A little drawing, some flowers and a story of life and death

September 25, 2013 § Leave a comment

I go through phases of wanting to blog. I gave up on this blog mainly because it had no real focus. I’m only coming back to it today, over a year after my last post, because I think it’s a better space than a facebook status to write a somewhat long post about whats been going on recently.

I honestly didn’t think I’d post about this. Steve and I have experienced pain and loss on a very personal level and sharing that publicly feels awkward. I don’t write to seek attention or pity. I write this because within some very hard moments I’ve experienced, there has also been beauty.

Tonight I spent time with my husband (which is rare these days) and with some close friends of ours who’ve been living in Egypt. We shared a recap of the recent hard days with them and after revisiting what happened after a few weeks now, I realized I was seeing those days with a little more clarity than when I was experiencing them. I wanted to write my thoughts out, so here I go, typing to whoever wants to listen, because I know I’m not alone and someone else might get some clarity from them as well.

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On Sunday morning, July 28, Steve and I found out we were pregnant. There is so much I could write here. We were so excited about this gift of life. But at 9 weeks, things didn’t seem right. I called my doctor and she got me in that day for an ultrasound. What she found was that our little tiny gift had stopped developing at 5 weeks. It was painful to hear that our baby that we’d been imagining as the size of a raspberry had actually never developed beyond the size of a sesame seed. There are miscarriages that would be harder to experience than what I did. And I’m as thankful as I can be that it was as early on as it was. But we not only felt the loss of this tiny life, but the loss of expectations and excitement for our growing family. That tiny life was here, if only for a brief moment, and I will never forget.

The next morning, I woke up and went to Starbucks. Starbucks is a great place to get some comfort in a cup. Especially when you haven’t caffeine in 2 and a half months. But it was Saturday morning in Clintonville, which in the summer means that there are lots of people out because of the Farmer’s Market. And that means there were bustling pregnant women and baby strollers everywhere. I’ve realized pregnant women and new moms are probably the healthiest people out there and that day, I confess, I hated every one of them. There were so many, I couldn’t have counted. At the time, it just felt so unfair. But tonight we drove through that same strip in Clintonville and I shared that horrible hatred I had to Steve and realized that I haven’t felt that way toward any new moms or moms-to-be in a couple weeks. In fact, I am even happier for them now than I remember being before all of this.

The photo above is from Church last weekend. After the sermon, we had to get into groups of 2 or 3 and share a time in our life that was related to the message. This story was new but it made sense to share it. After we each shared our stories, we had to draw someone else’s story. The picture above is what someone drew for mine. I hadn’t said anything about Jesus or whether or not I think our baby is a soul in heaven now. Maybe. That would be amazing. But seeing this picture gave me comfort. The experience of losing the pregnancy had brought me to a place where I felt I needed God, more than I had in a long time.

Soon after I had that terrible ultrasound, I received flowers from dear family members and my sweet husband. One of the bouquets lasted longer than the others and tonight when we got home I noticed that all the flowers in it had finally died. I looked at them for a while and thought about how these flowers were blooming bright and smelling strong when I needed them. Now, I had forgotten to look at them to find a glimpse of beauty in this life because it has become a bit easier to see it around me again. There they were with lifeless petals falling to the ground and me, thankful that they were here when they were alive.

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