Baby steps

It's been a while since I posted about our baby. Part of that was deliberate, and part was the result of life still going on and me still being in it. It's been two and a half months since I miscarried. A few weeks have gone by since the last time I felt like everything was falling apart ... a few hours have gone by since the last time I cried over his little life. I know that my heart is on the mend, one baby step at a time. I also am coming to realise that a little piece of a mother's heart becomes attached to each child that she conceives, and when that child is gone the part of her heart that's left behind will always hurt a little. And the part of my heart that is with my baby boy is singing and dancing with him.

"Sing, O barren woman,
you who never bore a child;
burst into song, shout for joy,
you who were never in labor"

This is the verse that was spoken prophetically in church today. I felt that today I had to make a choice. One of my good friends is almost 20 weeks pregnant - about a week off of what I would have been right now. Mark and I have been close to this couple for years, and since miscarrying I have NOT been able to deal well with seeing her. After much soul-searching, I have decided that this is not borne out of bitterness. My struggle is that every time I see her, she represents a joy that that I will never know. She reminds me of my grief. Of the 'should have beens'. And I know that this will not be 'fixed' by getting pregnant again - the joy that I've lost was for this baby. Having Anna, I know what I am missing out on! And that is what my dear, sweet friend represented to me. Lost joy.

At church, I felt that this was the day that God wanted to break that. I think part of that was up to Him ... but He also showed me that a lot of the ache I felt whenever I was reminded of my loss was something I was holding onto, and could choose to relinquish. Paradoxically, it is easier for me to fall back into grief and pain than to be joyful in this situation (why would I choose to hold onto something that is hurting me...?). But God is calling me to sing, to burst into song and to shout for joy - in spite of missing a little piece of my heart.

I cried through worship today, I cried through communion, and I cried as I found my friend and hugged her. But I am choosing to relinquish my hold on the ache.


(And, as a sidenote, I am remembering that this baby of mine is not lost! What an inaccurate and hope-less expression we have developed as a euphemism for miscarriage. I didn't 'lose' my child - I know exactly where he is, and that he is safe and exuberantly happy!)