Held

We were pregnant once. In 2000...almost 12 years ago.  We got pregnant in March, and found out at the beginning of April.  We were happy. And scared. But mostly, happy.  I didn't really know anything about being pregnant or the development of a baby or anything.  I really missed my mom, who died 3 years before this, when I was 17.  But, I was working at a bookstore, so I found some books, and began to learn the things I wanted to know.  I printed out a week-by-week chart of the developing baby from a website.  Although not everyone rejoiced with us (some were shocked that we would have a baby so young...I was only 20, and we had been married only 3 months), but many of our friends and family rejoiced with us.

And then, on Mothers' Day in 2000 (the third one since my mom died, so it felt like it was going to be redeemed by being able to celebrate that I was going to become a mother soon), Sean took me to breakfast, and I realized that I was having some problems.  I called the doctor the next day, and they said that the problem I was having is pretty common and doesn't mean that anything is wrong, but I should rest.  So I rested. And the problem continued, so we went to see the doctor.  We found out that the baby was not developing and there was no heartbeat.  I was sent home to wait for the miscarriage.  The experience was physically traumatic, and I ended up being taking to the hospital in an ambulance and having emergency surgery.

The grief was deep and soul shattering.  My mom died just 3 years before, I was barely through grieving my mom's death, and then I lost our baby...and we were newly married.  I didn't understand.  I couldn't make sense of why God was allowing this to happen.

When my mom died, I turned away from God because I was very angry with Him.  When we lost the baby, however, I decided to see what grief was like when I turned towards God.  He comforted me.  He held me.  He helped me through the pain.
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Last year, as we went through testing and fertility treatment, there were many tears.  As we learned that there was a disease in my uterus, and the only cure is a hysterectomy, I cried.  I cried as my kitten was spayed because I knew that she was losing her ability to have kittens in a surgery similar to the one I knew I'd have one day.  ((Thankfully, she never experienced the loss of fertility as more than a loss of 'friskiness' and weird butt shaking)).

We had five ovarian stimulation cycles with injectible medications, and four of those months we had intrauterine insemination (IUI).  I was elated when we found out that we were getting the injectible meds instead of a pill, since we were part of a study, our treatment was part of a randomization process.  The first month, we started talking about baby names, again...something we'd not done in years.  I had hope and excitement.  And then, the let down.  And tears.

Month after month after month...hope and disappointment.

Before our last cycle, we had a two month break, during which we went on vacation to the beach, attended my brother's wedding, and I went to the second level of the School of Healing Prayer.  I reached out to my support system and asked them to pray.  I kept a Caring Bridge site with updates and specific prayer requests.  And still, the disappointment came.  With the tears.

And the questions, asking God, "Why would you give us this opportunity to receive treatment after so many years, just to let it fail?"...Why?

And yet, he comforted me.  He allowed me to question Him.  He gave Sean the strength to be His comfort in person.  Sean held me; God held me.  He helped me through the pain.
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The morning of my surgery, as I was being wheeled into the operating room, I saw my doctor for the first time that day.  And I started crying.  She held my hand and wiped my tears away.  She told the anesthesiologist, "This is a hard decision for her," and the anesthesiologist stroked my cheek to comfort me.

I was not scared...I completely trust my doctor. And when she held my hand, I was comforted. I was held.
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Why? I don't understand this journey. I don't understand why we got pregnant once and never again. I don't understand why I have to be a motherless daughter and a childless mother.  I don't understand why we got the opportunity to get free treatment, after 11 years of infertility, and yet God did not create life in my womb.  I don't understand how my womb became so diseased and would not support life.  I don't know why I have to experience suffering after suffering.

But, I do know that I was never promised that I would not suffer.  I was never promised that things would turn out okay.  Natalie Grant sings a song called, "Held," and the key line is this:  "...This is what it is to be loved  And to know, that the promise was--when everything fell, we'd be held."