When I became a mother.
Updated: Oct 19, 2020
Aside before you read: The following story is only a part of the whole picture of what I felt and what occurred. I wrote most of what you'll read over a year ago now as a way of my own healing. I discuss the miscarriages we went through from my personal perspective. Please only read ahead if you feel comfortable with this topic.
For months, I asked myself, do I count as a mother?
At 24 years old and within the first year of marriage, I found myself in a ricochet of emotions, bouncing from joy to tears, having experienced two miscarriages.
I am the girl who will tell you I would love to have 100 children. I also prayed for a man who would love children the way I did and God gifted me my husband. I didn’t think it possible, but he arguably loves little ones even more than me.
Upon getting married, we weren't specifically trying, but we knew the possibilities of course. I ended up being pregnant right after our honeymoon a.k.a. the first time in my life it was possible and the timing having been just so. I remember walking in the door and as my husband came behind me and into our apartment, he said "God told me you're pregnant". Well, a week later when I tested, we saw two pink lines. We rejoiced - my husband danced around the house, we smiled nonstop, read every article, downloaded the apps, and told friends so quickly. We were unable to hide our joy.
A couple weeks later I was playing tag with some of the children at a church dinner. I began to have intense pain and started throwing up. The next day, I entered the emergency room and left knowing I was losing my first child. The lighthearted honeymoon phase was quickly replaced with walking through heavy grief. Our hearts healed considerably - mine in very large part to my husband holding me hours on end while I cried in his arms - and my body physically healed too.
Then, months later and the day after our church had ended a month of fasting and prayer, I found myself pregnant for the second time. Again, the happiness was so strong. She was a little girl. We named her to be Sophia Rose. She grew and my stomach grew and I ate a lot of tacos to assist with all of the growing. We saw her heartbeat - the beautiful little light that flashed on the screen.
Weeks later, the same day we found out she had Trisomy, a chromosome disorder, we found out Sophia’s heart had stopped beating.
I remember the disbelief I felt. I remember the option to abort immediately or wait to see what happened. I remember the judgement, shame, and lack of understanding for why... I remember being told it was because we had a child again too quickly or sins we had committed, I remember someone telling me it was disgusting that I keep a baby in me whose heart I knew had stopped beating, I remember that I had tried so desperately hard to do everything right, yet it was still happening again and the guilt and shame that came with it all felt consuming...
BUT more than that I remember the grace of God and the faith He alone gave me... faith that somehow her heart would maybe start to beat again, faith that I wasn't alone, and faith that I knew was being put to the test. It was one of the times in my life where I was given the choice - either I live out the faith I proclaim to have or I live defeated. And thank God for God and for my husband, as well as church friends and family. I thank all those who stood by us in prayer. I know many who prayed and even fasted for us and I am forever grateful.
We did end up losing Sophia and even though the doctors had said it was alright to miscarry naturally, complications necessitated that my husband rush me to the emergency room again when I was a little over 13 weeks. I'll sum the night up quickly and plainly - it was a blur of a lot blood loss, vomiting and later blacking in and out from intense pain, tears, and the doctor pulling our little one out of me with long surgical tongs…a picture of how cold and cruel the enemy can be.
And yes I felt it… the crippling heartbreak, the physical pain that continues past the emergency room as my body healed, the fifteen extra pounds I had put on from two pregnancies, the way the devil wanted me to feel alone and full of shame, the tears that forever seemed to waterfall down my face, the ringing of questions in my ears… Why?? Did I get pregnant too quickly? Am I just a statistic of the 20% that this befalls? Was it something that I did wrong? Do I count as a mother?
BUT God. For what the enemy intends for evil, God turns into good. While the feelings were real, they weren't the reality of God. God saw and sees those precious first two. He predestined each baby before they came into my womb. He knew the path of each of their lives on earth, albeit in our timing so short. His plan and purpose is far greater than the one I can even imagine. He is close to me every day, strengthening my faith, and forever knocking on the door to my heart. He walked with me through it all and never left me. He never gave up on me, no matter how much I retreated in my feelings. He just kept whispering His truths.
I am a mother.
God be with all the mothers who feel the pain of miscarriage… those beautiful women of God who feel it once or many times and at all points in pregnancy. Let them feel Your comfort and fill them with the knowledge that You are near to the brokenhearted. Lord, let your daughter know she is deeply loved and that yes, SHE IS A MOTHER too. Thank you for holding our little ones in Your arms until the day we get to say hello..
The faithfulness of God overshadows the darkness. God is our strength. God is our refuge.