I have a story to tell (kind of a long one). Not because I want pity or attention. But because of my stance on life, that all life matters. Even the life still in the womb. This is my story, this is a part of who I am.
There is really only one thing I've ever wanted to be when I grow up. A mommy. Oh sure, I had careers in mind, but they were never consistent. Even now I have trouble pinning down just what I want to do. I'm almost 30 and I have no career goals. Know why? I've never really wanted a career. I have always wanted to be a housewife and stay-at-home-mom. That is the only consistent goal I've ever had.
One problem....The one thing I have always wanted has thus far eluded me. I have no children. I am not a mommy... Or at least that's how the world sees it.
This coming Sunday, July 19th, would have been 20 weeks. The halfway mark. We would have known the gender. We would have been registering for the nursery. We would be blissfully happy, instead of all the negative emotions we currently feel.
Five and a half years ago we didn't think we were ready for kids so we used preventative measures. Three years later we decided it was time to try. Five days before our fifth anniversary we were given the official diagnosis. "You are infertile. Both of you have issues preventing conception. Without medical intervention you may never conceive a child."
The sound of shattering glass was almost audible as our dreams came crashing to the ground. It was time to start looking at our budget, arranging doctor visits, see if anything can be fixed to conceive naturally before letting a third party into the proverbial marriage bed.
And then IT happened. I felt funny, like Aunt-Flow was about to visit, but slightly different. And yet AF never came. The day before Easter Sunday I took a test. My thoughts were "take a pregnancy test so I can stop siking myself out and relax and let AF happen...Yep just one line I figur...wait... What's that? Second line!!!" Showed hubby... Cried!
The hallelujah chorus started! Called sister... Cried! Ran to tell bff...cried and jumped up and down like couple of school girls! Told a few other very close friends...cried. Vowed to keep it a secret from anyone else until first ultrasound...ok so I told a few other people... I was too excited.
Two blissful, nauseous, exhausting weeks and then the next phase. Spotting on my unmentionables. Bliss turned into the darkest month of my life. This miracle baby, the one I was sure was my child I had begged God for, was gone. Seven weeks and 1 day, no beating heart. I waited two agonizing weeks, begged God to let me pass the baby naturally so that I did not have to go through any meds or medical procedures... nope. Had to get the D&C.
I was in a bad place. I was (and in some senses still am) depressed. I was angry! Angry at Him for taking my child. Angry at Him for not letting me pass my baby in a humane dignified way. Angry at Him for letting me be happy, giving me what I prayed for and then ripping it away from me. Angry at Him for letting me be infertile in the first place. Millions of girls and women don't want babies and throw them away like last weeks leftover mashed potatoes. Why not make them infertile instead? I've always loved God, I've made mistakes, sure, I'm human. But I've done my best to follow Him. So why me?
That anger had subsided some. I've gotten to the point where I realise that God did not do this to me. Sin did this to me. We live in a fallen broken world where death and decay are the ultimate end. Some just go earlier than others. I still get angry and I still hurt. I'm so broken right now. I just want my Little One back.
And if I'm being completely honest with myself, I'm not ok. Whenever I receive a pregnancy announcement in any form (Facebook, phone call, face to face) I want to be happy. I want to rejoice. But I don't. I feel jealous. I feel envious. I feel annoyed over the fact that "they're younger than me" or "they haven't been married as long as I have" or "they're too irresponsible." I hate my feelings! I don't want those to be my gut reactions and I try to change it really quickly. I recognize it and then I check my attitude... but it's my current reality. I'm seriously broken...
We named the Little One Jayden. We didn't know the gender so we chose a name that could be for both. It's a Hebrew name meaning "Thankful" or "Yahweh has heard."
Here is the main point of my story. This is where my stance on the Sanctity of Life comes in. We are indeed Thankful for our little one. We know now that we can get pregnant without medical intervention. This little life meant so much to me and my Love. We are parents, no matter what the world says about preborn children. I AM A MOMMY! I have loved and lost. I loved my Jayden baby more in the two weeks I knew about him/her than I ever knew I was capable of. Jayden's life holds meaning, hope, love, healing.
My Little Love is with my Jesus. The first face Jayden's little eyes ever saw was Jesus'. Jayden will never know rejection, pain, sadness, depression, temptation. Jayden will never be treated poorly, teased, neglected, suffer a broken heart or die a painful death. Jayden will only ever feel love, warmth, happiness and the arms of my Savior, forever. In that I find comfort.
I take it a day at a time. One day I'm fine and the next day I'm a wreck. One moment I'm not even thinking about it and then something will trigger a memory and I'll lose it.
If you're in this boat with me please take comfort in someone. Talk about it. It doesn't have to be online or as public as this, but someone needs to know your baby existed. Someone needs to celebrate and mourn that life with you. #ALLlivesmatter even the unborn.
Thank you for taking time to read my story.
Mommy loves you Jayden. You will always be my favorite "what if". Rest with Jesus until our blessed reunion.
1 comment:
I am so sorry, sweetheart, I was you, 35 years ago. I had 6 pregnancies, we named them all. All were preborn. I could not carry a child to term. I experienced all the same feelings you describe. I hurt, ached, I was destroyed for several years. So as not to show anger at God, I consoled myself by attending church anyway. But oh yes, I was angry! And you know what? God understood. He knew my pain and anguish. He knows yours. You're so right, we live in a fallen world. It's truth. But it doesn't exactly take away our pain. Nor should it. What you feel is just and real and should be felt. I will be praying earnestly for you. I know exactly how you feel.
By the way, God had exactly the family for us He wanted. We adopted Michael and Caitlyn and delighted in God's choices. Laurie
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