I’ve thought a lot about whether or not to move these posts from “draft” to “published” status and presenting them in this focused fashion. I’ve thought about the implications, the possibility that someone may find the package a bit sensational, Michaela screaming, “Look at me and my pain!” in some very unhealthy, attention-thirsty manner (arms flailing). I’ve thought about the possibility that someone will say something I don’t like in response to all this. I’ve thought about my friends who’ll read this and wonder why I never told them. I’ve also thought about whether or not sharing this is appropriate for a pastor. That’s probably the hardest question blazing through my head. Can a pastor be this honest? Can a woman pastor afford to be this honest?
And this is what I’ve concluded. I want all my joy and pain to help someone else…
>>>the person who knows nothing about what it’s like to lose a baby before it’s born and, perhaps, doesn’t realize that they can be part of the healing process. They’re not supposed to say nothing. They’re not supposed to downplay the loss. They’re not supposed to come up with a program to make sure all women who’ve miscarried feel warm fuzzy at all times. They are supposed to be present, acknowledge the pain and make space for its expression as best they can. And all we can do is our best.
>>>a woman who miscarries and isn’t sure of her emotions, isn’t sure of her next steps. I want that woman to read these posts and realize that she’s in the company of many more women, thousands who’ve wondered why her baby didn’t make it and fears that future tries will produce more of the same. And I want that woman to be encouraged to own her emotions, make time for them as best she can, unpack them, sort through them. I want that woman to know this as a place where she can also journey more openly. She can ask questions. She can speak to her pain here. Are you that woman? I want you to stop feeling ashamed, stop wondering about all the hows and whys. I want you to come to places of peace, “places” because the journey is a crazy dance between peace, anxiety, anger, tears, and a whole lot more. Peace is found in a conversation here, a warm beverage there, and even the sight of a friend who’s 7 months pregnant. Yes, even there…if you let yourself grieve.
These posts are my grief journal. I’ll add more as the journey continues.
- week 5
- week 6
- week 7
- week 8
- 8 weeks and counting
- it’s all gone
- i want to parent now more than ever
- the crying
- to be known
01/05 — took a prego test that came back positive
01/06 — took another one just to be sure
01/08 — called my doctor’s office to confirm and ask what my next steps should be. Nurse practitioner figured I was 5 weeks along. Referred me to a specialist because of stroke history.
01/17 — first doctor’s appointment. Justin came with (he comes to each appointment). Had an ultrasound. Heard the heartbeat. It was strong. Also found out I have fibroids.
01/31 — second doctor’s appointment. Had another ultrasound. No heartbeat. Doc told us we’d miscarried.
02/06 — D&C
03/18 — MRI to figure out fibroid placement and number
05/29 — Ultrasound appt with doc to finalize fibroid treatment. Myomectomy (with da Vinci robot) scheduled for July 10.