Empty

July 9th.

My 30th Birthday.

Entering a new Decade of Life.

Instead of celebrating life, I was mourning the baby inside me that wouldn't ever see a 30th birthday.

All I can say of our experience was that it was horrible. Our medical system is messed up for numerous reasons, but we have zero care when it comes to caring for people as just that - people.

We sat for over an hour waiting to be brought back. During that time I was thankful for the extra time with my baby, but anxious to just leave and be back home. When they finally brought us back, we were brought to a small room with cracks in the walls and where the staff had no idea what I was there for.

I had to explain over and over what was going on, 

why I was there, 

why I was crying.  

I kept having to hear 

"You're so young,

it's ok you can try again, 

you'll have another"

I had to hear my doctor say 'We will just get rid of this and move forward'
She knew she messed up in that, and I'm truly sorry this is a part of her job. I know removing life from someone is not a highlight to her job.

Yet I'm sitting there as a grieving mother being confronted again and again that my child's life wasn't important - that it wasn't 'actual' life to them anyways - that he/she can be replaced.

I know they were trying and weren't intending to do harm. Yet good intentions can still cause hurt.

The nurse came in to give me the anesthesia drugs, and she was the first person I felt comfortable with. She let me know she understood what I was going through - she had two miscarriages herself. She grieved with me. She didn't offer hope or words. She just said she understood.

I don't remember falling asleep, but I remember waking up about an hour later.

My hands went straight to my stomach and I kept saying,
"My baby. My baby. My baby."
while weeping in front of strangers.

I was still in a daze from the drugs but my mind and body was grieving the loss already.

We had to go straight to pick up Levi, and seeing his cheeky smile and face brought the first hint of a smile to my face.  It's like he knew something was up, as he wanted extra cuddles and to be held by mama.


The next day was spent keeping my brain as distracted as possible. Levi was at daycare and Mark was home with me doing some little projects.

I tried to schedule a follow up visit for a couple weeks with my doctor and was told she was booked through September. So again I cried at how we are so insensitive to the thought that I wouldn't want to explain and go over everything to another person.

The weekend was spent feeling empty inside. Literally. Every cramp and pain was and is a reminder that my baby is no longer with me. Mark made a comment about having to see me go through so much the past 18 months. I told him at least with Levi it had a purpose.

As of right now, this pain doesn't have a purpose. I know one day it will, but for now it doesn't.

I've been honest with Jesus during this time. I told him how angry and hurt I am - how he isn't a good father - he isn't faithful - he is cruel and heartless.

Yet I've also felt His presence closer than I have in a while.

I think of how He wept when Lazarus died. Even though He knew Lazarus was going to be raised, yet He still wept because He grieved with His friends and children.

Like I said in my first post, God isn't responsible for death - that's our fault in Sin and living in this world that groans for the time of redemption.

God weeps at death just like we do - even more so. I know He wept when my child stopped growing. I know He wept when I saw the ultrasound. I know He wept as I was in the hospital.

I know He still weeps as He sees me in these moments of grief and suffering.

This morning was my first day back at work and dropping Levi off.  I look up on the interstate and see a beautiful, bright, full rainbow.  As I keep driving, it turns into a double rainbow.

I sit there in the car listening to worship and seeing not just one, but two reminders of God's promise.

This journey towards healing is going to be a long one. I cry spontaneously. I still wake up in the middle of the night grabbing my stomach and crying out for my baby. I know hard days are to come. I know I will always have a hole in my heart. I know that I have a child in heaven long before they should have been.

Yet I feel the smallest sliver of hope - of peace - in the midst of this storm. I still don't want to talk to others about it yet, but I'll keep talking to Mark and Jesus.

I'm thankful to be a mama to two incredibly beautiful, loving, and kind babies.  I can't wait to be rejoined as a family when Jesus comes back to bring life and redemption to this World.

Sometimes I often wonder If You have let me down Why does it seem I walk alone Where trouble finds me out But sorrow as my company I fix my eyes on You Soon again I’ll praise Your name And feel my soul renewed