It's hard to believe it's been a month since my D&C. This isn't a straighforward miscarriage, my doctor said. No "products of conception" found. Hormone levels were still rising. Ectopic? "Pregnancy of unknown location." Hip injection. Bloodwork. Wait. Bloodwork. Wait. Finally good news. Good/bad news. Hormone levels going down. The beginning of the end. Now I can start to grieve. Now I can just cry over my lost baby without worrying about the medical parts so much. I am relieved, but it is very strange that my life can just go on, like nothing. I'd rather still be pregnant.
Isn't that absurd? I went from "damnit, I had plans!" to "damnit, I made room!" I made room in my heart for another little one. And I struggle to understand the purpose of all of this. Why did God even bother to make a new life if He was just going to take it back a few weeks later? "It wasn't meant to be," they say. "There was something wrong with the baby," they say. Why doesn't that make me feel better? Did the Great Knitter drop a stitch?
In my heart I know it's much more complicated than a simple dropped stitch. With everything that has happened in the world since this whole saga began: more hurricanes, flooding, earthquakes, fires... devastation is everywhere, both out loud and deep in our hearts. We don't understand. Why would God allow this? I used to prattle off the "we live in a fallen world" response, but I won't pretend I really know the answer because, especially these days, I just don't get it.
What is God thinking?
Why is this His will?
How can He possibly use this for my good?
How am I better from it?
I always think about God when I start to sculpt a face out of fondant for one of my cakes. I start with a malleable ball that is then pulled, poked, pushed, and cut to create the features I want. Sometimes the fondant is resistant to the subtle changes I make, or it dries too quickly and cracks, or my tool slips and makes a stray mark. Sometimes, no matter what I do, it just doesn't look right, so I re-roll the ball and start over, and I do it again and again until it is perfect. I suspect God's creative process bears some similarities when it comes to forming souls, and sometimes He might even have to do something drastic... not because He made a mistake or is clumsy or doesn't care, mind you, but because He is remaking me, changing me into something new. He creates and recreates until the thing He made is good. He is Good. Good and terrible. Being remade hurts and doesn't always immediately make sense.
What has become increasingly, painfully clear, is that I unwittingly joined a secret club that has way more members than anyone imagines and no one wants to be a part of. But everyone loves each other here, and I am not alone in my sorrow. I already knew many mommies who have walked this road more than once, but even more friends have reached out to me and shared about their lost little ones. I hate the circumstances that created this camaraderie, but I am so thankful for my friends who have listened, called, prayed, written, and just been with me. I like to imagine our babies are all playing together in Heaven. And that thought makes me yearn and ache for the day I will finally meet my little saint. If I didn't want the glories of Heaven enough before, I surely do now.
I've had a shift in perspective. My three living kids have become so much more precious to me. Life seems more fragile. Someone will be missing in all our future family photos. A lifelong "what if?" A hanging question mark... ? Then there is the inevitable question: "are you going to try again?" Well, no. We weren't even trying. I don't want another baby. I wanted THAT baby. I know it doesn't make sense, but that's what it is. And honestly, I'm afraid of getting pregnant because what if I lose another baby? I can't go through all that again.
It's the "awareness month" for pregnancy and infant loss. I've never been keen on the concept of "awareness months" for all the different causes, and it is no different now that I "belong" to a cause... I know it helps others heal and won't deny them that, but maybe my experience is still too fresh for me to want to be a part of it. We're encouraged to "speak the baby's name." I have a list of possible names in a note on my phone that I never got to choose. But our baby does have a name because we always name our kids something silly in the womb before settling on their actual names... I just don't feel like telling everyone what it is yet. I'm aware. Keenly aware that I'd rather be pregnant, which is bizarre considering my initial feelings. I know how far along I should be every week, when my due date was supposed to be even though my doctor never officially gave me one. I unsubscribed from all the emails and updates and things, but sometimes coupons for prenatal vitamins still make it to my mailbox. Little reminders like that make me cry, but they are also the only reminders that our little one existed, and though I don't want to light a candle, I don't want to forget or pretend like my baby wasn't here either.
I'm hoping that this week will be my last for blood tests (no, it's still not completely over), so say a prayer if you would. I know it's kind of weird to blog about all this (instead of just talking to a select few close friends), but it's easier this way. I have a hard time actually talking about it, but I can't keep it all to myself either.
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