We found out on Tuesday, February 5, 2019 that our pregnancy would not continue. The baby had stopped growing and a heartbeat could not be detected. We were about 10 weeks along. Blighted ovum they said. Meaningless words to us that fell on shocked ears. It’s funny how news like this can’t be understood, swallowed right away. What did this person just say? Who is this person anyway?
It’s been raining here in Kathmandu for 2 days straight. And I can’t help but think that God is weeping alongside us, not for this little one that never made it earth side, but for us. For the expectations not met, the joy not fully realized, and the weight on our hearts as we try to understand.
I read somewhere recently that there is a difference between pain and suffering. Pain happens in the body, while suffering happens in the mind. I would add to this list the word “grief.” If pain is in the body, and suffering is in the mind, I would argue that grief happens in the heart. It is a cloud of heaviness that covers the heart. But in the middle of it, I believe the most important choice we make is if we will continue to look into the eyes of the Father as we grieve, or will we turn away?
Right now, we are working hard to not turn away. In the anger, in the bitterness, in the confusion, in the fear, we will not turn away. We will continue on in the mystery of life, believing that stories change and God is still in control.
“This is how faith looks, sometimes: a blunt refusal to stop speaking into the divine silence” – an excerpt from An Alter in the World, by Barbara Brown Taylor
It’s difficult right now to see photos of expecting mamas and newborn babies. It’s difficult fighting the temptation to believe that others are “more blessed” or did something right to deserve a different outcome than ours. But I’m also reminded of all the mamas I know who’ve experienced this type of heartbreak before. I am short-sighted to believe that I am alone in this. I’m self-sighted to think that I somehow controlled this outcome.
This might sound very strange, but I feel like the Lord prepared me in some ways for this. Back when we first found out we were pregnant, I had a lot of fear surrounding pregnancy while dealing with an autoimmune issue. I felt the Lord speaking to me the word “Secure.” Over and over, I heard this and knew that this baby’s future was secure, no matter the outcome of the pregnancy. This gave me so much courage to keep taking it one day at a time.
And now, it still gives me courage. There’s so much in life that I can’t understand. That I will never understand. And I am still scared moving forward. But as this rain pounds our roof, I am also so aware of these roots growing deeper and deeper into the ground as we keep looking to our Father while we grieve. I am choosing to believe that this winter rain is not only God weeping with us, it is softening soil and preparing us for Spring.
“I’m sure now I’ll see God’s goodness in the exuberant earth.
Stay with God.
Take heart. Don’t quit.
I’ll say it again:
Stay with God.”
Psalm 27: 13-14 The Message