Before I begin, there's one thing I need to address. Jessica had her baby!!!! Yay!!!! It's a boy, born at home Sunday evening. And she ended up having an 'unattended' birth (just her mom and husband), because her labor was really fast and the midwife lives an hour and a half away. (And I thought Laurie was far away, because it takes her almost an hour to get here!) So go read her mom's guest post, and tell her congrats!
But anyway. Here's the deal. I have issues with the way society treats the idea of children. And marriage. And pregnancy. But I don't think this is news to anyone who comes around here regularly. Marriage is the most wonderful blessing a person can experience, outside knowing Christ in a personal relationship. Children are a blessing, amazing products of a holy union. I'm not saying that every single person should forgo all forms of birth control and have 26 children in 25 years, but every big family I know totally rocks!! And a pregnant woman is a lovely sight to behold, not some strange anomaly to be stared at in the grocery store, especially when she's 'already got all those other kids with her.'
And miscarriage isn't treated the way it should be treated, not necessarily by those around us, but by those of us who go through it. You don't just lose an idea, your body isn't getting rid of a few cells that didn't form correctly. When you miscarry, you lose a baby. We need to treat it like what it is!
Yes, it's different than losing a full-term baby, a child, a brother, sister, parent, or spouse. I'm not saying that it's the same thing. But it's not something that's meant to be ignored. Life doesn't return to normal as soon as you're able to stop using the pads. We need to be taught to grieve. We need to be told that it's ok to be sad, even two, three, five, or twenty months later. Everyone processes events, life, in different ways. Those of you who haven't been pregnant won't fully understand this, because you can't, until you come to the realization that you've been given the gift of a growing life inside you.
We all wonder what the baby will look like. Will this one have my nose, like the others do? Sam's hair is the color of mine when I was that age, but John's texture. Evie is the opposite, with her dad's color, and my texture. David? We're not quite sure about that yet. What would this baby's hair have been like? Would I finally have had a baby born with a bunch of hair? (Probably not, but I can hope!) Are any of my babies to come going to have my eye color? I really want a dark brown eyed baby!!
When you already have kids, it adds a whole different level to those questions. Sam and David have a very sweet, special, and obvious bond. I don't know if it's because they're brothers, because they share a room, or because of the age difference. Probably a little of all three, and then some. What about this baby? Who would help him take his first steps? Would it be John or me, or one of the older kids? David took his sweet time to walk, because he was an excellent crawler, and didn't have a problem keeping up with Sam and Evie indoors. He took off walking like a shot once the weather warmed up, and he had to keep up outside, though! Would this one do that? What would be his first word? What game would he like to play with his older siblings? Evie loved to be tossed around and hang upside down, even at a really young age that worried both of our moms. David loves it, too. Sam hated it, and still does. Would this baby be as insanely ticklish as the other three?
There's other questions, too, that only come with having a few kids under your belt. Sam's never had an allergy in his life, other than bull nettle. Evie was allergic to bananas when she first started solids. David loves spicy foods, and chips and salsa. What if this baby doesn't like or (God forbid!) is allergic to bell peppers? I'd have to change the way we eat half our meals? What if the baby can't tolerate milk? Man cannot live on cheese alone, but we like to try sometimes.
I so enjoyed nursing David. It was an absolutely wonderful experience. I can't tell you just how much I was looking forward to nursing this precious new little one, to the point where I feel very sad knowing it won't happen with this baby. I was so excited about having another homebirth, too! Part of me really wanted (and still wants) to have an unassisted birth ... but let's not tell John about that one. He'd get all panicky, and pass out, and make me sigh a blood oath promising not to make him deliver a baby once he woke up. :) But I had already running birth scenarios in my head.
Please don't think that I'm obsessing, or that I was obsessing before the miscarriage happened. I'm not, and I wasn't. All these thoughts are totally natural, and there's really no stopping them. It's when we don't take the time to acknowledge them, and we don't acknowledge what really happened, that we get into trouble.
I don't think there's a point to this post. Partially, I want to get all this written out so I don't forget. Heaven forbid this ever happens to you, maybe you'll remember just a pinch of what you've read, and you won't think there's something wrong with you, just because you feel emotionally fine one day, and burst into tears the next for no (apparently logical) reason. Maybe you've stumbled here because you're going through this. You're not alone! And even if you feel alone from your family and friends, you're never truly alone. There's an amazing, special, loving Someone who is always, no matter what, there for you.
Isaiah 40:11 He shall feed his flock like a shepherd: he shall gather the lambs with his arm, and carry them in his bosom, and shall gently lead those that are with young.
We're always in His arms. And that can be an awfully comforting thing to know when something you don't understand happens.
Matthew 5:4 Blessed are they who mourn, for they shall be comforted.
2 Corinthians 1:3-4 Blessed be God, even the Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of mercies, and the God of all comfort; Who comforteth us in all our tribulation, that we may be able to comfort them which are in any trouble, by the comfort wherewith we ourselves are comforted of God. For as the sufferings of Christ abound in us, so our consolation also aboundeth by Christ.
Ecclesiastes 3:1-2, 4 To every thing there is a season, and a time to every purpose under the heaven:A time to be born, and a time to die ... A time to weep, and a time to laugh; a time to mourn, and a time to dance.