My first miscarriage was a year before my living child was born. I did not know that it would take a year to become pregnant, nor how many times I would cry each month for the longing for a child. I am forever grateful that that dear child did come and for the rich happiness that he's brought and continues to bring to my husband and I. He is truly our little miracle.
While that first miscarriage and subsequent year of trying was heartbreaking, I (along with the doctors) never would have thought that I had problems with fertility. I certainly never thought that I would go on to miscarry 5 more times. There's something somewhat indescribable about waiting those last few moments before having confirmed either one of your greatest hopes or one of your greatest fears. Yet there I was last summer sitting in the OB's office, 7-8 weeks pregnant, 2 weeks after a very hopeful ultrasound, to see if the baby was still growing, if she had developed a heartbeat as did her brother, or if we had lost her as we had lost 5 of her siblings. It was one of those unique moments where I don't know if I should hope - because if I don't hope what hope is there? - or if I should guard my emotions against more heartache. And so I try not to feel, not to think, because I don't know what to feel or think. And then when the kind doctor comes in, we chat for a minute, the whole time I'm trying to be patient and wait for the ultrasound...and I wait that last minute while changing, so unsure of what I will see on the screen, so hopeful, and yet...
When the doctor starts the ultrasound, I instantly see that in 2 weeks the baby hasn't grown, that the fetal pole is gone, and that there is no heartbeat. I cannot describe that feeling of having your worst fear confirmed. I imagine that every person handles it differently and that you don't know how you will handle it until the moment actually comes. Personally, I think I went emotionally numb. Not in denial, but just not really feeling. I became business-like and began asking questions and forming a plan. Later, when left along in the medical room with my husband, I let him hold me and I cried, we cried, and we cried some more. We got referrals to a fertility specialist and then left with heavy hearts, wondering how to inform our family of the heartache (yet again). The hardest person to share the news with was, of I course, our little son. "Why isn't she still growing in your belly?" "But I don't want her to stop growing!" "I want her to be here with us now in our house." I know, son. Me, too. Daddy, too. If only there were anything we could do or could have done...
The inability to realize the righteous, natural desire to have children is hard in whatever form it comes. This trial for us has on the one hand been lightened, because my husband and I have each other and our dear son to enjoy while waiting, and on the other hand it's more than just waiting because our son is growing. He is at an age when having a sibling now - not in 1, 2, 5 years - will benefit his growth and development greatly. He must know it, because he is constantly asking to have another child. He insists that he wants one brother and one sister (:smile:). I wish I knew why we cannot provide him one, and still hope and pray that we can while he is in this young, developing stage.
I should explain don't sit around all day and only think of our collective desire to have more children. I keep busy doing good things and I try so hard to enjoy my son while he is still young. This summer, as I was recovering from my most recent miscarriage, a dear friend of many years came to see me, sweetly bringing me flowers and her children to entertain my son. Although she has had an extremely hard load of trials herself over the years, she sincerely and lovingly let me know how much her heart aches to see me going through my trial. I told her how much my heart has ached to see her going through her [different] trial.
Then I concluded that we all will have our trials - that is a part of life. The trial itself isn't what defines us. It is the way that we react to the trial that does. Those who long for a happy marriage but don't have one can choose to be bitter towards happy couples, or they can remain faithful, rejoice in others' happiness, continuing to grow and looking forward to the day when their day comes. Those who search and search for good employment without results can scoff when their friends settle into wonderful careers, or they can be happy that not everyone has their heartache and keep finding new ways to look, considering new employment options, etc. And (as in my case), those who suffer from an exceedingly high number of recurrent miscarriages can choose to be jealous and feel hurt when seeing baby pictures and looking at photos of loving siblings, or (as I choose to do) can rejoice in seeing new life and praise God that not everyone has to suffer your same trial. The good news of my friends does not cause me to be upset that they're not also suffering. I am truly happy for them, and I love when they let me hold their babies. :-)
I wish that adoption were easier. We are still pursuing it as a very real possibility. If the chance had come up at all in the last 2 years, we would have absolutely adopted. I wish it were not so, so complicated. (Although I have recently seen a ray of hope about the possibility of adopting through foster care even while living in the Navajo Nation!). We have also scrimped and saved and have started to see the (extremely expensive!) fertility specialist, making 6 hour trips each way for our appointments. He seems so hopeful that he can help us, and says our case seems like we're 90% of the way there. I'm praying that he can help us with the other 10%. Whether our precious child (and sibling for our son) comes from through foster care, through the help of a fertility specialist, or through some other means, we will rejoice so gratefully and will love that child - the means is not as important to us as is having that wonderful spirit to love and to welcome into our home and hearts.
Meanwhile, I still hope and trust because it is much better than the alternative. I trust that the Lord will provide and (especially) that He will help us bear our trials meanwhile. He already has blessed us so richly with wonderful family and friends, and I know that as we trust in Him, He will continue to lovingly watch over us.
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