***I wrote this a couple of weeks before announcing on Facebook***
I don’t even know where to begin. My mind and my heart have
been back and forth and up and down and sideways and just straight up batty
with indecision regarding how I want to share the news of this much-wanted
pregnancy with the world. The result of such vacillating has led to the default
decision to just let it be. It isn’t a secret. It isn’t exactly common
knowledge yet. But the news is slowly trickling out into the world. The most
important people already know. Sorry, if you’re finding out here, then you’ve
probably guessed that you aren’t on that list. I love you anyway! Besides, the
most important people are always my close family.
I want another of my babies so badly. That is a trite
expression to convey a deeply complex feeling. I’m always excited about each
newly created life. I don’t take that gift for granted, like I used to. It’s
difficult to keep that kind of news to myself, so I typically blurt it out on
social media as soon as Darren lets me. There’s a lot of love to be found in
the outpouring of support and excitement from my family and friends. But when
the pregnancy doesn’t last, it is painful to retract. It is painful to announce
a loss. Having done so twice, it begins to feel performative. On the other hand,
there was one baby that didn’t even last long enough to make it to social
media. I didn’t even get to tell Darren about it until after the fact, because
he was at drill, and I wanted to tell him both sets of news, respectively, in
person: We’re pregnant! We lost the baby. Nobody knew about that one at first,
except for God and me. Grieving in solitude is not something I would recommend.
I craved external support for the strength it provides. I want to cry alone,
but I want the prayers of those who love me to help me through it.
After our second miscarriage, I decided that I wasn’t strong
enough to endure any more loss. I wasn’t strong enough to face each month with
no new pregnancy. We decided that 3 kids is enough kids. But we were pleasantly
(and terrifyingly) surprised almost a year later to find ourselves expecting,
yet again. Surely. SURELY. Surely, there is no way that this one won’t make it,
I thought. It feels like such a gift. However, Heavenly Father saw fit to allow
the pregnancy to run its course in just a few weeks. There went another one. I understand that it is not in my purview to define His gifts the way I like them to be defined.
With this loss, my head was spinning, but I felt peace. I
felt exhausted, emotionally and physically, but I felt a new strength.
Together, we discussed our future. We felt impressed to acknowledge that maybe
we weren’t done with bringing babies to this world, but maybe it wouldn’t be as
easy as it had been before. Maybe there would be more loss. Maybe we would
never be able to bring another kiddo to the finish line of pregnancy. Maybe.
MAYBE. Maybe, Heavenly Father needs to be in control. We submitted our will to
His.
It was another 6 months before I knew there was another
little life inside of me. I felt all the feelings all at once, and then some. Seems
like a brain could explode with so many emotions happening simultaneously, but,
it turns out, the brain is fairly resilient to emotional overload. Name an
emotion, and I promise I was feeling it. I started to breathe a little easier
at our viability scan. That little 7 week human in my belly had a strong heartbeat.
A couple weeks later, I was able to see it again, swimming on the screen. Heart
sounding strong. My breathing got a little easier. My symptoms have been nice
and strong. I’ve been appropriately miserable and nauseated. That’s comforting.
The hard days are the good days. They are the days I can most believe that
everything is going just the way it is supposed to.
I’m now about 11.5 weeks along. With each passing week, my
fear relaxes a little bit in some ways. In other ways, not so much. I know
there are no guarantees. I know that if I were to lose my baby now, it would be
extremely physically painful, and the memory of losing my 9 week pregnancy is
still super fresh. That was incredibly painful. I remember feeling surprised at
how painful it was. I assume it gets harder the more a pregnancy progresses.
I’m at the point where I believe I am ready to share the
news more publicly. I’m ready to share my joy. I’ve fished around online for
ideas of how to announce, and can I just complain for a minute? I don’t like
the phrase, “rainbow baby”. I absolutely respect others’ use of the phrase, but
it doesn’t sit well with me. I always wondered why it rubbed me the wrong way,
and then I came across this blog post that hits the nail on the head. God’s
promise to Noah was that He would never flood the earth again. He doesn’t make
that same promise to me. This is my 3rd “rainbow baby” in a row. By definition,
the first one should have made it. But there was no promise there. Heavenly
Father doesn’t promise me a life free from heart hurts and sorrow. He doesn’t
promise me flawless fertility. He promises me His help, and the help of my
Savior. He promises that I will be able to endure whatever hardships I need to
endure to become more like He is. He promises me eternity with my family.
So, I will celebrate this life. I will appreciate the gift
we’ve been given. I will cherish its significance, whether I’m only meant to
carry it for a short time or all the way. I will celebrate every passing week
that gets me closer to holding it in my arms, and I pray every day that we will
see that day come (in the appropriate time frame)(ahem).
Tl;dr: WE’RE PREGNANT! Due November 23, 2021
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