Wednesday, November 23, 2011


Even as I type, my heart feels an ache and there is a sizable lump in my throat. I actually am in a wavering state of emotion, on edge, and I'm near an anxiety attack. Even so, I want to be obedient to the Lord and write about this. It causes me much difficulty and not-so-subtle grouchiness to blog about this. So, bear with me. Feel free to pause reading and come back at a later time, because this will not be easy.

11-23-11 (today) is significant in the life of our family because we were originally due to have a baby. We were excited to know that a baby was going to be part of our family when we found out early last Spring. We were thrilled and terrified all at once, only Josh and I knew for quite a while. We hardly knew what to say to each other for a solid 8 weeks. We went to the doctor, heard a heart beat and checked out normal. Knowing our history, we had every right to keep caution on our minds. However, there is something so sacred about a new life that is under full control of God. As I reminded myself time and time and time again, almost every day, there is NOTHING I can do to secure the success of this pregnancy. Still, we hoped, prayed, rejoiced, and stepped in faith towards our destiny with this child.

We made it to 10 weeks, and I began to have pain and spotting. Alarmed, we called in and I went to the doctor immediately. At this point, more of our closest friends and family knew about the pregnancy, so we asked for prayer and tried to lean on the Lord's everlasting goodness. We trusted He was in control no matter what, that never changed. On the morning of April 25th, I had an ultrasound that was normal. I got to see the baby moving. I saw a head, arms, and legs. Tears just streamed down my face, pure joy to know the baby was ok. My doctor sent me home with the good news that everything was fine and its normal to experience this situation in pregnancy. I breathed a HUGE sigh of relief and I couldn't wait to call Josh. The only thing I was upset about was that he didn't get to see the baby like I did.

We met up later in the day and did some errands and went shopping for Mya's room. Our then 3 year old was right ready for a big-girl bed (twin), new sheets, and a new shelf for her books. So we carried on with our day as planned and praised God for His grace and love. Excitement set in once again.

Later that same evening, I began to feel sick to my stomach and achy all over. Thinking I might have caught some virus, I headed to the restroom. The next thing I know, I had lost the baby. That's right, gone. I knew it was strange, and I thought to my self, wow. Then I said out loud, "OH no! You are kidding. No way." I was shocked. I called for Josh, and told him. His reaction was the same. May was already in bed, so we immediately called in and made the decision to go to the ER. We were concerned about what to do with Mya, but sweet friends of ours were quick to take her to their house for the night.

The next thing that happened was close to what hell is like, I'm sure.  We had to wait in the ER waiting room for what seemed a wretched eternity.  To see the pain on the faces of the others waiting as well, and knowing my own pain at the same time was very dark.  I begged for mercy and for peace.

Before long, I was placed in a room and my nurse had gone out to get things ready for my paperwork and to start my IV.  I had only changed into a hospital gown at this point.  I laid on the bed, and my husband sat in the chair.  I felt bad for him, there was nothing he could do but to be with me in this terrible time.  I winced in extreme pain; this pain is like none other I've experienced to this day.  This is the kind of thing that women go through, but rarely talk about.

Just as sure as I was ready to give in and pass out, within one breath...the pain stopped.  Vanished.  I was sure God had moved and His mighty hand calmed this storm.  I looked up at Josh, who had his eyes closed (ppsshhh!) and I said to him, "Did you pray for me?"  It was like the Holy Spirit tipped me off to his prayer. He popped open his eyes, and looked at me as though he was in trouble and said hesitantly, "... yeah"  I then told him to my own amazement the pain had ceased! I knew exactly what had happened, and I asked Josh why he hadn't prayed that prayer sooner!  Seriously though, I asked what it was that he prayed and he answered, "I prayed, Lord Jesus-come to her rescue." And He most certainly did!

So needless to say the rest of the night was of no pleasant nature, but I rested in the arms of Jesus in a new way from then on.  Through this part of our story, I believe God was assuring Josh's spiritual authority over me, as my husband, and head of our household.  Even since then, I will say in jest- Honey have you prayed for me?  There is something sacred and real about my husband being in authority over me, my family, and my home.  I trust him, and that's because I know he trusts in His Lord.  It's Biblical to live this way.

It sounds strange to say it, but if this were the only reason to go through this miscarriage, then I'm at peace with that. God continues to be good, even in our darkest of hours.