I will never forget the exact moment when the process started. I was back-to-school shopping with my girls, looking for clothes for my up and coming kindergartner. In the midst of this milestone of an occasion, my heart started beating rapidly and I could no longer think straight. One quick trip to the bathroom and I was gripped with fear.
We finished shopping and made it out of the store in record timing. Once we were home I immediately locked myself in the bathroom and began to cry. That night was the worst. The cries turned into deep weeping and agonizing pain, as I begged and pleaded for an alternative explanation before the Lord. I knew that I had just experienced loss in January, but 5 years ago I had a similar scare and that child was heading to school in a matter of days.
The praise and worship music blasted in our bedroom and the tears continued to pour out of my eyes. I tried to allow my faith to be bigger than my fear. I was determined to walk by faith and not by sight even though it seemed an impossible task as the bleeding continued.
Over and over I said these words:
I declare that my baby is fine. I declare that my baby is fine. I declare that my baby is fine.
In Jesus’ Name.
I held onto hope as much as I possibly could. I wavered and crumbled and picked myself up time and time again. Those 5 days were the longest. Finally it stopped. I felt a sense of relief but it didn’t last. So what did this mean? I needed confirmation.
Two negative tests and an ultrasound later, I think I heard my heart actually breaking.
It happened again. I miscarried again. And I’m so angry about it.
I’m angry that if I were to choose to partake in a glass of wine at date night, it wouldn’t matter because my womb is empty once again.
I’m angry that instead of adding to our family, I’m adding to the devastating statistics.
I’m angry that this has happened again and I still can’t explain it. I can’t make earthly sense of it and I don’t have all the answers.
That makes me angry!
I’m angry because I want to place blame on someone or something and the easiest candidate is myself.
I’m angry because I suddenly feel old. I feel old and broken and incapable of doing what I could once do.
I’m angry at the timing. No time is a good time, but why now? Why days before the one year anniversary of my sister-in-love’s death, where emotions are already so high and the sting of grief is harsh and palpable?
I’m angry at those who say it’s God’s fault. I know He didn’t do this to me. I know that He is sovereign and that for whatever reason this is the path I am to walk. But He doesn’t set out to hurt His children and His heart is breaking too.
But I am angry that we live in such a fallen world with sickness, disease and sin and loss and heartache and despair.
I’m angry at those who are thinking I should stop being angry and be grateful for the beautiful family I have.
I’m angry because no one has actually said that to me, but it’s one of the many thoughts I tell myself to excuse away my pain.
I’m angry that so many women have walked this path and it STILL isn’t talked about enough.
I’m angry that in 8 months I’ve now lost 2 precious babies this year.
And while they are exactly where they need to be, where I’ll one day be, my selfish mama heart just wants them back.
I’m angry about a lot, but I know God CAN handle my anger. He will help me process through the truths and the lies and I WILL be ok.
If not today. If not tomorrow. If not for a long time to come…I WILL be ok. But today I am angry. Today I am hurting. Today I am in a fog, wishing it weren’t so.
Today I am angry, but I know that weeping may endure for a night, and I will continue to trust in our Almighty Father as I await my joy to come in the morning.
You have turned my mourning into joyful dancing. You have taken away my clothes of mourning and clothed me with joy, that I might sing praises to you and not be silent. O Lord my God, I will give you thanks forever!
Psalm 30:11-12 (NLT)