spiked and I suddenly had the flu. I looked at Jacob and I said I didn't feel right. I felt like something was wrong.
I cried a lot last night. I knew before the Doctor even said it, but it hit me just as hard anyway. They gave us a moment, and Jacob gave me a blessing. How grateful I am for that blessing! Right as I thought I was going to lose it, it was like I heard God begging me to take His hand. I felt Him place angels to hold me up. It doesn't take the pain away, but I can wrap my head around it. I know that Heavenly Father has a plan for me. This is just an incredibly painful part of that plan. It reminds of the analogy of the clay pot. Or was it a kettle? Regardless, it's clay. It goes through and immense amount of manhandling and heat in order to become what the artist always wanted it to be. Beautiful. Perfect. Let's just say that I'm being molded.
There is a lot to do. A lot of family to tell. Insurance to notify. And who knows if I will be able to. The pain of the contractions is getting worse. Maybe I should take more pain medication after all.
I have my to do list. I feel at this point that I just want to get through this painful experience. I don't want to dwell, I want to just be in it. Let myself cry when I need to cry. Let myself be slow when I can't handle going any faster. Let myself be quiet when I need quiet. I'll get through this as long as I hang on to my Heavenly Father. I can feel Him hanging on to me for dear life.
I don't want 30 different people knocking on our door or messaging me asking if they can help or asking me questions in general.
I just want to remember. I want a piece of this to show my daughters when they go through this. So they know how very much I know what they are going through. I want to show my sons when their wives are crying and they don't know how to help them.
It hurts. I knew that though. I knew that miscarriages hurt. I knew that they hurt physically and they hurt emotionally. But I didn't really know. There is no way to prepare for this.
I knew something was wrong. I could feel it. I can't explain why. There were signs of course, but they could have been just as likely to be perfectly normal. It's just a feeling I kept having that I kept waving away like a fly I didn't want to deal with. I finally said something on Monday night when my fever spiked and I suddenly had the flu. I looked at Jacob and I said I didn't feel right. I felt like something was wrong.
I cried a lot last night. I knew before the Doctor even said it, but it hit me just as hard anyway. They gave us a moment, and Jacob gave me a blessing. How grateful I am for that blessing! Right as I thought I was going to lose it, it was like I heard God begging me to take His hand. I felt Him place angels to hold me up. It doesn't take the pain away, but I can wrap my head around it. I know that Heavenly Father has a plan for me. This is just an incredibly painful part of that plan. It reminds of the analogy of the clay pot. Or was it a kettle? Regardless, it's clay. It goes through and immense amount of manhandling and heat in order to become what the artist always wanted it to be. Beautiful. Perfect. Let's just say that I'm being molded.
There is a lot to do. A lot of family to tell. Insurance to notify. And who knows if I will be able to. The pain of the contractions is getting worse. Maybe I should take more pain medication after all.
I have my to do list. I feel at this point that I just want to get through this painful experience. I don't want to dwell, I want to just be in it. Let myself cry when I need to cry. Let myself be slow when I can't handle going any faster. Let myself be quiet when I need quiet. I'll get through this as long as I hang on to my Heavenly Father. I can feel Him hanging on to me for dear life.
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