Pregnancy after Miscarriage

The most comforting thing I've had said to me about miscarriage and pregnancy after miscarriage was spoken by a male doctor who (at the time) had been in in the business so long he had delivered at least one of my siblings.

When I came in after most of the bleeding from the miscarriage had stopped, he did an ultrasound to make sure that everything had vacated my womb, and then before he left me to clean up and compose myself before going to the check-out desk, he sat down, asked me if my husband and I were planning on trying again soon, to which I answered "yes! as soon as possible!"

He gave me a time frame in which to let my body heal, and then, looking me squarely in the face, said very simply, "The only thing this miscarriage is going to affect with your next pregnancy is your nerves."

That one sentence has stuck with me more than I can describe. In it he said, "You're fertile. You can get pregnant again. You should have no problem carrying a healthy baby to term. This wasn't your fault."

God has been amazingly good to me this past year. In it I've experienced his goodness in the most harrowing time I've ever known. After the miscarriage he carried me, held me, comforted me, placed people in my life to comfort me, showed me how he'd experienced the loss of his Son on my behalf, and when month after month of trying passed with no pregnancy, he taught me patience and how to rejoice with other mothers. In fact the month before I found out I was actually pregnant I finally had to give my jealousy to him and rejoice with a close friend of mine. Her announcement made me cry, but for the first time, I was able to be happy with her without thinking "That should be me!"

I'm not saying I learned to trust God in every way before he opened my womb again. I'm just saying, I saw a divine peace invading my soul when I very much wanted to hold onto my jealousy and hurt.

The month God placed life in my womb again, I was fairly certain it had happened almost right away, but didn't want to hope until the pregnancy test came out positive. I wanted my hope to be in my salvation through Christ, not whether or not I was finally pregnant this month. The test came out positive and through my joy, I immediately experienced fear. Michael told me he, too, was fearful. We prayed a lot. Then we told our parents.

I had decided before I became pregnant that the next time I was pregnant I wanted to announce the pregnancy as soon as I was pregnant, because it's God's doing that there's a life in there. I wanted to give him the glory, and express my belief that life really does begin at conception. Each life should be celebrated immediately, if it really and truly is life, I told myself.

However, once I got pregnant, my fear made me want to clam my mouth shut, just in case. I didn't want to tell people and then have to tell them that I'd lost another baby. Within the first week, I let maybe 3 or 4 people know outside of family. They became my prayer community.

Fear continued to stand in the corner of the room and stare at me for the next several weeks, even after I had conviction from God that I wasn't glorifying him as I should and started telling people that I was pregnant again. Every time I went to the bathroom and saw there was no blood in my underwear, I had a small moment of worship. Each symptom that cropped up was a blessing. I thanked God when I felt nauseated. I worried when I didn't feel nauseated. On really fearful days when all fear would do was perch on my shoulder and whisper in my ear, I'd text my prayer buddies a line such as "Having a fearful day today. Please pray." and I'd get wonderful texts back saying they were interceding before the throne of God for me. It is such a blessing to have prayer warriors as friends. Fear would recede to the corner again, or sometimes leave the room altogether.

My first doctor's appointment and ultrasound were fearful events. Michael came with me. I had a blood pressure rate through the roof because I was so nervous and he talked at me non-stop while we waited. Then we saw the baby, right on track with where it should be, hear the heart beat, so strong and healthy sounding. I cried in the car, and quite a few times after that. Michael said he preferred these happy tears.

All this being said, even though I'm almost 14 weeks, there are times I realize I'm still unconsciously checking for blood. I would say fear has pretty much left the room. It's faded since the first ultrasound, but that doctor was right. The only thing I have experienced in spades, thanks to my miscarriage, is fear. Each week that I've gotten to past 6 weeks has been a small celebration. Feeling my uterus pop above my pelvic bone has been beautiful. Seeing and listening to my baby's heart beat twice has moved me to tears both times.

God has been exceptionally good, in carrying me through the miscarriage, and in carrying me through the nerves of this second pregnancy. While I would never wish a miscarriage on anyone, especially their first baby, I can say that had it not happened, I would be a lesser person today. I would love God less, I would love my husband less, I would love this baby less, I would be less compassionate.

I still have a ways to go both in pregnancy and in learning to love God, but God will be there with me every single step of the way, and so will my husband. :) I think I'm covered pretty well.

Soli Deo Gloria
~H

Finding Contentment, Finding the Cross

So, the last several days have been rather eye-opening. As some of you know, since my miscarriage with Alexandra, Michael and I have been trying again to get pregnant. The months between there and here have been filled with mostly regularity, with the last few weeks before my period being nerve-wracking. I've thought more than once that I was possibly pregnant again because my body decided after the miscarriage that it would now be normal to have all the symptoms of pregnancy starting about 10 days before my period is supposed to start. While exciting, eventually, when my period comes, or (as has happened a couple times) is late and I've taken pregnancy tests, it's been rather disappointing.

This past week has been the same, as my period was inexplicably about 4 days late. This caused me a great deal of hope, two pregnancy tests, and almost tears yesterday when I started spotting. I had been praying for at least a week that I would be able to trust God, no matter what, and last evening as I was teary (or close to it) and being held by Michael, I wondered why most women (and I say most, not all) desire children so badly. Why, I asked myself, do women desire to have children so badly that it drives even the most level-headed to distraction? Why is it that when a woman is trying to get pregnant it very nearly consumes her thoughts and being? Is it because it's her body we're talking about? Or is it something else entirely?

I actually think it's something more than that. I think for many women, it's a status symbol to not only be able to bear children but to also be seen carrying a baby in your body. Some may not consciously call it a status symbol, but it is nonetheless. All your friends are doing it, and while everybody but you is doing it, they are also having fun, looking stylish, and gaining something that the childless you doesn't have. It doesn't help that with social media, everyone can see what everyone else's "perfect" lives look like. (I think it's important to note that Facebook, Instagram, and other social media are a very edited version of other people's lives. Lives are very seldom perfect.)

I think as we age and go through various stages in life we go from coveting and desiring one thing to coveting and desiring another thing. When we're little it's the other girl's dress-up box or nail polish collection. Then it progresses to relationships, "Why does she have a boyfriend when all the boys run from me?" Once you're in a relationship, you might start comparing your relationship to others ("He's always bringing her flowers!"), or wanting that engagement ring. Once you're married, you think it will just all go away, but it's someone's house ("We're still in an apartment!"), pregnancy ("All I've had is a miscarriage."), children ("Why are they so well-behaved and mine aren't?"), job ("He makes more than I do!"), station in life, adventures ("They're always traveling!"), retirement age ("Really? 42?!"), second house, and so on.

What this latest round of anxiety, hope, and disappointment has served to reinforce is that I am not content with what I have. As a Christian, haven't I got everything I will ever, ever need in Christ? Hasn't Jesus' death on the cross (for the sins I willingly commit/ed) so he could reconcile me to God shown me this? God showed me once that I would never need a human knight-in-shining-armor, because He is all I need. Now he has shown me that if I never have children, or never get pregnant again, he will still be enough, because I am His child. Will I still fail to forget that I have more than I need in God? Yes. But, now I know and can look back at this post and be reminded of this. More importantly, I can now look at my life and ask the important question, "What else am I not satisfied with? Where else am I failing to see how God is more than enough in my life?"

I challenge you with that question too. If this post has touched you, where are the places in your life that you see your discontentment with the God who is, has, and gives everything you need when you need it most? As I've learned, the fastest way to gain contentment is to repent of my sin of unbelief and discontentment and to look to the cross. May my eyes always be drawn there.

I leave you with this wonderful quote by C.S. Lewis, a favorite author of mine, that outlines this perfectly from his book Mere Christianity.

“Your real, new self (which is Christ's and also yours, and yours just because it is His) will not come as long as you are looking for it. It will come when you are looking for Him. Does that sound strange? The same principle holds, you know, for more everyday matters. Even in social life, you will never make a good impression on other people until you stop thinking about what sort of impression you are making. Even in literature and art, no man who bothers about originality will ever be original whereas if you simply try to tell the truth (without caring twopence how often it has been told before) you will, nine times out of ten, become original without ever having noticed it. The principle runs through all life from top to bottom, Give up yourself, and you will find your real self. Lose your life and you will save it. Submit to death, death of your ambitions and favourite wishes every day and death of your whole body in the end submit with every fibre of your being, and you will find eternal life. Keep back nothing. Nothing that you have not given away will be really yours. Nothing in you that has not died will ever be raised from the dead. Look for yourself, and you will find in the long run only hatred, loneliness, despair, rage, ruin, and decay. But look for Christ and you will find Him, and with Him everything else thrown in.”

~H

On Chaos...When It's Supposed to be Summer

Chaos is a good way to describe my life right now.

About four days ago, Michael and I moved our whole house across town to a slightly larger place that will allow him to commute to work in the fall with a little less time, and will allow me to teach violin/viola lessons in the fall as well. During this time I was also teaching music theory at Raspberry Ridge, the camp that I wax eloquently about every year.

This being the case, as soon as we finished school on the 12th, Michael and I crashed for a couple of days, enjoyed the luxury of sleeping in past 5:30am, and then threw ourselves into packing up all our worldly belongings.

Before we started packing things, I struggled with the change that summer was inevitably bringing to my life. Before my miscarriage, I had looked forward to finishing work so I could stay home this fall, have a baby, and then possibly teach violin at least part time. I had looked forward to slowly growing larger, to decorating the second bedroom that we moved to have, to enjoying baby showers, and generally anticipating the addition of a small little life that would consume all my time for at least a little bit.

With the sudden cessation of all business and school, I was suddenly faced with all the "could-have-beens" and, honestly, it took my breath away. Michael had to deal with many stormy tears.

However, Raspberry Ridge, as it has been many times in the past, was balm to my soul. The theme was on prayer, and while I taught music theory to all the campers, and then led a Bible Study, I was reminded about prayer. Also, every year I am at Raspberry Ridge, I have at least one good, refreshing conversation with someone. This year, I had a conversation with a good friend who should be moving into town in the next year or earlier. I also had a conversation with a (16-year-old?) girl who just found out that her mother's breast cancer had come back, metastasized, and they might have 3 years with her.

Seeing her grief about this brought back my own about losing Alexandra, but God allowed me to speak grace, God's goodness, and His love to her, as well as pray for her and hold her as we both cried. That is one good thing that has come from this miscarriage. I am able to know the pain that grief can bring, and because of that, I have the (new) ability to comfort someone in their grief and remind them that God is in it all.

(Another good thing about the miscarriage is Michael. He has been so patient and loving to me in dealing with my grief, which one day seems far away, and the next is so close it hurts all over. I honestly think that if this hadn't happened, I would love him less.)

As it is, while I was at camp, Michael and two friends moved all our stuff across town. After RR ended, I unpacked, and cleaned, and unpacked some more, until I was almost overwhelmed. Truth be told, I'm not done yet, but my mother and my sisters came over yesterday and moved boxes upstairs, and unpacked boxes, and helped me do the labor of several days in about 3 hours. It was wonderful. Now Michael and I can sit on the couch and watch World Cup games. Which is where I'm going right now.

Thank God for husbands, RR, refreshing conversations, and mothers and sisters.
~H