It’s been quite a while since I’ve written. After Silas died, I had so much I wanted to say. So much I wanted to tell about our boy. Yet, every time I sat down to write, the words just weren’t there. I decided I wouldn’t push it, and if the Lord wanted me to share more He would give me the desire.
Well, this week has held some events that brought me back here. At the first of September we were surprised to find out we were expecting. I’m pretty sure I felt about every emotion when I saw those two blue lines on the test. However, one quickly rose to the surface…. fear. The past 8 months have brought a lot of healing, but the wounds are still fresh and easily opened. The thought of being pregnant again terrified me. The thought of another loss terrified me even more. But deep down I wanted to believe that maybe this would be a gracious gift of healing to our family. I simply wanted to fast forward to the part where they hand me a healthy baby. We decided to keep quiet until we could have a test performed at our 12 week appointment. The test would tell us if there were any issues like the ones we faced with Silas.
Our 8 week appointment was incredibly hard. I wanted to be excited so badly, but my mind kept racing with all the “what ifs.” I saw the ultrasound machine and my heart sank. So many painful memories of starring helplessly at a screen with vague images of our little one and listening to reports about all the things that were going wrong. Thankfully, they were able to find a heartbeat quickly and for a brief moment my mind was relieved.
Pregnancy is a funny thing. It’s such a blessing, but such a tender, sacred place. A season that opens up a whole new world of worry and vulnerabilities as a mother. So many things that are simply out of our control. It’s beautiful….but not without pain. This time I guarded myself from thinking about the future. Yet, I found myself dreaming about who this person would be. A little girl? That would make her big sister so happy. Elizabeth has told me repeatedly we have WAY too many boys in the family. What personality would this little person encompass? What color hair? Who would they look like? Dreams of seeing one more face in our family pictures. Dreams of watching those first moments happen. Dreams of hanging another stocking on our fireplace. Dreams of holding a healthy baby in my arms.
It’s been a battle to resist the fear, yet with every passing day I’ve wanted to hope a little more that this time things would be different. Then this past Saturday I felt awful. And not in a good, normal pregnancy kind of way. I was very concerned that something was wrong. Thankfully we already had the appointment coming up so we did what we did so much of with Silas…. wait.
Monday morning came and we went to our appointment. My worst fear was confirmed when the doctor pulled up the image on the ultrasound machine. Where there should be a tiny flicker, there was none. The heartbeat was gone. I laid there. Numb. Helpless. Heartbroken. So similar to when Silas was born. There was absolutely nothing I could do. Another moment that reminded me how fragile this life can be. No guarantees. Nothing set in stone. Because I’m far enough along they scheduled a procedure for this Wednesday. To be honest, I hate this. I’m so disappointed. And, I’m terrified to go back to the hospital. But….. My reason for writing is two-fold. One, I want to leave a reminder to myself that even on the hardest days the Lord has been faithful. I remember with Silas I had made a mental list… “things I cannot do.” I can’t go to another appointment and face more bad news. I can’t face another day carrying a baby that will most likely die. I can’t handle a delivery with so many uncertainties... I can’t hand him over when it’s way too soon to say goodbye. I can’t walk out of this hospital with empty arms. I can’t deal with another day of sadness. I can’t… I can’t… I can’t…. Yet, God CAN. And He did. And He was there. And He WILL be here. Often a peace has come over me that I know is nothing of my own doing. As the Bible says, draw near to Him and He will draw near to us. Call to Him and He will answer you. Seek Him… and He will be found. And that friends, is something I cling to. He was the calm in that delivery room on January 9th. He will be with us tomorrow as we face another heartbreaking loss. He has been my comfort on days that seem quiet and uneventful…yet pain runs deep and unseen by others. But He sees. And He knows. And I believe He cares more than we can ever know. Secondly…. I have heard from so many since Silas died. Your stories. Stories of loss. Heartbreak. Infant death. Miscarriage. Divorce. Disappointment. Illness. Job loss. We all face brokenness in this world. I’m not here with all the answers. If anything, I probably have more questions than ever. But I feel I am (slowly) learning one thing. The Lord has this beautiful way of taking the broken and shaping it into something, dare I say…. good. I’m not naive enough to think that means a life free of pain. On the contrary, I more convinced that it’s the pain He allows to touch our lives that can provide an opportunity for us to know Him in a way that fulfills our deepest desires. Pain that enables us to understand His love more and experience the gifts He offers… Joy when we are surrounded by sadness. Peace when there should be none. Contentment when the things…. or people... we desire most are ripped away. This year has been full of challenges for us. And as I write this, there are tears. Partly because life can be so hard…but even more... because God is good. He is trustworthy, and He is pursing us. He longs for us and wants us to long for Him. This is an expert from a book that says it way better than I ever could…. ”She gave Him the kind of worship one can give only from a thin place--a place where the separation between this world and eternity seems to dissolve, a place where we believe and experience God’s love in a visceral way. My empty womb ushered me into that thin place, the place where I began to believe --not just say-- that God’s love is real. With every bleeding day, I was forced to reveal myself in pain, before His eyes. And that’s when I discovered how truly beautiful His eyes are. Only then could i pour myself out at His feet with unhinged, unembarrassed, extravagant devotion.” -Unseen by Sara Hagerty So I can say with a quiet and broken spirit…God is good. He is faithful. We would sure appreciate your prayers today and in the days to come. I’m thankful for those of you who have shared your stories with me. There is a strange comfort in knowing we are not alone in our suffering. So many of you have braved being real and shared the pain you have endured...and encouraged me to keep on going. I can't tell you what that has meant to me. 16 "Therefore we do not lose heart. Though outwardly we are wasting away, yet inwardly we are being renewed day by day. 17 For our light and momentary troubles are achieving for us an eternal glory that far outweighs them all. 18 So we fix our eyes not on what is seen, but on what is unseen, since what is seen is temporary, but what is unseen is eternal." 2 Corinthians 4:16-18 Longing for the unseen so very much. Especially two little faces that I am so incredibly anxious to see.
Sarah
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