Swirling Thoughts

My thoughts are swirling recently. Does that ever happen to you? I’ve got so many emotions and ideas and fragments racing through me that it is hard to articulate it all. Valentine’s Day always gets me feeling sentimental. For some reason, it’s always been a monumental day for me, in mostly bad ways. 

I thought that curse was broken when 2 years ago I took a positive pregnancy test on Valentine's Day. I still remember the shock of it. I can still feel my knees crumple and my eyes well up with tears of relief and gratitude. I try to focus on that memory when I feel overwhelmed or worn down by day to day life of staying home with a toddler. 

Lately, I feel like I’ve fallen into the groove of motherhood. In general I’m feeling more relaxed and flexible and like I have my act together. A bad nap day is usually met with a shrug and a sigh but we march on nonetheless. Usually. But for some reason last Friday I just couldn’t roll with the punches. Forest has been taking his sweet time transitioning from two naps to one per day. Everyone assures me that one of these days he will merge his 2 1-hour naps into 1 2-hour nap but so far for us it’s been rocky at best. 

Anyhoos, the point is that on Friday I decided that ready or not- he was gonna  start taking 1 2-hour nap per day effective immediately. Hahaha. He took a 1 hour nap and woke up raring to go.  But I felt so frustrated for some reason. I grumbled under my breath, I roughly put away my interrupted bible study and marched up to his room with my best ‘mean-mom’ face on. One look at me and he uttered ‘uh oh’ and dove down to pretend he was still sleeping. 

Of course I instantly melted over his adorableness, but still felt like my frustration was shining through. I tried faking it til I made it but mostly felt like a phony. We headed out for a playdate with friends which I think was even more beneficial for me than it was for him. But still, a short nap wasn't that big of a deal, so why was I so annoyed? I know in my head I have so much to be thankful for and yet sometimes I just fall apart over the littlest things.

Why, why, why do I crumble when I feel physically exhausted? I mean I’m getting roughly 8 hours of sleep on a nightly basis. To expect to have a large chunk of time to rest during the day just seems excessive. On a day to day basis, I know this. I accept that occasionally he will throw me a mega-nap but for the most part, that’s not my child. Some 15 month olds still don’t sleep through the night on a consistent basis. 

I have nothing, nothing, nothing to complain about. And yet, I do. I complain. And I hate that I complain. I hate that I don’t count my lucky stars every single day. I hate that I forget what a blessing Forest is. I hate that some days I forget how long and hard and faithfully I prayed for him. I forget what a miracle his very existence is. And the fact that he is healthy and beautiful and developmentally on target is just icing on the miraculous cake.  

 

Lately I’ve had several close friends have issues getting or staying pregnant. Then on Valentine’s day, my very best friend told me devastating news about her pregnancy and how the current prognosis is that her daughter may only survive a few hours after birth. So this Valentine's Day, once again my knees crumpled and my eyes filled with tears, but this time with helplessness and grief. It burdens me. 

I know how fragile pregnancy is. I know that even (and sometimes especially) the most faithful people have their hearts challenged and tested with seemingly unbearable grief. I know that they are strong and inspirational and that how they show grace, faith, and bravery in their darkest hours  shines like a light to others. But it still burdens me.   

I hate that my thoughts are swirling and that for someone who considers themselves a writer, I can’t think of a single thing to say to her other than ‘I am so sorry’ and ‘I love you’. It’s just an inadequate expression of how I feel and just how much I love her and how my heart is crushed and how I know the grief that is causing me sleepless nights is a million times stronger for her.   

And I hate that there is nothing I can do to fix it or to ease her pain. I hate that I can’t whip up some sage wisdom like I did when she had her heart broken at 16 that will bring her any comfort. I hate hate hate that God chose this to be her testimony. It’s ugly but it’s true. I trust God ultimately, but it can be so painful in the interim when you are waiting for His bigger purpose to be revealed.

I know that no better woman on earth could have been chosen as Aubrey’s mother. I know that Talia’s experience with this pregnancy will lead her to be the most compassionate OBGYN that her patients could ever dream of. That her joy and strength in the face of such a monumental grief will make others wonder where her peace comes from and they will find the answer: Jesus Christ. 

Talia meeting baby Forest for the first time on a visit to Napa.

In the brief moments I’ve spoken to her since the diagnosis she remarked ‘I don’t know how people without faith handle a diagnosis like this.’ We agreed that they must fall into complete despair with the seemingly senselessness of it all. I know that God will use Aubrey’s story to bring hope and comfort and perhaps even salvation to many others. But I still don’t like it. And I think that’s normal. 

Sometimes when I see Christians who don’t seem to waiver at all in their trust and faith in God’s perfect plan, I can get a little annoyed. Ultimately I should be striving to be like them, but I can’t help but think it’s disingenuous. Y'all know me. For better or for worse, I am a completely open book. When a friend asked how I kept my faith during a 3 year struggle with infertility, I answered honestly: Sometimes I didn’t. 

Sometimes I despaired and wallowed and lost hope and got angry and felt ungrateful. Sometimes I felt so far away from God. Sometimes  I felt like he was remaining silent in the time I needed his comfort and reassurance most. I remember pleading with Him to give me a definitive answer, whether that be 'no' or 'not yet' or 'not this way'. But still I felt as if our conversation was one sided. It wasn’t until after nearly 3 years that I started changing the way I prayed. 

Instead of praying for a child, I prayed that God would change my heart. That if I weren't going to be a mom, that he would make the desire for children lessen in my heart and replace it with a desire to serve Him and others. I asked that He use me in big ways  since not having children would significantly free up my plans for the next 20 years or so. I asked that he use my pain and sorrow for His will. 

I felt my load lightening and the heaviness of my heart easing in my chest day by day. I started to accept that God had other plans for me and tried to keep my eyes, ears, and heart open for what that might be. I felt like once I had finally accepted that his answer to my biggest prayer might in fact be 'no', my faith began to flourish once again.

But then one night I let myself just grieve one last time. I had an appointment with the fertility clinic the next day but had already decided that I wouldn't pursue any treatment if it was found that I couldn't get pregnant naturally. I felt like if that were the case then that would be God's definitive 'no' loud and clear. I was terrified to be faced with that possibility. I got on my hands and knees and wept and begged and prayed for God to reconsider me for motherhood. I cried and cried until I had no strength left. I remember starting to feel cramping from the onset of yet another period and just let out another bawling cry from the deepest parts of my soul. Little did I know that cramping I felt wasn’t another failed cycle, but the sensation of Forest making his way into my life. 

 

Meeting Talia's new baby Kye on Valentine's Day 2013, just an hour after finding out I was pregnant.

I can’t explain to you the impact the timing of this miracle had in my walk with Christ. I know that not everyone’s journey ends like mine, with a perfect pregnancy and healthy and vibrant baby boy. Some people go on to serve different roles for Christ. Some show a beautiful biblical love through adoption.  Some experience God’s miracle of parenthood through the gift of science. Some never have their prayers answered in the way they’d like them to be. 

And it’s painful and ugly and honest and raw and the hardest part is thinking that we are all alone in our grief. One of the biggest joys that Christians have on earth is fellowship with each other. To find a kindred spirit who can share our fears and pain and remind us that nothing on this Earth is forever. Nothing. That our love for our children, as breathtaking and all-encompassing as it is, is not a millionth of the amount that God loves us. 

And that he never wants us to senselessly despair. That His plan and will is perfect if we open our heart enough to accept it. It doesn't mean that acceptance still won't hurt like the dickens. But it won't be senseless. He will use our pain for His purpose. And I've found in my life that sometimes He uses turmoil to bring us back under His wing. I don't believe the old adage that God doesn't give us more than we can handle. I think He absolutely does. He gives us things that are so tough that we have no choice but to lean on Him for support.

I think Talia is so brave for deciding to blog about her pregnancy and Aubrey’s sweet life. I just know that her record, words, and faith will help another family in their time of profound grief. I hate that anyone has to go through the pain of even potentially losing a child, but unfortunately that is part of this earthly life. 

But I know that God is putting people in Talia’s life who will be able to fellowship with her and hold her hand through this difficult time, and I also know that someday she will be able to guide someone else through the confusion and raw pain that comes with this sort of prognosis. 

As much as I can’t stand to watch Talia suffer like this, I absolutely know that God knows what he’s doing and that he has chosen the most special parents and the most special baby girl to shine His light in the world. 

Photo from Talia's blog which you can read by clicking here

If you are the praying sort, please pray for this sweet family's comfort; that God continues to sustain them in their grief; that Talia’s doctor’s have wisdom, discretion and compassion for the remainder of this pregnancy; that their family is covered in prayer and support and encouragement, and that God’s will and purpose be revealed through Aubrey’s precious life. Amen.

"The Lord is close to the broken-hearted and saves those who are crushed in spirit." Psalm 34:18