The sound I want to remember forever, as well as forget is the sound of my baby’s heartbeat. It had been along tumultuous journey to that ultrasound. It had been a year of taking temperatures, being stuck by needles, and hormones raging from medications. My husband and I had been dealing with infertility. This year was filled with tears and hope, sometimes all in one day. The doctor finally gave me the magic pill that was supposed to give us a baby, and it did, it gave us three. Unfortunately none of them would make it home to be with us.
The first two pregnancies had ended just as they started, but the last one was different. Those two pink lines were getting darker and we were filled with hope, until I got my blood work done. My numbers were not increasing as they should, which meant that the baby may not be developing as they should. We were forced to sit and wait until I was far enough along to get a heartbeat. The time finally came and we could see it flickering on the ultrasound screen and my husband’s eyes filled with tears. It was finally happening.
Or so we thought. The baby had a heartbeat, but it was weak, and it was measuring smaller than it should so once again we had to play the waiting game. We were on pins and needles all week and I took comfort in knowing that I still felt very pregnant. We went in a week later and for what seemed like an eternity the ultrasound tech tried to find a heartbeat, and there was none. Time stood still for what seemed like days. I was given options and I went into surgery to have my baby removed from my womb.
Surprisingly I seemed to be ok, I was filled with hope for the future and I just wanted to get back on the saddle and try again, only this time there was not another pregnancy and no one could explain why. I had spent hours and hours online reading stories of miracle babies, but I couldn’t help but think that it would never be me. It could never be my story because God left me.
I was alone.
I felt ashamed to talk about my fertility issues and my miscarriages because I didn’t want the sympathy. I didn’t want to hear, “All in Gods timing.” I didn’t want to hear any of it. I felt numb for almost a year and a half and I left God. I was angry, I was so angry, and for that I felt ashamed. Ashamed is not a good place to be after a loss, but there i was.
I honestly can’t tell you exactly what triggered it, but about a year after our loss it finally hit us. Our baby died. Our baby was alive, with a heartbeat, and then it died. Inside of my womb was life, and death. In the darkest pit of my grief I cried out to God and asked where he has been. I had this overwhelming feeling that he was there with me and he wanted me to lean into him. I felt as though I had nothing left to lose so I dived into the word. In that I found an overwhelming sense of peace. I told God I was willing to give it all to him and accept what he had for my life and not what my plan was. I did however ask that he could tell me if I should give up on this dream that I had so I could stop hurting for it.
I went about my day and didn’t give that prayer much more thought until I was scrolling through my instagram feed. A quote popped up that said “Its closer than you think.” I went on to read the caption and it was all about having faith even when it seems like what you had been praying for is taking a really long time. Things are often darkest before the dawn. I could not believe what I was reading; it was as if God had written this just for me. I had tears running down my face as I was reading and then I came to this quote, “And just like a new mother forgets about her labor pain when she is finally holding her newborn, you’ll forget about your struggle when you are holding your promise.”
My arms have been empty and yearning and grieving for what seems like an eternity. Although its sometimes easier said than done, I will hold onto Gods promise and I will lean into him. While this has been one of the hardest times of my life I am in awe of the comfort that the Lord has provided.