If you know me personally, you know that I can always find something to say. About anything. Give me a topic, I will orally expound for the length of time you have to listen. So you can imagine my own shock when something happens that for all intents and purposes, renders me mute.
I've debated and debated sharing this here, but since this blog serves as my journal, I thought, either mention it here or there will always be a weird, inexplicable gap. And the truth is, I find such comfort in talking things out and since I've been so incapable of actual speech on this, I'm going to force myself to "say" it here. I had a miscarriage. There, I typed it. Not that it makes the reality of it any more real. Hardly. I've had the most difficult time embracing this as fact. I even tried to talk my OB/GYN out of that diagnosis...he kept furrowing his eyebrows as I tried to argue with what he was saying. But ultrasounds don't lie, nor does actual physical evidence. Isn't denial one of the stages of grief? Well, I've been firmly rooted in denial...and the thing is, I know why. I want to deny because if I accept, I accept all the spiritual implications of the experience. And where my spiritual state is concerned, this is the place where the rubber meets the road. This is the "battleground" (for lack of a better word) where I have met the Lord time and time again. You know the story about Jacob wrestling the Angel of the Lord? Yeah, I identify with that...I feel I've emotionally wrestled with God on this topic for half of my adult life!
For the past 6 years Adam and I have not prevented conception. I phrase it that way because we weren't "trying" per se for all those months, but definitely not preventing. Long story short: we tried, we failed, we gave up. After months and months of true emotional agony, I finally accepted what I felt the Lord was telling me: "not now, possibly never." Okay then. Well, then last August happened. I went to my OB/GYN for a check-up and shared some things with him which prompted him to do a quick ultrasound. What we found shocked both of us (my doctor has performed surgery on me and has literally held my hand through some truly heinous and scary reproductive problems). The ultrasound showed...perfectly normal girl functions! Dr. Ensley said, have at it kiddo, it looks like things are working. What followed from there was a see-saw, back-and-forth pondering, do I even want to try? Can I handle disappointment? We decided to just see what happened and hope for the best. And that's been the going mantra in my marriage where babies are concerned...until now.
You see, I think I had it in my head that God would either give a resounding "Yes!" with a healthy pregnancy, or a firm but loving "No" with simply no success. I had absolutely no preparation in my spirit for "Maybe." And that's exactly where I find myself. To me, that's what miscarriage is: a "maybe." A completed conception but not a completed pregnancy. Not a failed attempt, but a failed success. If that makes sense. And if I could summarize the nature of a miscarriage, it is exactly that:
it doesn't make sense to me. Why start something that won't be finished? Why give hope and happiness only to snatch it away? You see what I mean about wanting to avoid the spiritual implications of what happened? These are not questions that are easy to ask, let alone be vulnerable and honest enough to accept the answers when they come.
And the answers have been coming. From surprising sources. Not only answers, but comfort in astonishing forms. I have found that the Lord is truly nigh to those of a broken heart. He doesn't allow something to happen and then leave you hanging off a cliff's edge, desperately grappling for an anchor, a foothold. He allows difficult and harsh things to happen but boy does He ever let you land on a feather pillow the size of Texas. At least, that has been my experience with this. I have found it so difficult to pray, and the extent of my prayers has been, Lord Jesus, I don't get it.
I don't get it! But I know that the Holy Spirit hears the groanings of our spirit...it's like a heart language that only God can hear and understand, and I know God has been listening. I've had love and friendship manifested to me in truly remarkable ways. My husband has been amazing to me...and the greatest gift to come of all this has been a newfound spirit of unity and precious affection between us. How grateful I am for that! A couple of friends have given me such insightful, wise words that I now carry with me and repeat to myself in darker moments...again, what a gift! I think the sweetest outpouring of God's comfort came in the form of my 2-year-old niece Abigail. On the very day this happened, I went to my parents' house (I have a homing beacon that sounds shrilly in my head when bad things happen and it only goes quiet when in the presence of my mom and dad) and they had been babysitting Abby and well, in all truth, she couldn't get enough of her Aunt B that morning. She put her arms around my neck and gave me squeezes and refused to leave my lap. And her Aunt B didn't mind at all. You'd almost think it would make things worse to be around a little child, but that's the mystery of God...He knows what will comfort and that's what He provides. I don't think Abby will ever know how much her baby kisses blessed me that day.
As for answers...truth is being slowly revealed to me. I should say, I am slowly receiving the truth that is being shown to me. The Lord knows I have my defenses up but He is weaving this comfort and this truth around those defenses and pouring out His love in spite of my anger and hurt and fear. He is using this "battleground" to once again teach me of His ways.
All this to say, I don't have these answers yet, but I know I will be eager to share them when they come. The Lord will give me the words and my frozen tongue will melt! Until then, it is my greatest comfort of all to know that the Lord is nigh, and that He is working.
I may be silent, but God is not. He is speaking, and I am listening.
