Click here to read Part 1, "The Hope".
Seven years ago, I shared the experience of losing April in my post here, but the story didn't end there. My words may have ended very uplifting and full of faith that day, but my spirit definitely faltered. For the next several months after the miscarriage, I became obsessed with getting pregnant again. I'd like to believe that I wasn't trying to replace the baby we'd lost, but to be honest, I do think I was trying to replace something. I was trying to replace that piece of me that had been ripped away so abruptly.
I'll never forget the dream I had while under anesthesia for the D&C (the procedure to remove the baby). I could feel the suctioning, and in my dream it very literally translated to having my baby pulled from my arms. I tried holding on with all my strength, but she was sucked away by a force that was beyond me. I then held on to Danny, but he too started to be pulled away from me by the same force. I clung with all my might until we were just grasping at fingertips. I woke up from the anesthesia at that point, sobbing my heart out.
I'm going to be very transparent and vulnerable with you now. From the moment Danny and I became serious, and as we realized that we had something long lasting, I had a fear. Like a pot of water set to boil, it started fizzing almost unnoticeable, and then quickly began bubbling over time. To understand my fear, you kind of have to know some of my history.
Just seven months before Danny and I started talking, I had returned from my trip to China. I was on the biggest spiritual high I've ever experienced to this day - my "mountaintop experience". I was convinced I had a great future in missions, even having a teammate tell me that I was perfect for work in Asia. I didn't see how having a family would fit in with this plan, and so I prepared my heart to sacrifice those desires in order to serve God abroad. My heart was in China. I even wrote a song about it, saying "Mei Guo, (America), if I come home, what do you have for my heart? I found a true love in Zhong Guo (China)".
Two months later, suffering from extreme depression, I dropped out of school. Five months after returning home, I received the first message from my future husband. After seven months of failure, it seemed unlikely that I would suddenly find love, but I enjoyed talking to him and he made me laugh. It was refreshing to talk with someone who hadn't witnessed my failures, and when we spoke I even forgot about them altogether.
As we grew closer, and more serious, that fear started bubbling. It was a fear that I had somehow cheated God's plans. I had failed, and was supposed to be in a season of punishment, right? Yet somehow, I was sitting in the boat with my net in the water, and somehow I had caught a blessing. Surely someone else's must've ended up in mine by mistake. I started looking around, waiting for someone to start yelling out "hey!! That's not yours! You have to throw it back!" I almost did, too.
In August, while in Florida, we visited Danny's church one Saturday afternoon. I met his pastor, and the youth pastor, both whom he was very close to. I also met a very sweet girl, not much younger than we were. I walked around the church grounds while he talked with them, all the while feeling guilty. I sat down on a bench and my mind raced as I prayed. Was I stealing Danny from this awesome church home, a source of spiritual support that he needed as a man? That girl seemed to really like Danny, was I stealing her future husband? On our way back to his cousin's house, Danny was talking and laughing excitedly while I was quiet.
"I think you should stay here," I blurted out. Danny laughed. "I'm serious," I continued, and tried to explain my reasoning which, frankly, I didn't even understand. I was still talking when we pulled into the drive, trying to verbally work out my concerns. Danny would have none of it, however, and told me that he absolutely refused to stay. He had found me, and wasn't letting go. All at once, I breathed a sigh of relief while simultaneously feeling like I had ducked God's plans again. Little did I know but when I had been sitting on that bench, wondering if I should throw Danny back, he was speaking with his pastor about proposing to me the next morning.
After the miscarriage, I began to fear that my "cheating" had caught up to me and God was beginning to remove these blessings that weren't really meant for me. Like my dream during the procedure, I feared that the next to go would be Danny.
I began to doubt God. I didn't trust that God wanted something good for me. He had taken away my baby, right? If He wanted good for me, why would He do that? Obviously, the plans I had and the dreams I had were better than God's plan. My plans didn't include pain. They didn't include loss.
I don't think this experience is unique to me. Every loss that we experience is a reminder of how completely powerless we are. Whether it be loss of a child or a loved one, loss of a job, loss of a promotion promised us, loss of a dream that you had invested so much time into, it reminds us that ultimately we are not in control.
Click here to read the conclusion of Waiting for April.
Seven years ago, I shared the experience of losing April in my post here, but the story didn't end there. My words may have ended very uplifting and full of faith that day, but my spirit definitely faltered. For the next several months after the miscarriage, I became obsessed with getting pregnant again. I'd like to believe that I wasn't trying to replace the baby we'd lost, but to be honest, I do think I was trying to replace something. I was trying to replace that piece of me that had been ripped away so abruptly.
I'll never forget the dream I had while under anesthesia for the D&C (the procedure to remove the baby). I could feel the suctioning, and in my dream it very literally translated to having my baby pulled from my arms. I tried holding on with all my strength, but she was sucked away by a force that was beyond me. I then held on to Danny, but he too started to be pulled away from me by the same force. I clung with all my might until we were just grasping at fingertips. I woke up from the anesthesia at that point, sobbing my heart out.
I'm going to be very transparent and vulnerable with you now. From the moment Danny and I became serious, and as we realized that we had something long lasting, I had a fear. Like a pot of water set to boil, it started fizzing almost unnoticeable, and then quickly began bubbling over time. To understand my fear, you kind of have to know some of my history.
Just seven months before Danny and I started talking, I had returned from my trip to China. I was on the biggest spiritual high I've ever experienced to this day - my "mountaintop experience". I was convinced I had a great future in missions, even having a teammate tell me that I was perfect for work in Asia. I didn't see how having a family would fit in with this plan, and so I prepared my heart to sacrifice those desires in order to serve God abroad. My heart was in China. I even wrote a song about it, saying "Mei Guo, (America), if I come home, what do you have for my heart? I found a true love in Zhong Guo (China)".
Two months later, suffering from extreme depression, I dropped out of school. Five months after returning home, I received the first message from my future husband. After seven months of failure, it seemed unlikely that I would suddenly find love, but I enjoyed talking to him and he made me laugh. It was refreshing to talk with someone who hadn't witnessed my failures, and when we spoke I even forgot about them altogether.
As we grew closer, and more serious, that fear started bubbling. It was a fear that I had somehow cheated God's plans. I had failed, and was supposed to be in a season of punishment, right? Yet somehow, I was sitting in the boat with my net in the water, and somehow I had caught a blessing. Surely someone else's must've ended up in mine by mistake. I started looking around, waiting for someone to start yelling out "hey!! That's not yours! You have to throw it back!" I almost did, too.
In August, while in Florida, we visited Danny's church one Saturday afternoon. I met his pastor, and the youth pastor, both whom he was very close to. I also met a very sweet girl, not much younger than we were. I walked around the church grounds while he talked with them, all the while feeling guilty. I sat down on a bench and my mind raced as I prayed. Was I stealing Danny from this awesome church home, a source of spiritual support that he needed as a man? That girl seemed to really like Danny, was I stealing her future husband? On our way back to his cousin's house, Danny was talking and laughing excitedly while I was quiet.
"I think you should stay here," I blurted out. Danny laughed. "I'm serious," I continued, and tried to explain my reasoning which, frankly, I didn't even understand. I was still talking when we pulled into the drive, trying to verbally work out my concerns. Danny would have none of it, however, and told me that he absolutely refused to stay. He had found me, and wasn't letting go. All at once, I breathed a sigh of relief while simultaneously feeling like I had ducked God's plans again. Little did I know but when I had been sitting on that bench, wondering if I should throw Danny back, he was speaking with his pastor about proposing to me the next morning.
After the miscarriage, I began to fear that my "cheating" had caught up to me and God was beginning to remove these blessings that weren't really meant for me. Like my dream during the procedure, I feared that the next to go would be Danny.
I began to doubt God. I didn't trust that God wanted something good for me. He had taken away my baby, right? If He wanted good for me, why would He do that? Obviously, the plans I had and the dreams I had were better than God's plan. My plans didn't include pain. They didn't include loss.
I don't think this experience is unique to me. Every loss that we experience is a reminder of how completely powerless we are. Whether it be loss of a child or a loved one, loss of a job, loss of a promotion promised us, loss of a dream that you had invested so much time into, it reminds us that ultimately we are not in control.
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"Held"
by Natalie Grant
Two months is too little
they let him go, they had no sudden healing
To think that providence would take a child from his mother while she prays,
is appalling
Who told us we'd be rescued?
What has changed and why should we be saved from nightmares?
We're asking why this happens to us who have died to live, it's unfair
This is what it means to be held,
how it feels when the sacred is torn from your life
and you survive
This is what it means to be loved,
and to know that the promise was when everything fell
we'd be held.
This hand is bitterness,
we want to taste it, let the hatred numb our sorrows
The wise hand opens slowly to lilies of the valley and tomorrow
If hope is born of suffering,
if this is only the beginning,
can we not wait for one hour,
watching for our Savior?
This is what it means to be held,
how it feels when the sacred is torn from your life
and you survive
This is what it means to be loved,
and to know that the promise was when everything fell
we'd be held.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Click here to read the conclusion of Waiting for April.
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