Familiar Ground

Yesterday, while working at UMC, I was laughing to myself about how rediculous I must look walking around trying to work while being 9 months pregnant. I try to not complain since I feel incredibly blessed to be able to carry a healthy pregnancy; however, I must say that it has become more difficult the larger I get.  I tend to make grunting noises and breath heavy with almost any movement, my ankles and feet hurt after walking for awhile, and my belly is as tight as a drum.  I also have braxton hicks pretty much every day, all day long. 

While thinking about all of these things, something happened that was so familiar to me and yet gave me a huge reality check about where I am currently.  While reading a patient's chart, I heard a voice call out about three times in alarming agony followed by frightened cries.  A young woman, a nurse, probably my age or a little younger, ran out of a patient's room crying and muttering "there is blood down there" over and over.  My worst fears for her were realized when I came to find out that she is 12 weeks pregnant. 

I do not know at this time whether this young mother lost her baby or not.  There are a million things that can cause bleeding that may not result in pregnancy loss.  However, I do know that she was scared to death, literally, and I do know exactly how she was and is probably feeling.  I have never experienced a worse feeling than that of the fear of losing a child that I love and having that fear realized and not being able to do anything about it.  Old haunting feelings overtook me in this moment.  I remember the fear, the emptiness, the brokenness, the failure, the "if only I had", the resentment, the anger, and the despair associated with my experiences.  My heart is broken for this young woman.  Hopefully she didn't lose her precious child.  If she did, I pray my heavenly children will wrap their arms around her child and tell them about a mother's undying love for her children. 

My mom told me one day when we were discussing my miscarriages that in the Lord's Prayer it says "Thy kingdom come" and reminded me that His kingdom is more important than our Earthly home.  The Lord for whatever perfect reason thought that my children were perfectly suited for His Kingdom.  While this still hurts me, I find great comfort in knowing that my children are with the Lord, waiting for the rest of us to one day join them.  I like knowing that my body gave something beautiful to the Lord's Kingdom.  I like knowing that my little ones are watching us from above. 

I am thankful today that I have Noah.  I am thankful for Ethan's precious life growing inside of me.  I will not complain.  I know that my reality is another woman's dream.  I know this because I was that woman.  I am thankful for the reminder of where I've been so as to appreciate where I am now.  I am thankful that my experiences have given me empathy for women struggling with infertility and loss.  I am thankful that I know exactly how to pray for these women.  Most of all, I am thankful for my Lord and Saviour for loving and caring for all of our children, born and unborn, and for being in perfect control of our lives when control seems to be the furthest thing from us.

Please pray for this young mother and her child.  She is likely walking a path that no one would ever imagine for themselves nor would they want.  I wish I could tell her about the amazing people she will meet along the way, the spiritual/emotional growth she will experience, and the true appreciation she will have for her children.  However, despite all of the good things that come out of trials, the reality is that the journey is heartbreaking, painful, lonely, and all-consuming.  She will be forever changed and she will develop scars that won't ever completely heal or go away.  She is walking on ground that is familiar to me and familiar to so many that I have come to know over the years.  It is now that she needs us to pray for her because she is likely at a place right now where prayer seems impossible.