Good Things to Come

This November I am grateful for being a mother.

Just shortly after Ben and I got married we decided to have children. We had such a powerful feeling that God had children waiting for us and that we should allow them into our home and our lives. I wanted to finish my degree first. Ben wanted to finish school. We lived in a tiny, one bedroom, 450 square foot apartment. We had been married for a few weeks and trying to figure out married life. Having a baby right away seemed like a ridiculous step… but our guide had shown us a better way, so we decided to start our family. We became pregnant right away. Unfortunately, after week six of the pregnancy, I had a miscarriage. Not long after that we became pregnant again. When I got to about 8 weeks we had an ultrasound. We had no idea what to expect. When the baby measured a few weeks smaller than it should have, we weren’t worried. We were just so happy to see a teeny tiny growing baby in there. We decided to announce the pregnancy to our family and start the celebrations. Our parents were all so excited hearing that they were going to be grandparents for the first time. My siblings were happy for us and excited to be aunts and uncles. As for my aunts, uncles, and grandparents… they were excited to have the term “great” officially in their name. But just two weeks later… I found myself in the emergency room, hearing a tactless ultrasound technician say that my uterus was “empty.”

I remember vividly that horrible miscarriage. I was in so much pain. The physical pain was less intense however than the emotional. I was prescribed a strong narcotic to help me through the miscarriage. I found myself taking it and sleeping all day, every day for about a week. I would wake to eat, pass more blood and tissue, then crawl silently back to bed. I hardly talked to my newly wed husband. I just wanted to sleep it all away. I felt defective. And I didn’t understand. We were trying to follow where we felt God had lead us, to start a family, so why did it have to be so difficult and heartbreaking. Why had God allowed us to suffer, when all we wanted was to do His will? It pained me to know that there were so many women carrying healthy babies to term, who didn’t want to have the baby in the first place. The term miscarriage made me mad. The official diagnosis was a spontaneous abortion. That stupid nickname was a misnomer. I didn’t mis-carry the baby… the baby spontaneously aborted! What had I to do with it?! And yet… the more I thought about it… the more I was sure I did something horribly wrong. Was I lifting too much weight during my shifts waiting tables? Was I standing too long? Was I supposed to stop bending at the waist or something? There must have been something that I had done for the baby to have aborted itself. Was I really that horrible of a future for this little one to decide that I wasn’t worth sticking with?

I had to face everyone I had told about the baby… and take it back. I apologized, like it was my fault, to our parents. They would have to wait to be grandparents. I apologized for telling everyone so early when I was informed that most people wait until they’re further along to announce. I felt so naive and exposed. They would never look at me the same way again. My entire family was notified. I was now broken, and I hated that everyone knew it.

Of course this was all in my head. My own mind was one of the scariest places for me at the time. My sweet family assured me that all would be okay. They sent me gorgeous flowers to my door. They thanked me for telling them about it all so they could be there for me. They hugged me and assured me that I was okay. And after a bit… part of me listened.

A few months went by. I recovered. I decided to stop listening to the demons in my head and started listening more to the friendlier ones outside of it. And happily… the holidays were in full swing. We tried to focus on Christmas and family, rather than on hospital and doctors bills for babies that we weren’t bringing home. And by the end of December… we were pregnant yet again.

This time however, we weren’t even admitting anything out loud to ourselves. We both knew I had missed my period. Every once in a while I’d have a craving, feel slightly nauseated, but I would ignore it. I mentioned symptoms in passing to my sweet hubby, but neither of us said anything more. We were both silently praying daily for a miracle to keep the baby that I was carrying alive. When I was ten weeks along and my belly started to pop out slightly, we finally broke the silence and went to see a doctor.

We were so surprised to find that baby was measuring well and it even had a heartbeat. With the assurance from the doctor that a chance of a miscarriage at this point was significantly lower, we decided to break the news, again, to the family. This time, we had proof that everything was going well and according to plans.

As excited as we were, I was still grieving the loss of the previous two pregnancies. I had no idea if they had heartbeats. I had no idea if I was grieving over a bit of tissue, or if those babies, those souls, had lost their chance at life. I was haunted by the idea that our family would never be complete because I had somehow lost those babies. One night I woke from a heartache induced nightmare. I dreamt that our family was missing those lost souls and everyone was living their lives without them, perfectly content and unaware that anyone was gone. I woke sobbing. Ben heard me and tried his hardest to comfort me. “It isn’t fair,” he said. “But God will make up for all our loss. We don’t know why bad things happen. What we do know, is that God promised that we will have all our losses made up for. Heaven will be so amazing, more than we can imagine. Those children, are not gone forever. Just because it is not fair now, doesn’t mean that it’ll always be that way.” I won’t ever forget what he told me, and the peace that I felt.

For those of you struggling with fertility, loss of a child, or even the loss of a dream, I believe that God will make up for it all. He knows our righteous desires. He will bless you for them. It might not turn out the way we want it to, but it will all work out in the end.

We had our sweet Jess due to some miracle. We also were blessed to have Liz without problems. But we had a miscarriage before her, and one after. Thankfully, we have since been able to find out the causes of our miscarriages and Winnie and Adrie are here safely because of it. God works in mysterious ways.

Our girls recently have been praying and praying for a baby brother. We weren’t certain that bringing another baby into the life situation we’re currently in was a wise thing to do. And yet, we have always been fine with just one more. 🙂 We are pleased to announce that their prayers have come true. Or… partly. We are expecting a sweet little bundle of joy, April 9th. And surprise! It’s another beautiful baby girl.

Now before I’m bombarded… yes, I know that I live with my parents. Yes, I know that I have my “hands full”. Yes, I know that we have very little space. Yes, I know… I know. Those are all concerns that I also share with you. But, I am so happy to be having another little one join our family, despite the life situation we’re in. One of the most difficult parts of living here, was the feeling that our life had to be put on hold while we waited for good things to happen with Ben’s career. Well, it’s not on hold. Life continues even amid the crazy. And I am so grateful. We’ve always wanted a large family, and we knew we were not done growing it.

Our family of little women is growing! We’ll soon be graduating from the March sisters to the Bennet family! Hooray for little girls!

I wish I could tell you that we have everything figured out. I wish I could show you pictures of a perfectly decorated nursery. Life isn’t always the castle and mansion and fairy tale. But I have found, with children, that everyone always makes room. Blessings come. I have witnessed that miracle time and again. Little ones need very little. What they truly need is love. We can offer that and more. And one day… when our girls are all having families of their own, I hope they remember that there’s always room. There is plenty of love to extend. There is plenty of space to share. There is plenty.