The Lord says, "At that time young women will dance and be glad. Young men and old men will rejoice. I will turn their grief into gladness. I will give them comfort and joy in place of their sorrow. Jeremiah 31:13
Over 10 Years ago my husband and I were in the midst of loss. We wanted another baby, but every time we tried, our baby either died in the womb, or I miscarried. We went through this five times. This is my story.
We have five beautiful children. Four sons, and one daughter. My husband and I married at a very young age, and I had our first son two years after we were married. Two more sons followed in the next four years. My second pregnancy was chaotic and traumatic. Right from the get go I was having problems and as early as three months my body was contracting and bleeding. We went to our doctor, and a miscarriage was confirmed. It was devastating to me. But, as the weeks continued, I felt pregnant. My husband kept telling me that I acted pregnant (which was irritating) but I finally called the doctor and insisted on seeing them again. They only agreed because they wanted to calm my hormonal over-reaction to how my body was feeling. We went to the doctor, and by the end of that visit they were shaking their heads in disbelief. I was indeed, pregnant. It was determined that the baby lost, was a twin.
We raised three sons. When our youngest was 13, I wanted another child. We were blessed with another son. And, then I wanted just one more. We easily got pregnant, and I was very excited. But, then one night I had a dream that our baby was no longer alive in my womb. I was almost 25 weeks along. I called my doctor to ask for an ultrasound. I went in that day and there was not a heartbeat. We had a son.
I cannot begin to explain the depth of pain that pierced my heart that day. The loss. The sorrow. The agony. My baby was dead, and there was nothing, absolutely nothing that I could EVER do about it. I would not ever have the opportunity to hold him alive! This was more than I could understand, more than my heart could hold, more than I ever thought would happen. It was too much!
Arrangements were made to go to the hospital and give birth. Give birth to our dead baby. I would not bring him home. Friends knew, but nobody really knew what to say. It was awkward. My husband tried to understand, but it was very different for him. This was his child too, but he was not holding this child inside his body. He did not live with him every single day, not like me. My thoughts never left this baby, not ever. But now, I was going to the hospital. I would be given a drug that would force my body to deliver him, and he would no longer be inside of me. He would be gone. And, I would need to move on.
I went through regular labor. My doctor was there. My husband was there. He was born. We held him. He was so small. So perfect and amazing. I wasn't sure what went wrong, and I asked God if I would every know? My husband laid in the bed beside me and just held me for a long, long time. I was thankful for the drugs, because I didn't want to think too much. Not right then, my heart was stabbing in pain, I just wanted to float away in my hospital bed beside my husband.
Then we came home and it felt like I would not be able to face reality. I spent hours playing with our youngest son, and taking him for walks...and avoiding people. It was the worst thing in the world for me to be with people. I sat at coffee shops and cried. And I prayed for answers. I wondered if there was anyone at all that understood this kind of pain. It didn't feel like it to me. Friends said I should be in church, but no one asked me how my heart was. So, I just stayed away.
And, this was the beginning of a very long journey of loss, and a very good journey of joy!