Sunday, April 28, 2019

THE WEEKLY: april 22nd - april 28th





  S N A P S H O T S  

-  my love
-  avengerssssss
-  morning light
-  peace


   M O M E N T S  +  H A P P E N I N G S   

i took monday off work because i needed one more day to recover. i mostly spent the day watching NCIS, but it was much needed. i went back to work on tuesday, and it was hard, but i did it.

we have been spending the majority of our evenings outside. jackson runs around + we sit on the swing. it's delightful.

on friday, we went to the lake to see jared's parents. jackson was not interested in fishing, but he liked throwing rocks.

we watched the new avengers movie, and all i have to say is OH, MYLANTA.



   L E S S O N S  +  R E A L I Z A T I O N S   

-  i realized that some of the anger i had at God was actually disappointment. my due date would have been my grandma gracie's birthday. there was this wonderful story that led up to this pregnancy, and i just thought it would be this big redemption story that i could share as a testimony. and then it wasn't. and i was so disappointed.

-  internet friends are so wonderful.

-  it's okay to grieve. and it's also okay to do the things i love (blogging, reading, etc) while grieving.

-  "He is before all things, and in Him all things hold together." [colossians 1:17]




He is where the joy is.




it has been a week since we lost out third baby via miscarriage.

i was mentally/physically/spiritually at one of the lowest points of my life. i shut everyone out except jared + my mom. people told me they were praying for me, and i secretly wanted to tell them that it didn't matter. the grief i felt was so heavy. i didn't want to leave the house ever again.

but i did. i went back to work on tuesday. i had a lot of anxiety about it, but i did okay. a co-worker fumbled through a "sorry for your loss" and finally stopped and said, "i don't honestly know what to say." neither do i, really. throughout this entire loss, (all three really, but the most recent even more so) the most comforting words are ones that don't try to explain it away. no compartmentalizing or giving a quippy answer like "there is a reason for everything" or some christianize statement to gloss over the pain.

on friday, we went to the lake for a few hours to see jared's parents + introduce jackson to fishing. (spoiler alert: he was only interested in throwing rocks into the water.) on the drive out there, we talked about my day, and jared commented on how i seemed a little more like myself. i agreed. in the first few days after our loss, i was so despondent that i wondered if i would ever move on from the immense grief + pain that seemed to infect every cell of my body.

while i haven't "moved on" - i have made an effort to still live my life. this looks like treating myself to sheet masks from target, reading my bible, going outside to soak in the sun, listening to t-swift's song too many times, and putting my phone down to soak in the little bits of beauty around me.

so many people have reached out, and i am overwhelmingly grateful. to those who have lifted me up to the feet of Jesus, thank you. He is where the joy is, even in the pain + grief.

Tuesday, April 23, 2019

poster child.




i never wanted to be the poster child for miscarriage, but here i am.

last thursday, i went in for an ultrasound. i was 10 weeks pregnant. a few days before, i just knew something had happened. the nausea + exhaustion were basically gone overnight. as the ultrasound tech started, my fears were confirmed. she did the measurements, and then mumbled something i can't remember. i kinda wanted to punch her in the face and tell her i wasn't an idiot. i knew there was no heartbeat. five minutes later, a PA came in to deliver the news. i cut her off as she started. "i already know." she apologized and asked if it was my first. i shook my head and whispered, "my third."

i shared about my first miscarriage last summer. i was 9 weeks along. i never publicly shared about the second one - five days into 2019, i miscarried at 5 weeks. it was hard, but i felt so much comfort from the Lord. i think there was a part of me that didn't believe it would happen again. like i had met my quota or something.

and yet- here i am again. my third miscarriage in nine months.

this time, i feel numb. the Lord feels distant, mostly of my own doing. i screamed at Him in my car on thursday morning, and i haven't said much to Him since. i tried praying this morning, but an hour later, the grief and questions took over again. between the distance and my anger, i wonder if He is even there. how could a God who is Love give me three dead babies? where is the love in that?

i haven't really left the house much the last several days. i don't need sad eyes looking my way. i don't need people asking me how i am. i don't need speculations or opinions on what i should do next or what so-and-so did. i don't need comfort or hugs or good vibes. there was a very low point where i didn't want any prayers, which means i desperately need them. i haven't turned my back on God, and i haven't forgotten all He has done for me. i'm just so numb. angry. broken.

miscarriage makes people uncomfortable. no one knows what to say and rightly so. the absolute best thing that a few people have told me is this: there are no words that i can say to make this better. the fact that they didn't try to explain it away or sugarcoat it with quippy phrases gave me the tiniest bit of solace.

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this may be the rawest thing i've ever written in my eight years of blogging. i didn't edit anything. i thought maybe writing it out would be therapeutic in some way. i never actually intended to share this with the world, but as i searched the internet for other stories, i kept coming across info posts about miscarriage, but not actual stories from real women. i didn't need another article detailing the step-by-step process because- hello, i'm already living it. i just wanted to know that maybe someone out there felt the same emptiness that i did.

but in posting this for the world to read, my hope is that when another woman has just been given devastating news of a miscarriage, she will come across my words and know that she's not alone.

miscarriage is a lonely experience. unless you've actually experienced it, you will never truly know that painful emotional + physical toll it takes on a woman. no one wants to be a statistic. i will never understand why it happened on this side of heaven. but i'm trying to take it day by day, moment by moment.