At the age of 40 I became a mom for the first time. Some of you read pieces of my pregnancy journey. At that time, I set a personal challenge to write about it once a week and kept to it for the most part…shy of a few months.
My little girl was born in March of 2020, eleven days before Covid shut down the world. Eleven days before we shut our doors to family and friends, making the first few months of motherhood extremely lonely. And time since then, living in this ‘new norm’ as a new mom, has been challenging for all the reasons that new parenthood brings, with all the added elements of Covid.
Every cloud, though, has a silver lining. If you’re willing to look for it.
I remember when I was pregnant, I longed even secretly prayed to be a stay-at-home mom. Say what you will about stay at home moms, or what society says (but, seriously, who the hell even cares anymore about what society says?!), they have THE most important, challenging, heroic, self-sacrificing, jobs on this planet. They are on-call full time, educators, nurses, therapists, cooks, house cleaners, financial advisors, door-dashers, best friends…real-life superhero shit! And the lack of honor and respect that this society gives them makes me want to…spit! Not at anyone in particular because, well, that’s just disgusting, gross and mean. But, you feel me. Or maybe you don’t.
When Covid hit in March of 2020, I got my wish. I became a stay-at- home for the first 6 months anyway, of my daughter’s life. Now, I’m not saying God created Covid to answer my selfish prayer. But what I am saying, and what I do believe to be true, all joking aside, is that sometimes God takes what was created as evil and for evil and has a way of making it good. Here me out on this though, because I know how devastating Covid has been for many, even to the point of death. And that’s why I need to repeat that again, mostly for myself, but maybe also for someone else who is reading this.
In life, God takes what was created for evil and makes it good. That doesn’t mean we always feel good, or even see it as good …at the time. But, one thing is never changing, one thing can always be counted on…His goodness for me and towards me. Even if I don’t feel it or see it.
A few months ago my husband and I decided to start trying for baby number two. It took a little convincing on my part to get Aj on board, but nothing a few beers and a week in the Cape can’t help with!
What I thought would take months of trying, given my ‘advanced maternal age’ of 41 (thanks a lot webmd)…well, took no time at all. My husband credits his Herculean sperm, and I let him believe so…because, well, it’s good for the male ego to be stroked from time to time.
We couldn’t have timed this pregnancy anymore perfectly. With the due date set at the beginning of May, and my maternity leave running into my summer break, I once again nailed my dream job of being a stay-at-home mom, well, for a least 4 months.
Last Monday we lost our baby to a miscarriage. I knew it before I even set foot in the doctor’s office. I certainly knew it as I watched the sonographer capture imaging of my insides. And I was already in tears when the doctor came in to officially announce the loss of our baby. At the time I understood that this is part of pregnancy and part of womanhood. These things happen and we have no control over them. On the other hand, I was broken up.
Although the doctor assured me that I no longer had a viable pregnancy and it was most likely only a miscarriage I was dealing with, they also couldn’t yet rule out an ectopic pregnancy, which poses life threatening risk to the mother as the baby grows outside the uterus unable to sustain life and needing to be aborted to keep the mother from hemorrhaging. It was a lot to process at the time.
No one really prepared me for what this was going to mean moving forward, both mentally and physically. I spent the entire week in and out of the doctor’s office with multiple tests and ultrasounds. I also spent the rest of the week trying to remain productive and sharp at work during the day, while present and engaged with my daughter at home in the evenings. While in the midst of it all bleeding, clotting and cramping, which seemed to only get worse instead of better as the week moved on. I tried to find time to allow a space for myself to feel my grief while also confusingly feeling guilty for feeling anything at all for something I hadn’t even yet held in my arms.
My sister-in-law who happens to the best in her field…a stay-at-home mom… texted me one day this past week, as she too has dealt with miscarriage. She texted me something I will always hold dear and never forget. She said, “It’s so hard to lose a little one. No matter how small.” She nailed it. That’s exactly how I am feeling.
Yesterday I had yet another doctor’s appointment, with wonky numbers from my blood work, questionable imaging on my ultrasound and an unusual amount of bleeding and clotting, they quickly referred me to the emergency room for a surgical procedure. Once again, thanks to the world we live in with Covid I couldn’t have anyone with me while I waited for surgery, during surgery, or even after surgery.
As I sat there alone, just wanting this week to be over I couldn’t help but feel discouraged and disheartened by what was happening in front of me. The emergency room was full to capacity. They didn’t even have enough beds or rooms for people to be seen. Many who were there had mental health problems. Several were drunk, others were detoxing. Infants were brought in crying with unknown conditions. One drunk man was escorted out by three security officers for being disorderly. Another drunk man fell over and hit his head so hard that blood pooled everywhere. The man sitting in front of me was having clear signs of a heart attack. I heard him tell the nurses several times that he wasn’t doing well, as I picked up his admittance paperwork and phone off the floor that kept falling from his weak hands. They nonchalantly waved at him and mumbled ‘soon sir, soon’ as they hurried by. Several men and women had already been seen, tested, and paid for their services; yet, five hours later were still waiting to be released by a doctor. They felt like prisoners.
Often throughout the evening and as I prepped for my own surgery I found myself calling out to God. For the man in front of me who wasn’t being seen but who was clearly suffering. The young woman who was having a panic attack in the section next to me. The mother with a crying infant who was scared and didn’t know what was wrong with her baby. The girl who was detoxing while yelling and crying at her boyfriend on the phone. And myself because I felt incredibly sad over my loss.
His name was on my lips…Jesus. For my pain as well as theirs.
I sat there alone, feeling alone. Feeling the loneliness of many of these people. And a verse came to me that found me many years ago in my own dark and lonely place: Psalm 139:12 “even the darkness is not dark to you; the night is bright as the day, for darkness is as light with you.’
And it was there that I saw my silver lining in all that has taken place this week. It will sound cliche to many of you. But, sometimes the truth isn’t as complicated as we think. We just have to be humble enough to accept it. You see, this world is broken and it doesn’t take a person of faith to recognize the pain, suffering and brokenness in it. It manifests itself everywhere in disease, sickness, addiction, relational breakdown, mental breakdown, bodily breakdown, shame, guilt, loss, death, you name it.
But what is intended for evil, God intends for good. That doesn’t necessarily mean he takes the illness away, restores the relationship, alleviates the addiction or raises the dead. Although, sometimes he literally does just that. What it means, mostly though, is He is the goodness in it all. He is the light in the midst of darkness. He holds us, sits with us, comforts us when no else can in a way that no one else can. You see, our suffering is never too much for him, he never gets impatient with it or with us. And, although he never promises in this life to relieve us of the pain and suffering of this world, what He does promise us is a place of refuge and peace when the storms of life come crashing down. We may still get wet but we won’t be washed away and destroyed.
When I say, in this life what is meant for evil, God intends for good… What I am referring to is…all of those things that break our hearts, crush our souls, and damage our minds. I’m talking about broken dreams, broken marriages, broken families, broken bodies, death, disease, mental illness …you name it. All of those things God intends for good. How? How can that even be possible? They allow us to call on Him, they give us an opportunity to see Him for who he really is….our Rescuer, our Father in Heaven, our Suffering Savior, the great Creator, the one who was here at the beginning of time and the one who will be here at the end of it all. He never changes, he can be counted on because He is always the same. His love is real, trustworthy, never ending, there are no limits to it no matter how much or how often I push His limits. This week has reminded me of all of this. What was intended for evil this week, to break my spirit, my body, my faith, my mind… God has used it for good. In this one reminder:
He is good and I am loved by Him. No matter what.