We’ve been hoping to start our family. And looking at our circumstances, you would probably call us crazy.
But we’ve been hoping to start our family–that I would get pregnant–that we would have children to call our own.
We’ve been trusting the Lord’s timing in all of it–trusting that He would start our family in His time.
And that’s been a journey all on it’s own. I’ve been learning to trust at deeper levels.
Several months ago, I thought that I was pregnant. I had some early signs. And I was just starting to feel nauseous every morning.
Listening to my body, I thought I was pregnant.
But then I started my period.
And so the hope was dashed.
And I started hoping for the next month.
I didn’t fully understand what was going on until about a month ago.
I had been extremely moody. I’ve been struggling with feeling depressed the past couple of months.
I had only let a few people into that deep place of my heart. Because, for some reason, I felt like I was walking through a season of grieving.
But I didn’t know exactly why.
I was also rapidly moving along the pendulum of depression and joy–swinging back and forth, sometimes in the period of a few minutes.
I had been asking Papa what was going on in my heart, body, and soul. Because I just didn’t understand what was going on.
It was a little over a month ago that Papa started showing me some answers.
And He started walking me through His process.
I had a miscarriage.
My body DID start going through all the changes necessary for pregnancy all those months ago. And so I’ve been coming off the hormonal changes the past couple of months. My body has since been trying to figure out “normal” again.
But for some reason, my body couldn’t support the life of this little one. And his or her life ended before it ever really began.
It ended before I really even knew for sure what was going on.
I remember when I started my period several months ago–the hurt and the unexplained feeling of loss.
And then I remembered the extra pain and bleeding that happened.
During one of my quiet times with Papa, I just knew I was supposed to look up what a 4-week miscarriage looked like–signs and symptoms.
And as I read through several different articles, all those memories from months ago came flooding back to mind.
And I broke down, sobbing, finally knowing and understanding what had been going on in my body.
I told Jon a few days later. I needed him to know what I’d been walking through.
And I wanted him to be able to understand more of my heart.
Even now, I’m still walking through questions.
I’m still working through some anger with the Lord and not understanding why our little one wasn’t able to join us in this world.
I’m still processing through my grief, as well as so many other things going on in my heart and life now.
I’m hopeful and expectant that I’ll make it through to abounding joy, once again.
But for now, I struggle.
I wait in patient affliction.
I trust that this pain is worthwhile and that He is using it for a greater purpose and glory.
But at the same time, I work through the distrust that I have deep within my soul.
I’m learning what it means to trust, again.
There are days that I don’t want to keep going.
There are days that I want to give up, because the pain is too much.
But then I see my husband, and I’m reminded of our story that the Lord wove together so beautifully.
I’m reminded of the tattoo I have on my shoulder–that Papa is weaving together a story of my life, His story of redemption–the beautiful hope.
I may want to give up. But I am confronted by a beautiful hope.