We are happy to announce that we are now planning the home birth of our first rainbow baby. Though it didn’t look like it last April when I was going through a miscarriage, God truly does work things out for the best. Please consider making a donation to our birth fund. Every little bit helps! Thank you so much.
And, the emotional roller coaster continues…
Last week, I yelled at God. I’ve yelled at Him many times before, so, nothing new there. The funny thing is, I had myself convinced for several weeks that I wasn’t mad. I kept telling myself I was fine.
I’m not fine. I’m broken.
This too shall pass?
Someday, maybe. But not anytime soon.
After several weeks of flexing my muscles to all of the people around me, and proving to them just how strong I was, I yelled at God. And you know what He said?
“Good. Glad you got that out. Finally. I was waiting for it. Thanks for sharing that real, honest, intimate moment with Me.”
Several hours later, I resumed flexing those muscles, and I’ve been flexing them for the past week.
Then, this morning, I yelled again.
It has never been an audible yell. It feels more like screaming my heart out on the inside of my head. No one hears it but me.
Well, except God.
I have no one to talk to who is going through this at this very moment. Almost everyone I’ve talked to has been through it. But they’ve gotten past it and gone on to have beautiful children. And they all smile and say, “Everything happens for a reason. You’ll get through this. You’ll be a mom someday.”
And I can’t help but scream inside.
Yes. I know I’ll get through this. I know everything happens for a reason. I know there are plenty of books out there on how to cope with loss. (Can I just say that the last thing I want to do right now is read a freaking book???) I know you’ve been there. I know you understood, at some point in time, what I’m going through, but you can’t possibly understand it right now, because you’re not going through it right now.
I have no one to scream at when I wake up in the morning, take my temperature and realize that it’s been 27 days since the miscarriage started and I’m still not showing signs of ovulation.
I have no one to scream at when I go to the doctor today and they tell me I still have this stupid cyst on my ovary and that it won’t go away unless I let them cut me open and remove it. (Deep down I’m praying for a miracle that prevents that from happening…).
I have no one to scream at when someone busts out a “Dead Babies” card in the middle of a game of Cards Against Humanity when it’s my turn to read the cards out loud, and I have to fake a laugh and move on like nothing is wrong.
I have no one to scream at when I’m frustrated beyond relief and want to do nothing except hide in a private bathroom stall and cry my eyes out. I have no one to scream at who won’t respond to me with the same cliche bull$#!+!
No one. Except God.
And I’m thankful that He hears me, that He listens, and that He always seems to surprise me with His answers.
But seriously, God. Can you please give my body some sense of normalcy again soon?