Saturday, December 10, 2011

Questions and Doubts

I have been meaning to come back to the series of posts from a couple of weeks ago, but life has interfered the last couple of weeks and given the nature of the subject, it's hard to just sit down and bust out a quick post in a rare extra spare hour.


Just to clarify, it's all been very good and wonderful things that have taken up my time. I've loved every busy minute of the last couple of weeks, and will cherish every rushed second of the coming weeks because when the craziness of the Christmas season comes to an end and life returns to a semi-normal state, I will be left with so many beautiful memories to carry with me into the new year and the stress of it all will be nothing more than a forgotten thing of the past.  


That means though that blogging will, more than likely, fall by the wayside from time to time. It just takes me too dang long sometimes to compile pictures and thoughts and turn them back out into something meaningful for you to enjoy and not feel like you just wasted 5 minutes of your day. :)  


It's often difficult for me to communicate what's on my heart. Verbally, on the spot, it's nearly impossible for me. I always think of the best things to say after the fact! 


But that's why I love writing so much. It gives me time to reflect, to process, to search deep within and find just the right words I am looking for to express what I feel.


And while I eventually come to a place where I can confidently hit "publish" and go on with my day, it takes me for-e-ver to get there. I can't even begin to tell you how much I write, delete, write, delete, write...well, you get the idea.


Okay, I don't do that quite so much in pieces such as "Last Week's not so Desperate Moments", but when dealing with topics that actually carry real meaning and value, as the miscarriage does, there's a lot of rewriting, rereading, deleting and rewriting that takes place. 

Regardless though, I do need to apologize for starting this intense sharing about our experience of losing the baby and then just sort of leaving you hanging without wrapping it up with any sort of conclusion or pretty bow tied at the end. 


But, to be completely honest, as I continue to peel back layer after layer of emotions buried deep within my heart, I'm not sure if this experience can ever be wrapped up in pretty paper and tied off with a ribbon. 


It's too messy. Too complicated. Whenever I think I have one part of it packaged up, tape comes off on the other side and I am left with an unfinished gift. 


Yes, I intentionally meant to say gift because that is how I see this whole experience. I don't mean the miscarriage was a gift, I mean the life of our child, however short it was, was a gift. 


The miscarriage is something that has been entrusted to me, something that through healing, can be used for good, to grow me, strengthen me, bring hope and encouragement to others who experience similar situations. 


It was a very difficult experience that has, and continues to define a part of who I am. With it though, comes the freedom to choose exactly how I will let it define me. 


Early on, I was faced with the choice of whether I would allow this situation to define me as a woman plagued by guilt or a woman who takes every thought captive and surrenders them to the Lord. 



There were days where I was overwhelmed with "should have, would have, could haves." Did I do too much? Carry too much? Push it too hard? Did I not rest enough?


Did it happen that one time when I ran to catch the tram? Or the time I got too excited at Luis' game?   

There were times when people added to my guilt with comments like "Do you think it was because you were running? Maybe you shouldn't have been running." Maybe this, maybe that.  Do you think you should have done this? Shouldn't have done that?

Word of advice: never, never, NEVER tell a woman who has lost a baby your opinion on why it could have happened. Especially if it has to do with something she did/was doing.

I had to choose whether I was going to listen to the lies that told me "It's your fault that you lost the baby" and carry the burden of guilt with me the rest of my life, or whether I was going to listen to the voice of truth that knows I followed everything the doctor said and had absolutely no control over the outcome of the pregnancy.

I've had to choose whether I was going to continue to allow myself to be burdened by the unknowns--How big would I have been? What would our baby have looked like? Would we have had a boy or a girl? What would we be doing right now had our child been given to us?--or whether I was going to make peace with the fact that so many of my questions will forever go unanswered.


At the moment I am wrestling with whether I am allowing this experience to define me as a woman driven by fear or empowered by faith.


I've battled days where I start to worry if something is wrong with my body. Will I lose more babies? Will I even be able to have children?

I fear what it will be like to be pregnant again. Will I be excited like I was when we saw those two lines for the first time back in February? Or will I be guarded, protecting myself from having to experience the immense pain all over again? 

Will I hold my breath for the first 3 months every time I go to the bathroom, haunted by the day so vividly etched in my mind, afraid of what I might find? 

Will I immediately embrace a new baby the second time it happens? There was such innocence with the first pregnancy. Everything was new and exciting, and while there was always an underlying fear of losing the baby, there was an even greater naiveté that it wouldn't happen to me. 

If I were to get pregnant again, I wonder how long it will take me to stop focusing on the harsh realities of pregnancy and remember what a truly amazing miracle it is. 

These are the questions that run through my mind on a regular basis. And they are all questions that I am learning to surrender on a daily basis; to put them in the hands of the Lord and say "God, you know my desire for children. You know the fears I have. The hurts I've felt. I trust you with whatever you allow--blessing or trials--in our lives."

I know that I will continue to battle some of these things for the rest of my life--its human nature to be fearful of the unknown, to guard ourselves against potential pain--but just like the quote I saw on Pinterest (totally addicting site by the way!) the other day, I hold fast to my faith and pray that it will always be bigger than my fear.

2 comments:

Dad said... Best Blogger Tips

Thank you Cara for sharing your thoughts/feelings! I love you!

H. Gillham said... Best Blogger Tips

Hugs.

The emotional rawness of what you experienced was palpable ...

it's a hard thing to get through, but I am glad you have your faith -- it's enough. Trust.

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