#battlingfear

When I was pregnant with my Lera, I was the most fearful I have ever been in my life.  In my first trimester, I was scared about the possibility of miscarrying.  I had very mild spotting a few times, but it was still enough to make me fearful.

After my 12 week ultrasound, our first hint of real trouble, my fear increased even more.  They told me that when there are genetic abnormalities (we still weren’t positive that there was any, but the risk was still higher) that there was still a higher chance that my body could reject the baby.

Then, when the absolute worst news came to us, when I was 18 weeks, I wasn’t just scared.  I was terrified.

This is what went through my brain in an instant:

What a dwarfism mutation “lightning strike” could mean for our family.  

As ridiculous of a worry it was at the time, I was afraid that my beautiful sweet pea would be picked on as she grew up.  

I was worried what our finances would look like while supporting a child who would require serious help throughout her life, including how she would function in our very tall home, and how much those changes would cost.

I was worried about how the above would affect my marriage.

The truth was, these were all best case scenarios that were whizzing through my brain.  What we were really being told there was a very, very good possibility that our little one was not viable for life outside the womb.  So, on top of all of my other worries, I was petrified that we were going to lose our baby.  The baby we had prayed for, already fought for, and desperately wanted.

We loved her unconditionally already, and at that moment, my mother’s heart raged, and all I wanted to do was lift up my baby, cradle her in my arms, hold her close to pour all of my love onto her.  To tell her exactly how loved she was, and how desperately we wanted her.  I wanted to protect her from everything the doctor was telling us, but was left with empty arms and no answers.  

I wept and started pleading to the Lord, “Please don’t let my baby die.” I was desperate. Before then, I had thought I knew what desperation was but, in actuality, I had never experienced true desperation until that moment. The response I got back from Jesus was a simple whisper.  “Trust me.”

As all of this was going through my mind and heart, I looked up at my amazing husband, with tears streaming down my face, and asked him  “Is everything going to be OK? At the end of the day, when this journey is over, is everything, our lives, marriage, faith, going to be OK?”

I will always remember what he told me.  He said, “Yes, no matter what, everything will be OK.  But, first, it will be really, really hard.”  He was 100% right.  

It was also around that 18 week meeting that I began to feel her sweet movements regularly. This added an extra layer of anxiety on me.  I became fearful any time I couldn’t feel her; scared that I had lost her. Yet, when I could feel her, it only added to my anguish. 

As I think many women will tell you, when you start feeling your baby move, its special. I was falling more in love with each swish and kick, but in anguish that there was a very good chance that I wouldn’t be able to keep her. I started to pray for God to heal her, to have mercy, not on her, but on me, to let me keep my baby.

As things progressed I became fearful of what her delivery would look like.  It was a dreaded day for a long time.  I just wanted her to stay where she was safe.  With me. I wanted to do everything in my power to protect her. When my Obstetrician wanted to start talking about our birth plan, I even asked her “Can’t she just stay where she is?”, and she, of course, said “No, she really can’t”.  

I was afraid of what would happen.  If I had a natural delivery, would she make it through the trauma of the birth canal?  If I had a cesarian, would I be able to hear her gasp for breath, and literally listen to her die?  Would she be in pain? Is there something we could do so she didn’t have pain?  What if I had an emergency cesarian, would I be knocked out?  Would I miss her entire life?

In addition to these thoughts that were invading my brain, I had constant nightmares at night.  For about two weeks, we were restless.  I would wake constantly in fear, either crying, or just generally terrified of what was to come. I would wake my husband asking for him to pray for me and calm me so I could fall back to sleep.  It was a long two weeks.

Whether it was spoken or not, I don’t remember, we made a decision.  To cling to the Lord as we clung to each other.  We would communicate, and tell each other everything.  No holding back.  It didn’t matter if a thought we had was awful, morbid, or dumb, we would tell the other person.  Whatever ran through our heads, if it was big enough that we couldn’t shake it, or if it was rousing more fear, stress, or anxiety in our already crazy situation we would speak it out, help each other rationalize, pray fervently, and call those thoughts out as what they were.  Lies.   

Constantly the enemy was trying to break us.  We were restless and exhausted, but continued to pray.  My husband spent time fasting in prayer, begging God to change our situation.  We prayed together every night.  When I would wake up with another nightmare, I would tell my husband what my fear was, and then we would ask God to change my fear to hope, and my sadness to joy.  He was my sense talker.  I would tell him of what I was afraid of, no matter how ridiculous, and he would calm my fear.  Then for good measure, we would ask God to change my thoughts to His thoughts.   

This is how we fought, together, always.  

I believe that this is one of the main things that we did that truly saved our marriage in the midst of crisis.  It wasn’t in trouble before, but when stress like this, especially when a child is involved can take a terrible toll on a marriage. So, we took a page from Ecclesiastes 4 9-12 

“Two are better than one, because they have good pay for their work.  For if one of them falls, the other can help him up. But it is hard for the one who falls when there is no one to lift him up.  And if two lie down together, they keep warm. But how can one be warm alone? One man is able to have power over him who is alone, but two can stand against him. It is not easy to break a rope made of three strings.”  

We gave up what we could, and what we could not control.  The entire situation we gave to the Lord, we surrendered completely to him.  In that place, we found supernatural peace. We gathered more prayer warriors around us, and put our trust in Him. The nightmares vanished. My thoughts changed. He gave us rest.  

Matthew 11:28-30 became true to us “Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy and my burden is light.”  He carried our burden, and gave us hope and joy.

With each ultrasound that revealed more complications, with each tear, and each hard decision, Jesus was there. He carried our load, assured us, and gave us hope. 

When time ran out in my pregnancy, and I was going into preterm labour, I was extremely anxious and fearful.  The Lord was with me in the Hospital.  We listened to worship music constantly, and continued to pray through my contractions. Where I began to feel guilt of needing to have an early cesarean, we prayed for strength.  I think that it was a great mercy that I went into spontaneous labour two days early. Everything was taken out of my control; which was, surprisingly reassuring. As hard as everything was, this gave assurance that the decisions we were able make were the right ones. We now walk without guilt, or regret. Jesus knew what I needed.  Now, I have joy over the time we had with our daughter, I treasure her memory, and I’m proud to be her Mommy.  

I think one of the scariest things we can do, is surrender everything to the Lord. Nothing is more fear inducing than giving up our control.  Over the experience I had with my daughter, and even a little after, God had done a stripping in my life.  Stripping of everything I was keeping a firm hold on. I find that when we go through a time where everything is out of control, we grip tighter on what we can keep in our control.  That is what I was doing.  It was like being suspended in air, clinging onto a ledge.  Rocks were falling all around me, and what I was clinging to wasn’t what would hold me forever, but it felt like that was all I had. As scary as it was, I had reach up to the hand that was waiting to lift me up. It was staring me in the face, for so long, but I was used to hanging off the ledge. My muscles were used to being in that position, and it was painful to move, but once I did, it was freeing. Now I can look at the view the Lord has given me, and it looks good.