Monday, October 22, 2007

Life...

Week #2 has started. I feel like I just lived through losing the baby. Jonathan and I were talking last night and he feels like it's been ages ago. It's just different, the long-term effect on us separately. I knew it would be and that is ok with me. He is over his grief for the most part while I still am experiencing it in a real way.

Have you every had two delicately chained necklaces somehow get thrown too quickly back into your jewelry box, only to pay for it later when you tried to retrieve them? They're a tangled mess, compounded if they look alike. I used to be the go-to girl in my family for tangled necklaces. I'd diligently labor over those things with my fingernails (well, as a violinist, my left hand had none), untangling it piece by piece. In under an hour, I'd have the necklaces separated and a very happy sister. Even in marriage, I've translated that into helping my husband with fishing wire and a very tangled net... No cutting, just long hard work.

Well, I've discovered my feelings over this miscarriage are much like two tangled necklaces. I discovered I am actually grieving TWO things. The immediate grief, sorrow, and hurt was over losing over baby, our baby's death, never knowing what our baby looked like, never getting to hold it, the hopes of this pregnancy destroyed, losing our firstborn.... This is expected, understood. Anyone who has lost a child in-utero has felt this I think.

But after living through my first week of realizing our baby's death, my feelings the second week turned different. The cutting grief wasn't the same. I was... depressed (something I'm not sure I've ever experienced in my whole life). I was able to cook and do laundry and work again. But the house brought a deep-seated gloom over me. Quiet thoughts turned dark. I wasn't crying as much, but it was so hard to keep from a creeping saddness over me. I wondered why I should be depressed, when I know our baby has now never known sin, never been separated from Christ, and is being cared for by the one who loved it so much He gave His life for it.... And then I saw the second chain... I began to untangle the different emotions...

I was depressed because of what it took to get pregnant. Twenty-six months to get that baby... 7 medicated cycles, three of them IUIs, one of them IVF. 17 retrieved eggs, 8 embryos with only 3 (for now) surviving (the two we transferred, the one that froze). A few thousand dollars. 31 rough, intramuscular progesterone-in-oil shots... and now the knowledge that we have a few months to try ourselves, but J's deployment will take 2-3 months from TTC and we miss out on WH's Jan IVF cycle, so we wait until May. So there is my secondary grief. Actually, I don't grieve over that, I'm just depressed looking at all it may take to even get pregnant agian. But weren't we lucky? IVF #1 worked. That doesn't mean IVF #2 will. I keep forgetting not to assume that.

So, last night I called a dear sister and friend. She knows the pain of IF plus miscarriage. I knew from emails that even with a new baby she still grieves those two lost babies and misses them. So I talked to her about the new emotions. And she listened and validated what I'll feel. She talked about how normal these stages are. She let me talk about our baby (which I want to so much!). She talked about hers. It just helped give me a feeling that I'm not so alone or so crazy or so obsessed. It's ok to think and talk about our child and how afraid I am of what it'll take to get another one to stick around. But one we've talked, we recognize God's goodness, provision, and continual grace to handle every trial that comes our way. And handling does not mean ignoring!

I got off and talked to Jonathan, that's when he told me he doesn't grieve anymore. And I didn't feel sorry for myself, we are opposite and complimentary, and one's weakness is the other's strength. I know his new emotions don't mean he doesn't care. Not in the least. I'm glad we can talk. He doesn't thinking I'm prolonging my pain. He doesn't think I'm dwelling on it for my purposes. I talked about the hardship of my tangled necklaces of miscarriage with IF.

So, as a sweet grace of God, I don't feel depressed today. I know He hears the cries of my heart, our prayers, and He gives new mercies every single morning. Sometimes the mercies look different and don't feel enough, but at the end of the day, I look and know they were sufficient. Just like He promised.

I have appreciated every comment, email, and other sweet things (notes, flowers, scriptures, calls, book recommendations). They have been kind reminders that we're loved and we're not alone. We have a family of dear believers surrounding us, loving & praying for us. We need this so very much! I can't imgaine having gone through everything without everyone's kindness, love and prayers. We are so undeserving, but thank you.

3 comments:

Jeanie said...

Denise-
I only grow in my respect for you as you have walked through this intense grief in such a God-honoring way. I know you are not perfect, but I also know how difficult it is to share those deep, dark feelings of grief with others. You have done that so well. I know this honors the Lord- and it enables us all to continue to lift you up in prayer specifically for the needs of the day. Isaiah 26:3-4 spoke volumes to me today- I hope it encouraged you too. I love you, my friend. And will continue to pray for you & Jonathan.

Carolyn said...

Well, here I go crying for you again, sweet friend...

I've thought from the beginning that what you have gone through to get pregnant would certainly make it harder to face a miscarriage. It seems either would be anguishing by themselves, let alone together. It will take a while to heal, and you will never forget the memories of those few weeks carrying your first baby.

Thanks for posting. I'm glad to hear that in the midst of life's storms your are still trusting in the Lord. *hugs*

Claudia said...

Your strength and courage is a beautiful thing. I'm glad you have good friends to talk with and a husband who compliments you so very well. A big hug from Texas. . .