This morning I found myself stupidly staring at Facebook. I was on Drew's profile, just purposelessly looking. Even though he passed away a few months ago, Facebook still declared to the world today that it's his birthday. I've wished him happy birthday every year for the last 14 years, actually in person before Facebook, imagine that. So naturally I thought I'd just write a typical "happy birthday drewy poo" on his wall anyway. Then I thought, as much as this might make me feel better right now, birthdays probably aren't relevant where he is. So instead I sat there just thinking about how he surrendered himself to God before he died, and how awesome that is. And I tried to think from an eternal perspective instead of an earthly one filled with Facebook and birthdays and tears. When I finally snapped out of it and stopped staring at my laptop, I thought of this story from the Bible.
Days after Jesus had died, Matthew 28 tells us Jesus' dear friends "Mary Magdalene and the other Mary went to look at the tomb". Both Marys loved him and watched him suffer and die, they were there when he was buried, but now they are going back to look, not at a person, just a tomb. I could imagine them not knowing what to do, they were thinking about him constantly and wanted to feel close to him, so the best idea they could come up with was to just go and look. At first they were staring at a sealed tomb, but then "an angel of the Lord came down from Heaven" and said, "“Do not be afraid, for I know that you are looking for Jesus, who was crucified.He is not here; he has risen, just as he said." Drew's not here. And as much silly comfort as it gives me (and maybe you) to stare at his Facebook, just like Jesus' friends stared at His tomb, he isn't there. He isn't on this Earth, he isn't on Facebook. He is remembered in our hearts, but he has risen, just as God said. He is not here; he's with God, and that's an awesome birthday. Miss you friend.
"I prayed to the Lord, and He answered me. He freed me from all my fears. Those who look to Him for help will be radiant with joy; no shadow of shame will darken their faces. In my desperation I prayed, and the Lord listened; He saved me from all my troubles. For the angel of the Lord is a guard; He surrounds and defends all who fear him." ~Psalm 34:4-7
It's been a month now since Doug and I lost our little one. I'd be well into my second-trimester by now. Probably with a name picked out already, and maternity jeans starting to reappear in my closet. I'd be sure to do my chest presses and crunches on an incline and stay far away from my favorite peppermint mochas and sushi. But our date night last week ended at our favorite sushi spot and I got my first Starbucks of the season this weekend - bittersweet. I haven't had it in me yet to put away the pre-natal vitamins and my whole winter wardrobe still consists of beautifully bulky, high-waisted sweaters that I treated myself to when we found out we were expecting. The little things. Things I wouldn't have given any thought to before all this, set off the aches and involuntary tears.
When I went to the OB/GYN for my follow-up check a few days ago, I looked around in the waiting room and found myself surrounded by pregnant women and their anxious husbands. I even had to let one woman go before me in line because she was clearly overdue and obviously uncomfortable. I felt my face starting to burn up, heated with the overwhelming desire to feel the awkward agony that this 40-week pregnant mother was feeling. Oh what I would do to have that beautiful distress. My eyes welled up, but I managed to hold them back. Then the nurses smiled and welcomed me until they read my file, and then things quickly turned solemn with a lot of "I'm sorry for your loss" type things. As it's standard to do, I had to pee in a cup for a pregnancy test. "Think of it just for laughs," the doctor said. But I wasn't laughing. At the end of it all, the doctor told me everything was perfectly healed and my body seemed "ready again." "You can start trying whenever you want now," she said. Surprisingly, I didn't feel happy about that at all. I was glad she deemed me "normal", but I was prepared to wait months like the hospital had told me. But now we're actually talking about another baby? What about this baby? The one I just lost. The one I'm mourning over still...that's what I want to talk about. I felt like an insane person about to cry over seemingly good news - emotions ricocheting and even contradicting each other, like only a woman's mind can do.
Before the miscarriage, I asked God to guard, surround, and defend my little baby. But like the Psalm above said, I also asked Him to free me from my fears. And when my fear came to pass, in my desperation, I prayed His Word through tears, "Hear me God and be merciful to me; Oh Lord BE MY HELP. Turn my wailing into dancing, remove my sackcloth and clothe me with joy, so my heart can sing to you and not be silent, giving thanks to you forever." (from Psalm 30:10-12)
Even though my hot tears fell again late last night at the realization that a month has passed and I still miss and ache for this baby immensely, but with God as my help, there has been much joy. Over and over, God has reminded me that through Him, I will meet this baby and my family will all be reunited in completeness and perfection one day. He has placed people and their shared experiences before me that have comforted and amazed me. And I have a new appreciation for my husband who not only took care of every physical need around me, but also tended to my heart like it was his full-time job. Such joy. And through all this, Doug's been creating a beautifully carved wooden frame for weeks now to showcase our baby's ultrasound and heartbeat image; it's nearly finished. Not to mention, we finally have found a home. We've been given the opportunity to rent an old farmhouse complete with horses for neighbors, a wrap-around porch, and plenty of room for our kids to play and grow. Amazingly, we should be moved in by next week! I am so looking forward to hanging our memorial frame in the playroom, alongside of pictures of Baileigh and Dougie. Turning my wailing into dancing, removing my tattered sackcloth and dressing me in joy. My heart will not be silent. I will sing - forever.
I am writing right now alone in my bed, with no kids running around or even a hungry husband asking me every 2 hours what we have to eat. It's nice and quiet, I have some time to be with my thoughts and with the Lord, but it's not the typical kind of "mommy time" I desire.
Late Thursday night, Doug and I headed over to the Emergency Room; everything is "fine" now, but I have to take it easy and recover with some good old-fashioned rest. Thankfully my husband took over all of my daily duties for now and seems to be holding up alright, but I'm up here alone in bed, grateful for the break, but almost wishing I had some things to busy me right now...
Just a few weeks ago, Doug came home from work and I told him there was something on my stomach I really wanted him to take a look at. He nervously lifted my shirt and saw written across belly in eyeliner "Baby #3" with hearts all around. He was so excited, we were overjoyed. The next week I had an ultrasound and was able to see our beautiful baby's heartbeat - but the doctor was confused because they saw other stuff in there along with the baby. Tumors, masses, polyps, bleeding? They weren't sure what to call it. So the doctor just said keep coming in every 2 weeks and we'll keep an eye on the baby's heartbeat and just make sure everything is OK. We were a little scared, but my husband was sharing scriptures with me like "Wait for the Lord, be strong and take heart and wait for the Lord." (Psalm 27:14) and "Be still in the presence of the Lord, and wait patiently for him to act." (Psalm 37:7) So that's all that we could do...wait. And our kind of waiting is hopeful, prayerful, confident. Worry creeps in, sure, but we have such a Hope.
So we waited and prayed and thanked God for this life that was inside me. "Right now, we have a baby," we said. "This moment, we have 3 kids and we can be glad for that!" We knew this baby already had a unique genetic blueprint, DNA present for several weeks now that would determine every characteristic this child would have all the way into adulthood, not to mention a strong, beating heart apart from mine that I got to see with my own eyes! It was amazing because it was life, and life is something to be celebrated. So we did, but I asked Doug to please keep it quiet until the next ultrasound, for my own piece of mind. So as difficult as it was, we didn't tell our observant 4-year-old or most family and friends, but still, we were so happy and so in love already.
This Thursday, though, less than a week before my next follow-up ultrasound, I started bleeding. It started out so slight, but when I went to bed that night, it had turned intense, even accompanied by the familiar feeling of early labor contractions. "I think we need to go to the hospital," I said to my husband around 11 pm. We made arrangements for the kids and quickly left, we prayed together in the parking lot, and headed in. After settling in at the ER, I felt the known feeling of downward pressure followed by a natural push. I wasn't sure of it when it was happening, but soon found I had delivered my baby completely on my own - just way earlier than I had ever wanted to. I cried and cried as I watched the nurses put my helpless tiny baby in what looked like a plastic take-out container to be sent out to a lab somewhere. After spending the entire night in the hospital with tests and ultrasounds, it was finally confirmed that I had a spontaneous, complete miscarriage. We were sent home, babyless, around 6 a.m.
So that brings me back to right now, alone in bed, just writing, trying to get my own head around it all and trying to hear God's Word in it all...that's just how I do things. I was randomly e-mailed this Bible verse this morning, "The Lord will
work out his plans for my life-
for your faithful love, O Lord, endures forever.
Don’t abandon me, for you made me." ~Psalm 138:8
People have tried to
encourage me by saying similar things, like everything happens for a reason or
it was meant to be, and while essentially I believe this (see Romans 8:28), my eye was
caught on the last part, not thinking of myself, but of my baby "Don't abandon me,
for you made me." We have that promise that our God, our Maker,
won't abandon us. I believe that for my baby too and I imagine that being the
prayer of her heart, "Dear God, don't leave me, You made me." And I
imagine God comforting her and holding her and assuring her that she will see
her earthly mommy and daddy one day soon.
..............
Doug and I are hurting
right now, but we know so many other people have experienced this same kind of
hurt, and while I wasn't sure if I was going to share any of this at all, if I
could just encourage one person today who has quietly been hurting or
struggling with losing a child this way, then this moment
of vulnerability is completely worth it. And in the midst of this seemingly never-ending storm of a season for me, I know that God is still
there and this is what I want to remember above everything else:
The one thing I ask of the Lord— the
thing I seek most— is to live in the house of the Lord all the
days of my life, delighting
in the Lord’s perfections and
meditating in his Temple. For he will conceal me
there when troubles come; he
will hide me in his sanctuary. He
will place me out of reach on a high rock. Then I will hold my
head high above
my enemies who surround me. At his sanctuary I will offer sacrifices with shouts of joy, singing
and praising the Lord with music.
Drew's not here. And as much silly comfort as it gives me (and maybe you) to stare at his Facebook, just like Jesus' friends stared at His tomb, he isn't there. He isn't on this Earth, he isn't on Facebook. He is remembered in our hearts, but he has risen, just as God said. He is not here; he's with God, and that's an awesome birthday. Miss you friend. 
