A Lesson in Suffering

We had a miscarriage.

I know some families choose to keep this loss private, but it has been a significant part of my growth and I wanted to process it in writing to share with the few friends who read this blog.

If there were such a thing as an easy miscarriage, then we got as close to that line as we could. I can imagine a million more terrible ways for it to have happened and so I feel very grateful. But really,  if any of those million other ways happened to us I'm sure we would feel grateful too... because God's story for our lives is always the best story.

Here are some of the things I learned about God, suffering and myself during this whole process...

God is good. His goodness to us was such a pillow to lay my head upon every night. The day I took the positive test I cried. I cried for an hour straight. I cried because something didn't feel right... I cried out of fear that this pregnancy wasn't going to carry through. I told Andrew and everyone else that I cried because I was overwhelmed (I was too ashamed to admit what I thought was pessimism.). But I cried because I felt God, even in the beginning, preparing my heart to swallow bitterness.

But God was good to me to start preparing my heart in the beginning. I see that now.

God was good to prompt us to tell some of our closest friends what was going on as we had one and then two ultrasounds that showed no growth in the sac. There was a horrible two week time period of not knowing if this baby would grow or if it had stopped. Having sweet friends call us, pray for us, and encourage us during this time was God's goodness. This may have been the first time I really knew and felt when friends were praying for me.

God was good to allow me to be in the doctor's office, about to have my third ultrasound, when I started to bleed. After the final ultra sound to show, again, no growth...  I was able to see my doctor straight away. I cried because I was sad but I also cried because I couldn't believe how good God was to allow me to be at the doctor's office when one of my greatest fears was that I would be home alone with Wilson when it happened. He knows. He cares.

And God has been good to carry us through these last few weeks of the aftermath, especially through sweet friends and family who have loved us so well.

Suffering is bitter, but it is mostly sweet. I feel ashamed to call this loss suffering when I compare it to so many different hurts in this world... but there was pain and it is surely a wound that will never leave us. Oh, it was bitter. The hope of life and the loss of hope. The waiting and not knowing. The roller coasters of thinking everyone is making too big a deal of it to wondering why no one is talking about it.

But it was and is mostly sweet. There was much time spent in our Father's arms... and who can leave His arms without feeling overwhelmed with love? There was amazement in how incredible our friends and family are. There was wrestling in prayer, which toned my prayer muscles. There was a pull in my heart towards His Word... a place that I found much rest. Our pastor happened to be going through Habakkuk and leading us through wisdom on how to suffer well. At times it was all too much grace for my heart to contain.

I have to admit that there were times when I wanted to pretend like it wasn't happening. I wanted to tell myself that I was really fine and I needed to move on. In God's providence this was a very, very long process (about six weeks). My body did not allow me to move on, and in the end I was thankful that God instructed me that suffering well means entering into the suffering. Acknowledging the pain and dealing with the pain was much more helpful than ignoring the pain... because it reminded me I had a need and drove me to my Savior.

I am prone to love myself first. It's never fun to see sin in your heart, but it's particularly painful when it happens during suffering. I saw some ugly things in my heart during this time. One of those things was a sense of entitlement. The day after the miscarriage I went shopping for some Christmas decorations and found thoughts going through my head like, "I deserve to treat myself. I deserve to have this be the best Christmas." I immediately seized these thoughts... what truth is there in them? It is true that God loves to take care of His children, but I did not deserve these blessings any more than I did before the miscarriage.

I also found myself, at first, becoming numb to others' suffering. I wanted to believe that our pain was at the center of the universe and everyone else should push pause on their pain for just a few moments and tend to our needs. That's a terribly ugly thing to admit, but it is true. But the more we were loved on by friends and family, the more humbled I became... and it made me think that this is what the writer of Hebrews was aiming at when he asked us to consider how to "spur one another on towards love and good deeds." By being loved, I felt spurred on to love others more than myself. I have a long way to go.

But I think the most incredible thing we learned in this whole situation was that God will not forsake us. The worst part of this was those weeks when we didn't know if I would miscarry or not. The imagining what the suffering would be like was worse than the suffering itself: Would God let us fall forever? No. We tripped and He caught us. He did not forsake us.

Thanks to all who loved us so well during this time!! We are indebted to you.

"I have said these things to you, that in me you may have peace. In the world you will have tribulation. But take heart; I have overcome the world.” John 16:33