I wrote a post last year called "Contrast" and once again that is how my
life has felt lately. I have found
enlightenment, understanding, and peace in some ways. In other ways, I’m still in a very dark place
as I continue to mourn and ride the emotional roller coaster that is post-pregnancy hormones combined with new birth control hormones. I have found myself writing thoughts that are in very great
contrast to one another throughout the week. Sometimes I feel inspired, other times I feel
hopeless.
I was talking to a friend about how I'm tired of feeling
depressed because I have a good life but I feel trapped in my own head like I
can't enjoy it anymore and that is so frustrating. She
told me lots of good things to remember but the one that stuck out most was
"Just know that it's ok. It's ok to
feel the way you do, and it won't last."
It was just so nice to feel loved and validated with no judgment at
all. Honestly I've been kind of ashamed
of myself that I can't get it together but just being told it was
"ok" made a lot of difference for me.
Because I feel like I should expect more from myself. Sometimes I feel like I'm just making excuses
and that I’m too lazy to work on feeling happier. But I guess sometimes life doesn't work like
that. Life is never going to be picture
perfect, so I'd better learn to be happy in the mundane days and feel joy even
in the hard times.
Crying yourself to
sleep night after night is really hard- hormones are ridiculous. The worst part is I keep thinking if I'm more productive or
if we do something fun during the day, that the sadness will go away. But it
doesn't. We did four loads of laundry, which felt like a big accomplishment for someone exhausted with no
motivation. When it was all folded and
put away, and I finished my school chapter, I sat down expecting to enjoy the
night. I deserved it after all. I had been productive. But I just cried instead. And that hurt seemed to get stronger and
stronger as I realized that getting back to normal life might not make the
sadness go away. It's like I'm watching
my life through a curtain- I see all the good and happy things in it, but my
mind won't let me out to experience the happiness and actually feel it. I only observe it without really
participating and it makes me feel like a prisoner to my own mind. I don't know what to consider
"recovery" from an event like this.
I hope that it would include energy and lack of headaches. I hope the fatigue goes away, and I hope to
find motivation to stay busy and laugh every day.
I think the hardest
days I have are the days I try to figure it all out by myself. Because when it comes down to it, the thought
of us having another live birth doesn't seem very realistic. That's where it hurts the most. All I can do is count on a miracle for more
children. Whether that miracle will come
through pregnancy or some type of adoption in the future we won't know until we
get there- but either way it will be a miracle.
So the question I have to ask myself is "Do you trust Heavenly
Father?" If I trust Him, I trust
that He has a loving plan for my family. If Kevin and I having more children is in His
plan, it will happen. Simple as that. I have to trust Him that things will work out
how and when they are supposed to. I'm
not supposed to figure it out all alone, because I already know that doesn't work.
I don't have the power to bring a baby into the world without divine
intervention. So I need to trust Him,
trust that He loves us, have patience, and trust His plan for us if I want to
be happy.
I think this miscarriage has been most devastating of all,
and the most difficult to recover from.
After 4 times in a row we now realize how unlikely it is that our next
pregnancy will result in a live birth, or the one after that, or the one after
that. With the other losses I always had
the "hope for the next one" that I clung to fiercely. Now I'm trying to learn to cope with a new reality,
understanding that short of a miracle, that won't be the case. That it may be many years before that dream is realized. That we may end up doing IVF or other extreme
procedures. That we may end up adopting
someday. After you have your first child
with no problem, it's quite a paradigm shift. It's a scary and uncertain
world we are going to be in. The world of infertility. It's getting to the point where I am really accepting that I
don't really know how many years it's going to be. And acceptance is the first step- to healing, to a stronger faith, to patience,
and to appreciating our great blessings. I've felt like this trial has defined me for a long time-
when I look at a picture of myself or a picture of me with my family all I see
is the label "recurrent miscarriage" or "secondary
infertility" and I'm really working to get past that right now- because my
life is so much more than that, and, I
am so much more than that. I'm learning to have faith and trust the spirit that our
next child will come to us somehow, someday.
Our answer to those questions will be a peaceful reassuring feeling of love,
and that's how we will know what to do.
Now that it’s been a month, it hurts much more in a way. The world has already moved on- it’s not
really "a thing" anymore. Once the shock
and drama wears off, here I am once again, empty. Now that a month has passed it hits me all
over again- that baby is gone. Like it
never happened. The agony that reality
brings is unbearable. I
cry hysterically and feel like a lost cause because I just don’t seem to be
getting better this time. I seem to be
more angry, more heartbroken, and much more distant than I was before. It’s a very lonely time, filled with
self-loathing as you find yourself snapping at those who you care about more
than anyone in the world. I want to like
myself enough to want to start exercising again. To this point though, all I’ve found is extra
weight and no motivation. It’s just a
spiral downward some nights, and others I climb back up a little, only to fall
further the next night. I’ve never been
so torn between finding so much light and goodness, and finding so much sorrow
and despair. I want a more balanced
life. The hardest nights are when you’ve
tried everything you know how and it still doesn’t touch the pain. Talking, not talking, going out, staying in, religion, distraction, whatever. Yet, here you are in the middle of the night
shaking from emotional pain. Grief,
loss, anger, self-loathing, depression, embarrassment even. So I talk to my computer, and I write this
blog, and for some reason, that is the only thing that takes the sting out of
it for a little while.
I feel like my life needs a big change, but I’m not sure
what, or how to do it. I’ve tried to
work on my normal “goals”- more sleep, keep the house cleaner, eat better, more
exercise, more scripture reading, less TV, do more activities with Jack,
etc. It’s just not really working
because when I feel like this I don’t work hard enough on my goals. You hear parents say all the time that their
child is the light of their life. I
really mean that, especially now. At the
darker times in my life, Jack really does light up that sadness and brings me
joy. Kevin is amazingly patient and kind, trying to coach me through
breathing in my hysterics so I don’t hyperventilate (as often at least) and all
I can get out in words is “I’m so unhappy.”
I would go back and add to that “And I don’t know why.” Because in my mess of emotions I really don’t
know what I feel , aside from embarrassment.
I know I feel embarrassed when I have these breakdowns.
Somewhere in the back of my mind, I still believe that one
of our pregnancies will be amazingly normal and successful for no particular
reason, just like Jack. I hope that is
faith showing through and not unrealistic expectations. I've learned something wonderful about family through all of this. One of the reasons we have family is that it
is bigger than ourselves. When I am with
my family, I can honestly laugh and have a real smile. My pain goes away for a bit and I remember
that I'm loved and part of something wonderful.
I want to take some time to write about a book I just
finished.
Souls on Ice- what a beautiful
book. I'm not sure if we would ever
consider embryo adoption simply because we don't know if our embryo quality is
the reason for our losses. At this time
it seems to have more to do with the environment my body creates- whether that
be micro clotting in the placenta, poor attachment, thyroid issues, blood
issues, etc. Regardless, this book is a
blessing. It tells of amazing parents
and their faith through heartbreak and their experiences of miracles. It is so validating to read of the pain of
these couples. It pierces my heart because I really know how they feel as they
describe their sorrow. Sometimes it is
infertility alone, and sometimes it comes with the sorrow of miscarriage after
miscarriage. It is comforting to know I'm not alone, yet I wonder why
this is our trial. I was always afraid
of infertility, yet here it is. I take
joy in my beautiful boy and am thrilled and saddened simultaneously to think he
has just started preschool. I wish I had
fully understood the magnitude of the miracle that was his birth. But I know the miracle of his life now- so I
won't waste more time mourning and wishing I could hold him again as a newborn and
know how long it would be before that would be a possibility for me again. To know I had the experience is a beautiful
blessing and I pray with all sincerity for another chance at it someday. And though I know that adoption/ embryo
adoption are beautiful and wonderful ways to create a family, I am thankful to
have a child that is our own- that he looks like his daddy and has my hair
color (well, my natural one.) Though it
is not necessarily a better way to have a family, it is certainly a blessing
from God. Love makes a family- but I
know now how blessed I am to have a biological child that I was able to have a
normal vaginal delivery with. I'm so
thankful I will always have the experience with me. I still can't believe we
have him. He was born 6 weeks before our
first anniversary. How is it even
possible? My very first pregnancy and relatively
no problems? He is the definition of a
miracle.
A few more of my thoughts on embryo adoption. The
beauty of these stories overwhelms me.
As I read the experiences of these couples and stare at these pictures
of beautiful, happy, breathing and thriving babies it is affirmed to me that
life begins at conception. The potential
for human life lies within each embryo, and though we cannot control the
outcome we should have the utmost respect and love for these two celled
beings. There is a sense of holiness
about them. These pictures of these
children amaze me. They were two cells
frozen for up to ten years- but because their parents loved them before they
were born- they gave them a chance at life.
Those specific children may not have existed otherwise- they may have
been thrown away or donated to science.
But they were born, to families that they were meant to be a part
of. That affirms to me that God not only
has a plan for each of us, His living children, but for each embryo that comes
into existence. He knows who we are, who we will be, and where we
belong. Though the heartbreak may span
through years, if we trust Him we can see His miracles and His care for each
tiny life. He loves us so much. I need to trust Him more that He sees the end
from the beginning and that He knows how our children will come to us and who
they are. He knows how and when they
will come. More importantly, He knows
the reasons why timing doesn't always work the way we expect it to. There are reasons. I have to believe there are reasons.
The other observation I’ve had while reading these accounts
of embryo adoption, is that of strong faith in infertile families. It seemed every story revolved around a
couple that was so dedicated to God that He was in every thought they had. I feel like often, couples who have the
strongest faith are chosen for this trial because without strong faith it would
absolutely break you. In a way, I feel
as though I should feel privileged to have such a burden because it seems that
God knows I can trust Him and find that faith within myself. It’s like He’s saying “You can do this too-
like these amazing faithful people you look up to. I know you can do it.” My hematologist once told me that God’s plan
is never clearer to him than to see a faithful, able, and willing couple
struggle to have a child. He explained
that there is so obviously a precise plan for the families in these
situations.
This book has been such a blessing to me. It’s strengthened my faith and helped me feel
the Spirit. It has reminded me that God
has a plan for us, and that He does provide miracles, even daily miracles. I have felt so validated in my sorrow as I
have read accounts of parents who have been through all kinds of different
situations with similar heartache. Embryo
adoption is about finding love as a human family for each being, and taking care
of our own. We connect family to family
and person to person, and through these kinds of trials we find love for each
individual child of God. I wonder what God would want more with frozen embryos whose
biological parents can no longer, for whatever reason, give them a chance at
life? What else besides adoption could
show as much reverence and love for these tiny beings at the very start of
life? The pictures of these little
“snowflake babies” were some of the most beautiful pictures I’ve ever
seen. It is unbelievable. From the outside it doesn’t seem like the
most conventional way to have a baby, but God works in mysterious ways and can
bring about His work in unbelievable, unimaginable ways. All stories I’ve heard of adoption, whether
it be domestic or embryo, had such key timing that the hand of God was very
obvious. I know that when we have
another child that our love for them will be stronger because of our trials,
and the miracle of their birth will be so clearly guided by heaven. I already see my miracle son in a different
way than I did last year. I am so lucky
to spend all my time with him, and to be able to raise such a sweet and
talented person.
When we ask whose child we are, genetically, or by adoptive
birth mom, or whatever way you look at it, the answer really is God’s child. Because of Christ’s atonement, He “adopted”
all of us into His family. However our
families come together is beautiful and as we are sealed together we can be a
family forever.
I wanted to share part of the conclusion of the book by one
of the authors:
“Miracles do happen.
Sometimes we stumble around, suffering and struggling, before we are
able to let go of our plan and allow
God to reveal His perfect plan for
us. His miracle…For us, the key was
not to give up, but to surrender. They
are two very different things. We never
gave up our dream. We never gave up
trying. We never gave up looking for
answers. But we had to surrender the
details. We had to surrender to God’s
timing. We had to surrender control…I’ll be honest. Those feelings of despair, disappointment and
brokenness, those didn’t heal immediately.
In those moments of grief, I’ve found it helps to pray.”
Well I’m not doing enough praying. That’s where I need to start personally. I have this picture hanging in my kitchen,
and it acts as a daily reminder why I need to be strong and carry on with diligence:
No comments:
Post a Comment