this post is layered. i will just warn you now.
six years ago this christmas eve, a momma was expecting her third babe.
babe one was a relatively new three year old, filled with anticipation for chirstmas. babe two was a resident of heaven, taken before birth at the beginning of the second trimester, somewhat unexpectedly. and babe three was thriving in her momma's womb, after several months of bed rest, ready to meet the outside world.
due on christmas.
a little bit of back story, my first birth did not go as planned. i had anticipated a natural delivery. even more than anticipated, i had longed for a natural delivery. things didn't go the way i had written them out for my doctor in my birth plan. while i was able to avoid a c-section, my sweet e did not come without a challenging birth story. three hours of pushing, an epideral, and a very confusing labor experience produced my first baby. regardless of the details, she was a true gift.
my second pregnancy had been very planned. we decided to give baby two a go and got pregnant right away. and i thanked God for giving us the desire of our hearts. i marched into the pregnancy with hope and anticipation. and then just a very short few weeks later, began to bleed. as any pregnant woman might, i began to loose hope. would this baby make it? we went to countless doctors visits, had countless blood draws to test the levels and then heard the heartbeat that we had been so longing to hear. we breathed a sigh of relief. the heartbeat was the true test, right?
and slowly with baited breath we marched into week twelve. as i passed the mark, we exhaled.
prematurely.
a few days into week thirteen my midwife suggested we have a 3d ultrasound. my levels weren't in a place that left her comfortable and she wanted to get a better picture of what might be going on. knowing i had prayed for this baby, knowing that we had passed the "danger zone", i walked into the ultrasound nievely. i thought we were good as gold.
just moments into the ultrasound, with scott holding my hand and ellie in the stroller behind him, we learned that baby two no longer had a heartbeat. there were all sorts of physical complications and the baby just didn't make it. and i lay on the table silently weeping, trying to wrap my head around the fact that this baby was not to be.
we went home to see if my body would pass the remains naturally.
those two weeks of waiting are frozen in my mind. i was showing just enough that i decided i could not leave the house for fear of having to explain my situation. i made the choice to wait it out in the safety and privacy of my home, telling a few close friends that i would be fine but that we were going into "isolation" for a bit.
and for a brief moment, i felt like all hope was lost.
i remember trying to settle into that and situate myself in that and find rest in that simple fact. but i could not.
hope lives within me. and minute by minute i felt it rise up and force its way to the front of my cerebellum and burst within my heart.
yes, i was sitting with a stillborn baby that i had imagined holding in my arms, but somehow a
ll i could feel was hope. and i remember turning to God and saying something to the effect of, "how is there hope in this?"
and God, through the arms and feet of man, ministered hope to my soul. in those two weeks, people pressed in. they didn't share trite "christian speak" empty and trite words. they told me it sucked. they told me they were sorry. they brought dinners. they brought chocolate. they hugged me and let me cry.
they looked me in the eye and they did not leave me alone.
and as i felt all of this, the ever so heavy weight of this, i clung to my bible. it's funny how that happens. when we are in despair, we need a savior. and so in those moments, we cling to Him.
and in this clinging, i grabbed hold of verses. i printed them out on cards and read them day and night. i wrote them on my heart and as i thought of my suffering and compared it to the suffering of Jesus on the cross, i felt lighter. and through each day of waiting for my baby to pass
i felt hope.
shortly after this ordeal, i found myself to be very unexpectedly pregnant once again.
pregnancy three. was i ready for this?
when i think back on it all, i can't recall how i felt. i imagine that i felt fear, but quite honestly i don't remember feeling that way. the memory that permeates my mind is the
feeling of hope. i'm sure i was nervous in those first few weeks, but everything looked good and it was a very healthy pregnancy.
until it wasn't.
i was walking down the snowy sidewalk of oak brook mall with my e at my side, bursting with baby in my abdomen, and felt these terrible pains. i tried to ignore it. i tried to rationalize it. i tried to pretend that my mind was simply magnifying it… until i realized this was not a good plan. and then i marched myself into out of the snowy outdoor shopping mall and drove myself to my midwife's office. and there i was sent to labor and delivery- not to deliver the baby, but to monitored for a period of time because things did not look great.
i remember meeting scott at the hospital door and handing over e, only to have to march into the l&d unit alone. fear tried to grip me, and labor pains rippled through my body. and i remember this odd moment where it all flooded across my mind and i realized i had a choice. the bible verses that had been my mantra from my miscarriage swirled through my mind. i could let myself be overcome by fear and hopelessness… or i could choose hope.
you see, hopelessness, to me, suggests that there isn't much to live for. and i knew that was just not my truth! i have lots to live for- i had my scott and my e, my momma, my daddy, sisters who i adore a brother who was (at the time) fighting overseas in the military, good friends, and a true belief that heaven is real and that Jesus is who He said He was- the son of God sent to redeem the earth and bring life to man.
i chose
hope.
i spent a few hours under observation, contracting a significant amount, but showing no signs of labor progress. and so they sent me home- on bed rest. with a three year old. to wait out my remaining six weeks of pregnancy.
good times.
and then i found myself at the eleven o'clock service at our quaint little church in western springs, hearing the story of christmas six weeks later. my abdomen was contracting and i was on the eve of my due date. i had made it to the mark we had hoped for, i had exceeded that date, and was holding a candle and singing "o holy night" anticipating the birth of my baby. just like mary.
that christmas eve will go down in the history books as the most "holy of nights" for me. my mind eclipsed and i was able to relate to mary in a way that i am not sure i ever could have without my exact circumstances. i imagined how she must have felt slightly crazy being with babe but never having been with joseph. i imagined how her mind tried to wrap itself around her encounter with Jesus and the declaration that she was to give birth to the son of man. what does that even look like as you unravel it in your mind. i imagine she felt a tiny bit loco.
i imagined how she must have been terrified as she got the news that they had to travel that far when she was that close to giving birth. i imagined how her body must have ached as she rode into town looking for a place to stay- i even imagined her trying to decide if she should tell joseph just how urgent it was to get a place for the night or if she tried to hold back because she realized he was already under great stress. and an epideral wasn't a choice for her. what had she heard about childbirth? was she terrified about the experience itself? and what happens when the son of man pops out? is it like a regular baby? what will He be like?
and while i am sure that anxiety tried to take over, the story sort of looks like peace prevails.
i held my candle with one hand, and wrapped my arm around my e with the other (who was standing on the pew) and my eyes brimmed with tears. i was not sad.
i was filled with hope. hope for my family as we anticipated the arrival of this new little girl who had made it to the finish line and hope for the world who gets to mark the anniversary of the birth of mary's baby boy- the Son of God.