"Trying" again

When we got married I thought that raising our children would be the hardest thing we would do. I imagined many mouths to feed, little money, and a small apartment. We've been married almost 5 years and if I've learned anything it's that the raising part seems to be easy so far. We have a house that still feels too empty, plenty of food, and money left over each month for savings. The hardest thing I've ever done is not raising my children, it's trying to have children.

I have at least a dozen posts started in an effort to talk about what it feels like to try for your second rainbow baby. None of them are good so I've just kept quiet. But after another month of learning we are not pregnant I'm feeling the need to write. It's been 6 months of trying,which by itself is not a long time. But the thing that is the hardest, and something I was not expecting, is that this time around it's like things are getting piled up on that innocent 6 months. Like the 12 months it took to conceive Caleb. Or the one dead baby that happened along the way. It's another terrible math game that my head does before I can tell it to stop.

Trying again has shown me that the disappointment from the past keeps coming up each month and attaching itself to the current disappointment of that month's non-pregnancy status. And its draining me. Each month I'm faced with the questions of my heart toward God and His plan and His will. It's tiring and this is why I was hesitant to even get back into "trying" again.

There is also more guilt this time around that comes with the disappointment. Because I have a living child. I do! And she is the best thing and she is ENOUGH. So why do I want more? Why can't I be happy with just her? I'm let down each month and then have guilt for feeling let down.

Trying to have children is the hardest thing I have ever done. And let's be real for a moment and just admit that the "getting pregnant" part is not supposed to be the hard part for us. The hard part for us is supposed to be keeping the baby alive! I just feel like it's an uphill battle with no end in sight. That's why its hard, that's why it's sanctifying and I'm sure that's one reason God is allowing this to happen. Sometimes though I'm tired of being tried. Tired of being put to the "test" in order to have the "testimony."

But after all of those sad and despairing thoughts come and go, there are also other emotions that rise to the surface. If all the past disappointments are getting piled onto current ones, then I will also say that the same is true for my trust and faith in God. Because each month that we are not pregnant and the enemy whispers all his lies,

"God isn't here, He wasn't there when Caleb died. God doesn't care about the desires of your heart. God will not show up."

Each month as those lies are whispered, I also feel the trust and faith I have in God rising to the surface. Because those are just lies and I know it. God was with me when Caleb died. He walked with me, cried with me, carried me. God's plan has been perfect in its timing and I can say that He does know what He is doing because it's through God that I was brought back to the land of the living.

I'm not sure if this current time of trying to get pregnant will turn into another longer trial, but I do know that it is showing me just how much I have grown in my walk with God since I started trying to have kids. Yes, there are old doubts and old wounds that will always be there. But I'm also experiencing faith and trust that only comes with looking back on past trials. It's easier to laugh at the enemy when those lies come because I know they are lies-my life is a witness that God has been good and He does stay close to the brokenhearted.

"And I believe I shall see your goodness Lord, in the land of the Living!" Psalm 27:13

Trauma and Grief

Another great post from Brooke about the trauma associated with grief:

"Sometimes it seems like a dream and I can't believe it was ME, that it really happened, that it was MY LIFE. And sometimes those memories are so vivid that they take my breath away and I can't believe that I ever kept going, that there was ever anything else."

The Grief and the Trauma

It doesn't matter

"It doesn't matter." Something I've been saying for about the last week and a half leading up to our retreat tomorrow night. I say it about everything- the laundry, the food, the messy house, the broken garage door. We have been doing this ministry long enough now to know that the month of a retreat is kind of a loss for things in our personal life. We give ourselves permission to let things slide because we know the grief that comes with tending to other people's grief.

Today as I was reflecting on whether or not that is the right thing to do-to let things go- and I felt God asking me to see it as a gift. When Caleb died everything stopped and nothing mattered. His death put everything into perspective and made me see what was really important-Heaven, Christ, Eternity and getting there so I could be with him. Doing this ministry and leading these retreats brings all that to the front again-nothing matters except Heaven, Christ, Eternity.

Tomorrow night I will minister to women who are broken, some of them fresh and raw with grief. And many of them will wish like I did in those early days that their only problems right now were dinner each night, laundry, a messy house or a broken garage door. But instead they will be in the pit of grief and well when you are there nothing matters.

Thank you Jesus for letting me know and for bringing me back to the fact that nothing matters-nothing but Heaven, You, and Eternity.

Please pray for us tomorrow night that the Holy Spirit would come and bring the healing power that is promised!

One week from today!

Please pass this on to anyone who is interested and lives in central Illinois. The retreat is open to all faith backgrounds.

New Envy

Thought this was a great article and something I'm still struggling with almost 3 years out from our loss:

When a New Envy Rises

Joy and Sorrow

In one week's time I've followed/heard about/seen pictures of the arrival of two very precious, healthy rainbow babies, been to one baby shower, and heard about/prayed for two families who lost their babies this week. Talk about emotional roller coaster! And in the quiet times that I've had, I keep coming back to the same question, "how?" How can joy and sorrow co-exist in this world? How can one family be having their happily ever after while another just begins their worst nightmare? How, How, How? The answer is -I don't know. But I'm sure that even if I had an answer it would not help me understand any better. The truth is that joy and sorrow do co-exist. Since losing Caleb I have had felt a strong calling to do ministry in the pregnancy loss vineyard. While that is something I'm pursuing, I also have a lot of joy in my life and of those around me. At last Sunday's baby shower I spent two hours "ooooing and ahhing" over the little clothes, blankets, and shoes. Then I went home and spent time writing my meditation for our upcoming retreat-on the darkness of loss and living life without your baby. Throughout it all I keep asking God "Give me the strength to do this-to keep my heart open to joy and sorrow." Because the temptation is to lean too heavy on one end of the spectrum-become a hermit and immerse myself in the baby loss community and get stuck there. Or to turn my back when I hear of tragedies and just act like life is fine and that sorrows don't really happen. But the middle road, one that embraces both the joy and sorrow is so tricky and requires strength I never thought I would need. As we approach these final two weeks until the retreat I'm going to continue to walk in the darkness of loss and it's aftermath. But there is still joy and rejecting that would be rejecting the resurrection. Father, give me strength for both, for joy and sorrow and in the meantime, a stiff drink to go along with it!

Night of Healing

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