Something a Little Different (Sharing Time)

I never set out for this to be a traditional blog; just a place to share pictures of my family for far flung friends and relatives. Most of you know what a difficult time we had conceiving our first two babies. Tragically the first pregnancy ended in miscarriage at nearly 12 weeks: devastation to two parents desperate to have a child of our own. Fortunately I was able to become pregnant soon after with Tiernan-our deepest love and greatest blessing. So you can imagine our surprise when we discovered I was pregnant a third time when Tiernan was only 11 months old. We never thought we’d ever have the joy of a surprise since we’d tried for so long unsuccessfully and were only able to conceive through the help of fertility medication and monitoring. I was nervous about the prospect of miscarriage again, but hoping that it was just a “one time thing” and surely my body had things “figured out” since I was able to become pregnant naturally. We were elated at six weeks when they were able to find a tiny baby and heartbeat: everything looked great! Two and a half weeks later, I started bleeding. I wasn’t exactly sure what to think since I did bleed with Tiernan. My emotions swung between trying to convince myself that everything was okay, and being completely devastated at the thought of another dead baby. Finally we decided late Saturday night to visit the ER, mostly to reassure ourselves that everything was okay. They were unable to find a heartbeat through ultrasound, and determined that the baby had very recently died, as it was measuring 8 weeks, 2 days.
That was about two weeks ago, Easter weekend. It has been an interesting grieving process. The first time I miscarried I was completely consumed with grief-daily functions seemed unreasonable, and I cried for two weeks non-stop, and every night for probably three months, with spontaneous bursts after that. This time, the sadness I feel comes in waves that bowl me over at random moments, and seems to ebb faster than the first time. This does not mean that it’s been any easier, just different. I still grieve for another baby that I’ll never get to hold, kiss, or see grow into an adult. I don’t even know if it was a boy or girl! This is perhaps the hardest part about a miscarriage: I don’t have the memories of a lost loved one, just the dreams about what he/she would be like.
The past couple of years have been the hardest in my short life. We’ve endured two lost babies, a tornado (and displacement from our house), two broken feet, one surgery, and lost wages for four months among other financial hardships. Yet I know that these things pale in comparison to what others have experienced, so at times (on top of everything else) I feel guilty for feeling sorry for myself when things could really be so much worse! I do realize we’ve also had enormous blessings of a beautiful baby boy and a new career for Ethan, but I must admit it’s been much harder to recognize the blessings amongst the hardships. I could write pages and pages about all the emotions I am feeling, but the summary is that I am still working through my feelings about God’s plans for our lives, and the purposes behind our trials. I’m not sure that I will ever come to a place where I feel like these miscarriages have been positive things that grew my faith tremendously. Instead, I chose to think that horrible things happen in this sinful world we are a part of, and I hope that God is there by my side to carry me through.
So my dear friends who are reading this from afar, please hold your kids and babies and tell them how very much you love them, even when they are making you absolutely crazy (and believe me I can sympathize!) Say a prayer for those mothers who may never have the blessings that you have in your children, or for those who have lost babies, like myself.