A Birth Story: For the Miscarried Child and the Mother She Left Behind
|Smashed Nose, Smashed Ear Profile|
|"Ezraela Eaven" "12-31-2014" "I am yours, you are mine"|
|My Olympic Duathlon Participation Medal and Baby Footprints (Given to Me by My Sister in Law)|
Friday evening I received word that a friend, who was due 2 weeks ahead of Ezraela, had delivered a baby boy. Almost instantaneously I received an e-mail from another close friend that she had been pregnant and lost the baby. Immediately my heart plunged into a state of despondency. I knew that it would be difficult for me once my friends who were pregnant around Ezraela's due date had their babies. I had even spoken to this particular mother several times about it (and am very thankful that she made those times with her a "safe place" where I could opening discuss my feelings without any judgement from her). I was so happy that both she and the baby were safe, but I couldn't push away the feeling that I wished that both me and my baby were safe as well. What I was not prepared for was the news from the second friend. I knew they were trying to get pregnant and how excited both she and her husband were. I hated that she had to go through what I went through. It just didn't seem fair. I prayed that God would bring healing to her, just as I prayed that he would heal me.
Time and time again I have wondered why this happened to me. Why did I have to lose a child? What was the purpose of it? I don't think I will ever come to "accept" it. I don't think I will ever come to "rejoice" in it. How could one rejoice in losing their own flesh and blood? However, if there is one thing I am bound and determined to do, it is to make Ezraela's death mean something. To make my pain and my suffering mean something. And if as a result my pain will help someone else, I will rejoice in that.
This past week I have been speaking with the pastor of our church about starting a support group for people who have experienced a miscarriage. Personally, I've had a great circle of friends who have supported me through the ebb and flow of my grief, however, I have realized not everyone has that. Not everyone has a safe place to be transparent and speak what is really on their heart in regards to losing a child. Not everyone has a place where they don't think it is taboo to tell someone, "I've had a miscarriage and it sucks." I think everyone should have a place like that. I think everyone needs a place like that. But I have heard from too many people that there aren't very many places like that out there that exist. My goal is to change that.
So, on the day of Ezraela's due date, with tears in my eyes, I have hope. I have hope that my loss might be someone else's gain. That my pain might be someone else's healing. That my sadness might be someone else's peace. And that in that, I might find peace and rest as well.
You never get over losing a child, it just gets a little bit easier with every step that you take. It is my hope that we can take the steps of that journey together.
|Alexandria and I at the Newport Aquarium|