I’ve spent a good part of those months wanting to write but having no idea what… Or really how.
You see, we got another shot at a new life. We found out we were pregnant.
Some of you will want to stop reading now. But I ask that you keep going.
Because I know, I know, that these words hurt some of your hearts. Hearts much like mine that would be grateful on some level and yet the ache would cut deeper into your own heart and the never ending question of ” will I get that…ever?”
Some of you are trying. And have been for months. Years. Maybe even a decade.
Some of you aren’t sure if you can do it again. If you want to try again.
Some of you have been told it’s too risky for either you or baby to try again.
Some of you have paid thousands of dollars in trying to become a mother… Only to be a bereaved mother. That was never the kind of mother you intended to be.
All of you have stories. All of you have pain. And none of us understands half of this.
I’ve been there. Grateful for the mama who gets another shot. A shot at life instead of death. But it’s a reminder of what we don’t have, didn’t get, maybe never will. And it hurts, despite the best intention of joy.
My husband and I were a couple who have never had trouble getting pregnant. (Please try not to resent me for saying that, dear mama.) And we lost Philip, and we took months to answer the question of if we should try… If we could try. And if We couldn’t have another baby… Would we still be content?
It took me months and months of thinking and praying to finally come to a form of “yes”. A “yes” that wasn’t stemmed from resentment, but from knowing my God is a God of grace and if it was His will then it needed to be mine as well.
Finally, we decided to try “one last time”. We would give it 6 months and see what doors (if any) God would open.
By no means were we certain that this was the right step. To be honest, it felt a whole lot more like a leap of faith than a step. But we hoped. And we trusted.
For 4 months we tried. And every month when I took the test and it resulted and instant “no”, I had to remind myself that “Hope perseveres.” And honestly, I didn’t always feel that way. By month 4 I felt confused. Exhausted. I questioned my motives and I questioned if this, this answer of “no” for 4 months in a row, was God’s answer.
I didn’t want it to be.
But what if it was?
Could I still be content if Gods answer was “no”?
I tried to be. I do know that.
We were both exhausted, run down, and questioning a lot of things, from our own hearts to God’s. We decided to try for one more month before taking “no” as our final answer. We decided to be content even in our pain of “no” and trusted that that was Gods plan, and His will.
Month 5 came and went, and with it came a positive test.
Hope arose within me. The kind of Hope I could feel. I had my answer- Or so I thought…God did want me to have another chance at this.
My story wasn’t over at raindrops…
He was going to bring rainbows too!
The next few weeks came and went , filled with more anxiety and worry than I knew I consumed. I questioned my faith. Was it not strong enough? God said not to worry in His word… But I felt like I didn’t know how to not worry. I went for an ultrasound d because I could hardly believe it was real. Sure enough, there was my baby. My rainbow of Hope, Heartbeat flickering away and all. I started to hope from the depths of pain.
We named her Hope. It seemed only appropriate. We prayed. We thanked Him for our blessing. We celebrated her little life and hoped with all hope we would get to hear her cry and see her little eyes look up at us one day.
She would have been due a few weeks from now.
But Hope, true Hope in Christ, does not dissapoint.
Though the next days would hold hours of questioning and darkness and grieving again… Our Hope in Christ remained, though wavering, it remained the tiny light flickering amidst a repeat of darkness.
Our Hope in Christ would not bring dissapointment, though our life experiences did, when I miscarried our baby girl Hope.
Raindrops fell again. Dark clouds co eyes over our ray of sunshine and hope for a time. And we wondered How God was using this for good. We couldn’t see it. Not then. Not always now.
But we knew that somehow, even this, losing Hope, was a part of His good plan for us.
We went back to the questions again. You know the ones… The “if’s”, the “what ifs”, and the “as if’s”.
We prayerfully considered if our answer was, in fact, “No”. We agreed to take a break and pray independently to see what doors God would open, if any.
A few months went by. There were ups and downs.
And then one day, by Gods grace alone, I took a test and found out that in my unsuredness, He had clarity and He had answered a question that I barely knew how to ask, or if I would ask it again.
I was pregnant. Again.