Loving, Losing, Living... and Being "Enough"

Look!!  Finally a post from Mom!!

I have in me this need to write. Writing helps me sift through my experiences and make sense of them when they are senseless.  When life is in disorder and chaos all around, writing brings me back to perspective and gives me space enough to see things for what they are.

I haven't been able to write in awhile because the chaos and disorder that has been engulfing me has been overwhelming.

And completely beyond my control.

I look around me and see people going through things that are tough. And hard. And painful.  I admire the strength that I see in my friends that have dealt with pain and disease and loss so gracefully and with such determination and focus. What amazing strength.

I am nowhere near that strong. 

I may seem to have it together. Or maybe I don't.  I don't know how others perceive me, but I do know that until this summer I thought I could handle anything with grace and wisdom.

I can't. 

I have a beautiful family. My husband loves me with a strength that I never imagined.  He makes me feel cherished and needed and strong.  My two children are healthy and amazing. They help give my life purpose and meaning and depth like I never understood before they came along.



My little bump.

And this spring we found out we were going to have another baby.

I was shocked. We had planned everything up to that point.  I'm a planner. Three children wasn't part of MY plan.  Three children was more than I thought I could handle. It took some time for the idea of a new baby to excite me. When we went in for our first ultrasound I was still dealing with a bit of shock. 

And then I heard it.  And saw it.  A little heartbeat. A strong little heartbeat. And my eyes met those of my wonderful husband and all was right with the world.  This little life was a blessing. And we would be fine and we would love this new baby just as we love Emalee and Eston. 

We tossed around names.  And told our children. And everyone else.  I couldn't hide it for long - the third pregnancy is quite tough to hide. I started to show very early and bought new maternity clothes.  I looked for a "first outfit"... but we had decided not to find out whether or not we had a boy or a girl and nothing seemed quite right.  Nothing was cute enough.  

I went in for my 12 week appointment alone because it was just a routine appointment.  I knew that I would probably get to hear the baby's heartbeat again, but everything else was fine.  No need for Daniel to come along.  I felt great.  I even remarked to someone the week before that I "didn't even feel pregnant". 

Then it happened.  The doctor couldn't find the heartbeat.  To ease my mind, he rolled in the ultrasound machine since it was a bit early and sometimes hard to find.  I still thought everything was OK.  And then I didn't.  When we saw the baby I knew.  Our baby was gone. Just gone.  And I never had a clue. And I hated myself for it.  How could I not know something was wrong?  How could I not know that the life growing inside of me had stopped. 

How could I?

That was in late June.  It is now almost October and my emotions are still so raw. And my body is still not back to normal.  And I am so sad. And I am still struggling with life without this baby I never realized I wanted.  Until it was too late. 

Life is hard. And life is wonderful.  And life doesn't make sense.

I am grateful and angry at the same time.  I am all over the place with how I feel.  I feel incredibly inadequate and then I feel like super-mom.  I am a mess.  I deal with the sense that there is not enough of "me" to go around.  How can I deal with what happened this summer and still be present enough to give my family what they need for each day?  How can I love my children enough?  How can I be the wife that my husband deserves?  How can I be enough for everyone?

I can't on my own.
God has this.

I haven't mentioned God at all in all of this. He is how I have been able to cope.  He is the only reason I have been able to get out of bed each day and carry on.  He has carried me.  He has sustained me.  He has held me. 

He doesn't tell me that things like this just happen.
He doesn't tell me that this is common.
He doesn't tell me that this wasn't a real baby yet. 
He doesn't tell me that I should be happy to have two healthy children.
He doesn't tell me that I will be fine one day.
He doesn't tell me how I should feel.

He is.
He is my strength.
He is my healer.
He is my comfort.
He is forgiveness.
He is grace.

He is enough. 

On my own I will never be enough. On my own I lack the strength and the patience and the grace for each day.  On my own I am on my own. 

I am so glad that I am not on my own. 

I am so glad that I am a child of God.