I feel like my life is a book without an ending. I have a story but the ending is yet to be revealed. I am getting close to the end but just like a good book, the last part can seem to take so long to get through when you just want to know how it ends.
I have done little to prepare for our baby. She is due in three months and she does not have a bedroom, clothes, a car seat in the car, etc. I know that I have enough from when Riley was born that I could get by for awhile before I would really have to go buy anything or even have a room for her. So I have just been putting it off. Putting it off because I am tired, because my time seems so limited, because the demands of my family are too great for me to focus on preparing for a baby right now and because it is very scary to prepare for a baby that you fear may not ever come. But the planner in me had a little panic attack recently when it hit me that three months will fly by so fast and I am not at all ready for this baby, or at least our home is not at all ready for her. So I started the process, I bought a few things here and there and today while I was busy converting our guest room into a play room and our play room into a nursery and all the while trying to keep Riley entertained I got a phone call. These phone calls come every so often and they always stop me dead in my tracks. A mother has lost her baby. She is in despair. She has found the number, my number, to the support group I used to co-lead with another baby loss mother. She is calling for help because she has no where else to turn. This particular mother has had several children with no problem and then out of no where, totally unexpected, all of a sudden she is having miscarriages, one at 15 weeks and then another at 20 weeks. We talk for a few minutes, mainly she just wants referrals to a private counselor. I give her some referrals and tell her she is welcome to call me anytime if she needs anything. I hang up and my heart hurts. I know her pain. I feel sick when I think about what she is going through right now. I thank God she has other children. They will be angels who carry her through. But to make it that far two times in a row and then to lose them both...I feel the anxiety rise up in me. And this is the double edged sword that is support groups and part of why I stopped leading the one I used to. You find great comfort in knowing you are not alone and bonding with other mothers who know how you feel, the only other people on earth who know how you feel. Their stories also scare the hell out of you. I know mine surely scares the mother who has had one or two miscarriages. She thinks, "Finally, someone who understands." She also thinks, "Oh my, Am I going to have six miscarriages too??!!" I know that's how she feels because I remember when I had just had two miscarriages and I would hear stories of people who had seven or eight and then finally had a baby and all I would think was, "Is that going to be me?" I totally missed the part about how she did eventually have a baby, I just heard lots of miscarriages and felt terrified. Maybe it was my intuition...that did indeed turn out to be me.
Support groups are amazing and also scary. I hung up the phone and felt paralyzed. How can I go on preparing for this baby when I hear a story like that? I remember how keenly aware I am that I could still lose her. How do I finish the task I have started, a half converted guest room/ play room/ nursery? My house is a mess with piles of things that are designated for a certain room, certain shelf or Goodwill. I feel overwhelmed with the task ahead, preparing our home for this baby, living out three more months in my story with no ending. I was doing ok operating inside my own little protective bubble, but when a scary phone call bursts my bubble it is really hard to go on. I talk myself through it....That is her story, not yours. God is working in her life just like He has worked in mine. He is carrying her just like He has carried me. He will provide just what she needs to get through each day just as He has done for me. He has a plan for her and her family and He is a God of miracles. He will redeem this pain in her life, some way, some how. I know He will. But the one thing I cannot do is take her story and make it mine. I remember my story, a story that began with a rainbow, that contains all the elements of a good story, heartache, determination, faith, blessings in the midst of the pain, great love between a man and a woman who must endure the fire that refines their love and makes it come out shinier and stronger than it ever could have been if not for the burning heat, a miracle baby named Riley...and a great ending. I don't know how this story will end yet. The next three months will tell us. My heart aches for the mother I spoke to today. I will think about her all day. But I will chose to focus on what I do know. And what I know is this, God has been with Jason and myself and this little baby from the very beginning. He has brought her this far and he has touched my heart with a strange assurance that she will make it here safe and sound. God's timing is perfect with this little baby as she came just when our family needed this little ray of hope more then we could imagine. All of us are hopeful, despite great family tragedy right now, because of her little life inside me. This is what I know of my story, I have Jason, I have Riley, I have a baby who is alive and kicking today and I have a God who loves me. Maybe that is the end of my story. But I think God has a better ending than that in store for us. I wait in eager anticipation to see my story, His story, unfold.
I love you always and forever and no matter what.
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