Someone recently told me that she admired how deeply my two miscarriages have affected me. That was such a refreshing thing to hear because I often feel unworthy to even feel so much grief over what society calls "blobs of tissue." But she reminded me that my grief was my own and if I feel this way in my heart, then I need to allow myself to feel this way without guilt.
I've read this article before, but I read it again recently and just love Kelly Needham's words. Her article is a list of ways to help you as you walk through miscarriage. The very first thing she mentions is to welcome grief:
"Grief occurs when something valuable is lost forever. If you have miscarried, grief is an appropriate emotion. Not only that, your grief glorifies God. It communicates to the world that life is valuable from conception and worth mourning when lost."
And for some reason my grief has been a tidal wave lately. For the past nine months I've been relatively numb to my second loss. I'm not sure why, but even when I wanted to cry no tears came and when I did cry, it was usually tears of frustration and anger, not tears of sadness. I often wondered if it would all catch up to me but began thinking maybe it wouldn't as more and more time passed.
I was wrong. As I entered into the month of April, the month we were supposed to welcome our baby girl into the world, it hit me much harder than I anticipated. But there were still hardly any tears. I began to withdraw and grew quiet, but I wasn't crying myself to sleep every night. I just felt sad.
My due date came and went. It was kind of refreshing to get past that date.. not that there aren't other dates looming overhead. But it felt like a bit of release. However it seems that just like after my first loss, the pain doesn't let up, it is just different. Without even giving it much thought, it's like my brain knows that I'd have a baby at home at this point. And my empty arms feel a little emptier, my heart aches a little bit more, and I feel further away from having my child in my arms than ever before.
The length of this season of suffering has really been getting to me lately. Time goes by so quickly I feel like I'm in a tornado most of the time. Which I guess is why Eye of the Storm (by Ryan Stevenson) has been resonating with me so much lately:
When my hopes and dreams are far from me
And I'm running out of faith
I see the future I pictured slowly fade away
And when the tears of pain and heartache are pouring down my face
I find my peace in Jesus' name.
In the eye of the storm, You remain in control
In the middle of the war, You guard my soul
You alone are the anchor, when my sails are torn
Your love surrounds me, in the eye of the storm.
And when a sickness takes my child away
And there's nothing I can do
My only hope is to trust You
I trust You LORD.
If I'm being honest I'm getting sick of this storm. I feel so weary. I'm ready to have joy without searching for it and contentment without fighting for it. My soul truly yearns for happiness and peace to be long-lasting and not fleeting. And I just realized I'm describing heaven. That is one of the biggest blessings of heartache-- it puts a yearning in your heart and mind for what only heaven can provide. It helps you realize that Jesus is the only answer. There are things I want here on Earth, but what I really and truly desire can only be found on the other side in Glory.
I've found comfort recently in 1 Kings 19 when Elijah felt so weary that he asked the Lord to let him die, but the Lord fed him and gave him strength. When I start to feel especially low, the Lord feeds me with encouragement. Whether it's through His Word, His people, or His creation. He is so faithful to provide us our daily bread.