#imbracingjoy

Since discovering I was pregnant last May, I have been surrounded with other pregnant women. Literally surrounded.  When I first found out I was pregnant, I knew about four other pregnancies, other than my own. By the time I delivered, that number had grown to fifteen. FIFTEEN!  There was a baby train moving through town and I was hanging off of it.

Now, please understand me correctly, I was (and am) over the moon excited for my friends. In fact, for a couple of my closest friends, I was at the hospital for their delivery, along with their families, to be one of the first to see these beautiful little, strapping  little boys. Partially because I couldn’t wait to meet them, but mainly because I wanted needed to see and hold these beautiful miracles to know, without a shadow of a doubt, that they were OK. I felt protective of them and of my friends. I didn’t want anyone else I knew to go through what I just did.

But to say that I was fine while everyone around me had perfectly healthy pregnancies, would be a lie.  In September, when we got the worst news possible, the first thing I did was go off of Facebook.  it was just too hard to look at so many growing bellies, knowing that at the end of their 40 weeks they would have a healthy baby. Meanwhile not knowing if I would even be able to see my daughter alive at all.  

So I deleted Facebook and Instagram from my phone for a season; so I wouldn’t have to be tempted by those annoying red notification badges. I also knew it would also force me to turn to God, instead of comparing myself to everyone else.  

Truthfully, I was angry.  I was angry that everyone else got to have healthy pregnancies, I was angry at the little girls I saw everywhere, and their beautiful Mama’s.  I hated going to the mall because there were strollers and pregnant women everywhere.  So I gave myself a little relief by leaving social media behind.

Was I actually angry at my friends?  No. I was incredibly joyful for them.  I was just upset that I couldn’t have it too.  Jealousy raged. I saw shades of green in me that I had no idea lived there, and I hated it.  I hated who I was becoming, so I turned to the only person who could help me.  I would open my Bible whenever I felt like checking Facebook.  I would read Psalms when I felt the most hopeless.  Jesus met me in my darkest hours. “He will cover you with his feathers.  He will shelter you with his wings.  His faithful promises are your armour and protection”, Psalm 91:4.  

Now I didn’t say the above to make anyone feel bad, or to try to guilt those amazing Mama’s that had beautiful healthy babies.  If anything it was perfectly normal for me to feel those things, because what I went through was not fair. Not one second of what I went through with my Lera was fair. Nor is it fair for anyone who had/is suffering as I did. If you have been through baby loss, stillbirth, miscarriage, loss of a spouse, parent, sibling, or even severe illness, or cancer treatments, what you are going through isn’t fair. and it is OK to be angry, upset, or even jealous; and to cry over what is going on.   It’s just important that it doesn’t devour you whole.

John 10:10 says that “the thief’s purpose is to steal, kill and destroy”, I’ve heard it said that to “destroy” is to render useless.  I realized that during this time of anger, restlessness, and fear that I was being rendered useless.  I was so angry, all of the time, and I knew that wasn't what God wanted for me.  So I started fighting it.  I wouldn’t say I became joyful because of my situation, but I found joy despite it.  Over the course of a few short months, God did a miracle in my heart, and started to breath life into it.  

“Is anyone crying for help? God is listening, ready to rescue you.  If your heart is broken, you’ll find God right there, if you’re kicked in the gut, he’ll help you catch your breath” Psalm 34:17-18 (The Message)

My suggestion to anyone who knows someone who is going through immense emotional pain and grief due to a devastating loss, someone that you look at and think, “its just not fair”, is to do your best to be there beside them and help carry them through their pain.  Not physically, but emotionally.

I am so thankful for each friend I have that didn’t run away because of my situation.  Most of my pregnant friends showed so much kindness towards me. Always asking how I am, and not letting me get away with a “fluff” answer (i.e. “fine”, “ok”, or “alright”), but genuinely taking the time to check on me.  To hear me out, and to love me.  

To those who sent messages just reminding me that you were praying for me/my family.  To those who stood with me, even when it was difficult to, THANK YOU.  You are all my miracles, more precious to me than I can adequately put into words.  

Be that person to someone.  Let them weep in front of you and be broken. Let the pain roll out of them, and show them grace and love.  Remind them of the Lord’s promises, be patient and pray fervently.  Then watch as joy begins to creep back in, and God begins to transform their situation from one of fear and pain, to one filled of hope.

After my Lera went to her heavenly home, I was thankful to have so many babies around me. Not only did it squash my fear that I would become a weepy mess holding one; or, worse yet, possibly stealing one; but having those little miracles around me has been such a blessing, when my empty arms ache a little too much, I am able to be fill them with a child I love. I still do this.

If you are going through the un-imaginable, don’t let fear get in the way of you doing what you enjoy. 

I love babies. I’ve always loved babies. Just because mine isn’t here with me doesn’t mean that I can’t still love babies, or that I can’t have fun holding, snuggling and playing with my friends babies. Those little stress relievers have given me SO much joy.