It seems a little strange… writing my first blog post when so much has happened already, and I’m hopeful that there will be so much yet to come. I’m starting in the middle. You see, last fall my husband, Joe, and I were blessed with a pregnancy. A baby was something I wanted for longer than I could remember. I mean, I was ready on the night of the honeymoon! Joe on the other hand… thought we should wait at bit. (He was probably right in hindsight… we had some growing up to do even at 25). I think I always wanted to be a “mommy.” My day job as a speech pathologist in an early childhood setting was sufficient for the time being as it placed me in a classroom setting with three and four year old students who (by the end of the year) felt like my own. So much so that I would often pray for each of them at night before bed, even ones that had previously “graduated” out of my classroom.
But back to “the middle,” or perhaps just a little before. Unfortunately for us, that pregnancy ended in miscarriage. Without going too deep into detail, it is assumed this loss was due to medication. You see, we had already started our infertility journey at that time. I had taken fertility drugs prescribed by my OB (Femara for those who care) and then after taking this drug for two days, found I was already pregnant. That “period” I had a couple of weeks back…. was implantation bleeding. PSA: ALWAYS GET A BLOOD PREGNANCY TEST BEFORE STARTING ANY FERTILITY MEDICATION! We lost “Turbo” at 10w6d. D&C… all of that… not fun.
More on that another time.
After many medicated cycles of Clomid or Femara with different doses of each, we were still not pregnant…. again. I went to a fertility clinic. It felt like defeat. I mean, I was already pregnant… and NATURALLY… so why am I not getting pregnant now? Are we really going to spend this kind of money on something we may not really need? I did all the tests required, and so did Joe. We figured we would keep trying for a few months on our own… we wouldn’t need this, right? Wrong.
Enough history for now. Let’s start in the middle. Where I am right now. Today I am 5dpiui (five days post intrauterine insemination). This is our second IUI (clearly the first one didn’t work!) While I could write about the emotions and feelings of waiting, and “being in the middle,” I feel prompted to talk about what happened today in church.
I would consider myself a person of strong faith. (LCMS Lutheran to be exact. Can I get a whoop whoop?!) But even so, the miscarriage last fall hit me in a way nothing in my life ever had. Depression. Anxiety. Anger. Jealousy. Avoidance. Crying (LOTS of crying). Fear. Questioning. (Doesn’t sound like I was very pleasant to be around, huh? I wasn’t.) But, I never questioned my faith. Through it all, I still knew God was there. And I wanted Him to know I was angry with Him. Very angry. Here we are, a married couple. A Christian, married couple. A Christian, married, couple with great jobs, minimal debt, strong family support… why did this happen to us?
Both yesterday and today the youth choir I help to lead sang several selections in church. Yesterday was great. The kids did so well, I could think of nothing more than how thankful I was to God for allowing such talented, all-around-great kids into my life. It didn’t hit me until just this morning that in the Sunday service we were leading… there was a baptism.
No big deal, right? Wrong.
There had been many baptisms since our miscarriage last fall. The first time it happened, I got up right before the Sacrament of Baptism and left the church to sit outside until it heard the organ, cueing me it was done. How could I sit there and watch someone else’s baby be baptized without falling to pieces? Luckily for me, my church posts these events on the calendar so I could avoid going to church services that included baptisms whenever I needed to. Well, not the case today.
Today I was smack dab “in the middle” (see what I did there?!) of a church service containing a baptism. My youth kids had to sing a song right before and immediately after. I was literally stuck “in the middle.”
My mind was racing. What should I do? Would I break down? Could I keep it together? Somehow my mind settled on a line from one of my favorite hymns, “Great is Thy Faithfulness.” In particular, the line in that hymn that states, “…strength for today and bright hope for tomorrow…” I repeated it over and over in my head.
I did not cry.
God gave me strength for today. And I have faith that there is bright hope for tomorrow.
I still get angry with God from time to time. I still have feelings like the ones I have listed above. Thankfully, they are much fewer and far between. But I pray each morning simply, “Give me this day, my daily bread.” I guess that means, “Strength for today.” I’ll trust in God that my future will hold a BRIGHT hope for tomorrow.