With my body and my spirit healed; I knew I just had to try again. In April of '93, we found out that we would be having another baby. Blake would turn two that July. Our two children would be a little farther apart in age than we had planned, but we were thrilled.
I had to start with a new doctor, since the doctor that had delivered Blake stopped delivering babies. I was not happy about this, but it was a minor thing compared to my joy at being pregnant again. I had my first appointment with the doctor, which was just for bloodwork; mainly a confirmation that I was indeed pregnant. I remember that day so well. That day it was "official" that a second baby was coming. Blake had stayed with Miss Judy while I went to my appointment. I was so thrilled, that I came home before picking up Blake so I could write a note to Daddy that I would give him that night to surprise him with the news. But before I did anything, I remember so vividly how I walked in the front door, dropped my purse on the floor and fell to my knees in our little living room. I was on my knees crying and thanking God for this second chance to be a mother; thanking Him for allowing another life to grow in me after losing a baby just months before; pleading with him to allow this pregnancy to go full term.
Then I wrote a note to Daddy that I would give him later that evening; and went and picked up your brother. And then we were happy. We started planning our lives as a family of four. We started talking about names. We wondered how Blake would adjust to a new sibling. I allowed myself to picture a little red headed girl that looked just like her big brother.
Until one day in May. I was at the stop light by Wal-Mart running errands with Blake. I was wearing a blue and coral short outfit. I felt a slight cramping in my abdomen. And I whispered "Please God, no. Not again."
I finished my outing with Blake and went home and called the doctor, who I had not really officially even met yet. But I was a registered patient and I knew I needed to call. I explained what was happening and she said it could be nothing, but I should rest and drink lots of fluids and that "if you are losing the baby, there is nothing to be done." I truly missed my previous doctor at that moment. Not that he could have done anything to prevent what was happening, but he was familiar and I was so comfortable with him. She had said it could be nothing to worry about, but I knew. I knew I was losing this baby too. I started thinking back over the previous few days and realized that I had felt different. I had not felt pregnant. I called Daddy and told him what was happening. He told his boss he would probably not be back the next day and came home.
I tried to go about my evening and pretend I didn't feel those cramps in my abdomen that were coming with increasing regularity.
I had my second miscarriage that night. My heart broke that night. I became angry at God that night. But I wasn't brave enough to say that out loud. I just wanted to cry to him "Don't you remember? Didn't you see me on my knees thanking you? Didn't you hear my cries of joy? Didn't you hear me beg you to let this pregnancy go full term? Why? Why? Why?" But I didn't. I didn't say anything to Him. I gave Him the silent treatment for a few weeks. I didn't even sing in church. My spirit was bruised, nearly broken.
Until one day, for some reason I though of Mary - Jesus' mother. She lost a child. And Jesus watched her lose that child. He was that child. Jesus saw her as He hung on the cross. He had to watch His mother watch Him die. He knew a mother's grief. He was never a mother, but He still knew. That is why He is who He is. Because He can feel what we feel. And so I began to feel a little more hopeful. I began to sing in church again.
Also, my sister - your Aunt Rena - gave me a gift that helped me heal. She called one day a couple weeks after this micarriage. I had heard so many "condolence" phrases, most of which started with "At least..." phrases that were meant to comfort but seemed to minimize my grief.
I was bracing myself to hear more of that through the phone line. But there was no "At least." She said "I know there is nothing I can say to make you feel better. So I called to listen."
And she did. For at least an hour, she listened on the phone while I cried and talked and worked through my pain. To this day, 14 years later, I cannot think of that phone call without my eyes filling with tears. I have always said that she gave me the greatest gift ever - the gift of silence when words were worthless. I have always said that I began to heal on that day.
Again, God's timing is good. For a short while I met with a group of women who had experienced miscarriages or other infant losses. I heard stories from women who had been through things that made my loss seem so small and insignificant. It was hard for me not to say to myself "Toughen up. You've been through NOTHING compared to these women." But none of them ever made me feel that way; it was just me realizing the realm of pain that was everywhere in this world. And I now know the pain another woman feels when she loses a baby. I can't take that pain away but I can feel it with her. As Jarrod said in church recently, I can't carry her burden, but maybe I can carry her for a while. Maybe I can give another woman the same gift my sister gave me.
And so once again, my body and my spirit healed and I was NOT going to give up on being a mother to AT LEAST two children. We celebrated Blake's 2nd birthday with a Big Bird cake. We had a busy summer with our little family of three, all the while hoping to be four one day.
And in early September, we found out that indeed another baby was on the way. I was afraid to be excited but I could not stop myself from picturing our family with a new baby in it. I could not stop myself from thinking of names and planning a nursery. I could not stop myself from circling April 28 on the calendar "DUE DATE!!" I kept telling myself I should not get my hopes up, but you know how I am about babies. I just couldn't help it. Once again, I was on my knees thanking God for this chance to be a mother again, and PLEADING with him to allow this baby to be born full term.
You know, Kayla, that I had two miscarriages, so you must know that this pregnancy was the beginning of YOU. But did you know what an exciting ride those nine months would turn out to be...?
More Later....
1 comment:
I love this series.
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