It was September of last year. I was sitting in the youth room of our church on a Wednesday evening, surrounded by teenagers and a couple other leaders. Someone was teaching a lesson. Suddenly my phone beeped. I recognized by the sound that it was a calendar update. I glanced down at it, "Baby Creamer Due Today."
My mind flashed back to nine months earlier and the positive pregnancy test. My husband and I had been pretty shocked to be expecting our fourth child. Ten days later I miscarried. I was upset, surprised by how attached I had gotten in only ten days. But, I thought about friends who had suffered through much more devastating loss and pushed my sad feelings aside.
I obviously had not remembered that in those ten days I put the baby's due date into my cell phone. I glanced around the room to see if anyone had noticed my sudden display of emotion. It had gone unnoticed and the night went on as usual.
Miscarriages are apparently very common. But, why don't we talk about it? By the way, my pushing the feelings aside was not a good choice. Some friends got together to spend some time praying with me. I didn't even realize it was something I needed, but really helped me deal with the situation and to allow myself to grieve.
I didn't talk about it much. How do you even bring that up if someone doesn't already know about it? I'm not sure why I'm even talking about it now. We just found out two weeks ago that I'm pregnant again. I was pretty scared at first to let myself be happy. I was waiting to see if it would stick or not. I've made it to six weeks and I'm feeling like crap. It seems that this pregnancy is going perfect.
I just take comfort in knowing that I am safe in God's hands. He has always always taken care of me and blessed me beyond my wildest dreams. I'm okay with whatever His plan is for me and that He'll get me through it. He's worth it, and I am, too.
