He's Still the Same

Your laws are always right; help me to understand them so I may live.

Psalm 119:144

Due to my absence (unless you count straight photo posts that were scheduled) from our blog last week, I thought it might be therapeutic to let you all in on what's been going on in our life.

There are some words/phrases that I've always found distasteful. They include things like: cancer (of all kinds), elimination of one's employment position, child abuse, cruelty to animals, lack of freedom of religion, persecution, etc.

Last week I learned a few more that literally made me ill, brought me to my knees and tested my faith in a mighty way. They included: lack of fetal heart motion, miscarriage, termination of pregnancy via surgery and a diagnosis of missed abortion.


Yes, we were pregnant.

Yes, Taylor was expecting a sibling (finally!) in late November.

Yes, the baby had a heartbeat 11 days prior to our appointment last Monday.

No, there is nothing we could have done to cause the baby to stop developing or to have prevented it from happening. (this is one I've been told over and over and over...)

Yes, we were (are) devastated. Without going into detail, this was our miracle baby. One we felt incredibly blessed to have been given and one we would have gone to the ends of the earth to protect. But we weren't given that opportunity. At least not past the 8 weeks and 6 days we were allowed to keep it.

Yes, the days from Monday (when time stood still as we saw the very eery and still ultrasound) to Thursday (when I had surgery) were hell on earth. Carrying your dead baby is something I would not wish on my worst enemy. Ever.

No, I do not understand why this had to happen. In my (very biased, obviously) opinion, the sequence of events was one of the most cruel scenarios that could have played out. I have both yelled at and cried out to the God who gives and takes away. Repeatedly.

Last week I was, at times, convinced that He must be very angry at me. At others I felt the peace only He could provide. Between those extremes, I was mainly inconsolable and willing to turn only to my man.

I have been incredibly BLESSED with an absolutely amazing man who willingly listened to my ranting and raging as both my hormones and emotions catapulted and then plummeted. The one who never left my side. Not even once. The one who was my rock through this nightmare and promised me that I was strong enough to endure. The one who kept the faith when I could not.

Yes, the tears still come. Far too easily.

Yes, my heart still feels at times like something is missing.

No, I have not trusted and rested in the fact that this is His plan at all times. Why? Because I want my baby. Here. With us.

Yes, Taylor is incredibly disappointed and I cursed myself for telling her too soon as I held my crying firstborn as the news sunk in.

BUT I am slowly starting to feel like myself again. I am slowly turning back to Him and trusting that our baby was only taken as a part of His bigger (and better) plan.

Why?

Because if I don't, then everything I believe, profess and base my life on is worthless and untrue.

And that's simply not the case. He is real. And He is the same as he was on Easter Sunday when I believed my baby was still alive and would be here with us for Thanksgiving.

He is the same.

To this I will cling.

Let us hold unswervingly to the hope we profess for He who promised is faithful!

Hebrews 10:23 NIV