If you missed yesterday’s posting, the big news is that I have miscarried. It happened early Sunday morning. I woke at 2:30 a.m. to use the bathroom (pregnancy bladder!) and thought I was having gas pains from Saturday night’s chili. Except it wasn’t the chili, it was the baby. 😦
Today I desperately need to be counting my blessings, despite this inexplicably sad turn of events.
I’m thankful that I had no warning. Really. I’ve heard women talk of weeks of knowing that their baby had died and waiting for nature to take its course. I had no clue that anything was wrong until it actually happened.
I’m extremely thankful that my husband was home. He usually is at that time of night. 😉 But we know many families who share Daddy with a job out of town for weeks on end.
I’m tremendously thankful that our midwife came over to help us and support us. She has been our midwife since I was pregnant with our firstborn calf (nearly eight years ago!) and is quite a wonderful woman. (We found out on Sunday that she’s also a member of the “miscarriage sorority,” as she called it. So when she was comforting us, it was from personal experience.)
I’m thankful that The Bull and I both got to hold our baby. (OK, OK, I got to hold the baby more, but . . . that’s just the way it worked out.)
I’m thankful that our three other children were asleep while this was all happening!
I’m thankful that the miscarriage happened completely and quickly (about three hours.)
I’m thankful that our other children got to see and hold their baby brother. At about 16 weeks gestation, he was tiny (about four inches from head to rear end.) Teeny-tiny fingers and toes, ears, arms and legs, nostrils, eyes. Every detail was perfect.
I’m thankful for the many nearby friends and family who have rallied around us by praying and bringing meals and taking the kids for playdates.
I’m also thankful for the many far-away friends and family who have supported us in prayer and phone calls and virtual hugs.
I’m thankful that The Bull’s employer has allowed him some time to be home while I’m recovering and our family is grieving.
I’m thankful for the few photographs I have. The Bull took this one September 24. It was late in the evening and I thought (at the time) that we should just get ready for bed and take photos another time. (I saw this idea on another family’s blog.) I never planned to post these photos on my blog, but I have changed my mind about a lot of things this week.
Speaking of others’ blogs. . . I’m thankful that I’ve stumbled on these wonderful blogs. Their words of wisdom in the midst of their own difficult situations inspires me. Both were pregnant when they got the horrible news that their babes may not live. One of their desires?
“We wanted so strongly for him to be known before he died, that we shared his name on my blog.” (MckMama)
“. . . I want people to meet my sweet Audrey.” (Angie Smith)
I’ve been feeling similar. Well, sort of. Part of me wants to shut myself up an a dark room and take a nap and just pretend that this never happened. (But I know that wouldn’t be a good idea, so I won’t.)
It’s the other part of me wants to tell everyone about my son, to share his name and his incredibly short life. When I initially read these blogs, my heart ached for the women and their families. Now I understand them in a total new and personal way.
We named our son Shelomith, a Hebrew name that is found in the Old Testament. It means peaceful. A few weeks ago, The Bull was reading in the book of Chronicles . . . normally we’ll pick out odd names to scare people who ask what we plan to name the baby (using names like Arphaxad, Haggith, Hazelelponi. . . yeah we have a horrid sense of humor!) Anyway, this name was different. Unusual but not too weird.
And now I wish I had spent less time complaining about how terribly miserable I felt, and more time focusing on the beauty and wonder of growing a new baby. This–the overlooking today’s discomfort for tomorrow’s blessing–is a lesson I have been needing to learn for years. Maybe this time I’ll get it?
I’m really thankful for a verse I memorized a few months prior to my first husband’s death, Romans 8:28: “And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love him, who have been called according to his purpose.” It brought me so much comfort at that time. A few years ago I learned about the verse that follows it, verse 39, “For those God foreknew he also predestined to be conformed to the likeness of his Son, that he might be the firstborn among many brothers.”
So today I’m also thankful for these awesome promises. All the hard things we go through are beneficial to us. God works them to our good. He makes us more like His Son through them. It gives me hope despite the tears.
(This month, Thankful Thursday is being hosted by Lynn. Join her if you want to share your thankful list.)