So it's my birthday. I usually really love my birthdays. Not so much today. And I've decided to tell you why. I debated for a long time whether or not to blog about my experience this summer (details to follow). I didn't want to be one of those people that put ultra-private things on a public blog for no reason. I've decided I have reasons enough: 1. I think it might help/force me to think through things a little better; 2. There might be someone out there who could benefit from what I have learned/am learning; 3. My kids or grandkids may benefit from this information someday. So there it is. You're stuck hearing my story (complete with all the ugly details) unless you choose not to read on, which I wouldn't blame you for because it's long.
If someone had asked me five years ago what my life would be like now I could never have imagined this. My life had always gone exactly how I planned it. I was of the belief that if you worked hard and did what was right you could essentially procure for yourself the life that you always wanted. Man, was I naive! Heavenly Father had other things in store for me and lessons that I apparently could not learn in the cocoon of my perfect life.
We have been trying to have another baby for 3 1/2 years. I will give you the very shortened version of our journey. After much prayer we decided to do in vitro fertilization in January. I was certain that it would work because I felt prompted to do it. After a severe complication we had to freeze our embryos. We transferred three embryos in March and didn't get pregnant. We transferred the last embryo in May and it worked. Finding out I was pregnant was my best day in recent memory. I thought my nightmare had finally ended. Then at 11 weeks pregnant, while in Bear Lake with my family, I had a miscarriage.
There is really no way to adequately express what I felt in the few days following my miscarriage. I had never experienced something like this before. I couldn’t understand how this could possibly be Heavenly Father’s plan for our family. Why would He deny me this righteous desire? Why would He allow me to get pregnant at all to just take it away a couple of months later? I even remember remarking to my sister-in-law that I wasn’t worried about a miscarriage because that would just be too cruel and I couldn’t imagine that would happen after everything I had been through. Again, how naive of me! Telling my kids that the baby had died was one of the worst things I have ever had to do. They had been praying for this blessing nearly as long as we had. Grace was crushed and immediately burst into tears. I don’t think she really knew how to process the information. I didn’t, and still don’t, know how to explain to an eight-year-old how Heavenly Father could give us this blessing only for it to be taken away a few weeks later. But, as kids do, they recovered quickly and became concerned for me more than anything else.
I’m not even sure where to start in recording the myriad of emotions I have been through in the last three months. Mostly I find myself trying to make sense of my suffering. Surely there must be a reason. There must be something I’m supposed to learn or become as a result of this experience. It can’t just be suffering for suffering’s sake. What I have discovered is that this is something I mostly have to carry on my own. This is not something I can share very well with anyone. I try to share it with Devon and my mom and an occasional friend, which helps, but it is a personal grief. I’m the only one who carried this baby. I’m the only one who felt connected to it from the moment I knew I was pregnant. I’m the one who felt the changes in my body and I’m the one who felt the emptiness when it was gone.
I read a lot of things about suffering and trials and how the Savior carries you in times of difficulty and I know this to be true. But I have a hard time knowing how to let him carry my grief. I know that this experience can mold me into the person I’m meant to be. I just wish it didn’t have to be so painful. I wish there was hope of another pregnancy. I wish I knew how to remain faithful in the face of such difficulty. I fear that I’m somehow failing this test and not learning what I’m supposed to. At the same time realizing that I just have to press forward and trust the Lord to tell me what I need to know. But it's not easy.
I know that I have innumerable blessings for which to be grateful; however, the withholding of this one blessing can easily overshadow the rest. I have to be careful to not let myself forget all the things I do have.So there you have it. Way more information than you were expecting from a birthday post. Fair warning to you all--this will not be the last you hear of my feelings about this. I just really feel the need to put it out there. Luckily for me I know a lot of wise people and I'm sure you all will help me find my way through this trial.
10 comments:
I'm so sorry Jessica! Another lady in our ward is three months pregnant and just found out her little girl will most likely have down syndrome or other neurological impairments. It's seem the Lord is trying many at this time. You and your family are in our prayers. I do think that when the time is right (The Lord's time and not perhaps our own)...he will bless your family. Something my mom has said is that babies tend to arrive at definite times in our lives--THank you for posting, hang in there :)
Hey Jessica. I can understand what you wrote about carrying your grief alone, knowing that you were the only one that could physically feel your baby and having no one else who could share in that memory as intimately as you could. I have thought often on how to ask the Lord for help in things that we cannot change and must only survive. I have come to learn that endurance is not only something that we must do, but a literal spiritual gift from God. Without that gift, we would crumble under the weight of too many sorrows and too many lost hopes. Endurance, the ability to "exist in" and "care for" one more day, hanging on to that string of faith, doesn't seem like much, but it produces much. And one day you'll wonder how you did it, and you'll see it then, you'll see how He made it possible and you'll recognize those qualities in yourself that came by no other means. And, even then, even when you see it all, He'll still be there to help you when it still hurts. I ache for your heartache. I also see your love and strength and pure testimony, it is intense and penetrating, and I have been edified by it on more than one occasion. Hold on.
Oh Jessica. You are awesome and amazing and I am so sad for your loss and for the feelings that you are still carrying with you. You are an incredible person and I am so glad that I can count you as family. I have been going through a lot lately too, but nothing to the extent that you have (so I am not comparing myself to you). But through the struggles I have found countless insights that have helped me to understand not only myself, but the Lord and why things are they way that they are.
Just today I was struck by this insight during Sunday School. We were in 3 Nephi 17-18 where Christ is blessing the children and praying for the people. It talked about how he suffers because of our iniquity and weeps because of our faith. And it reminded me of why we weep and when we weep and so forth. And I was struck with the reminder that Heavenly Father and Jesus Christ don't just watch us weep, they actually weep with us. They are a part of who we are. They know each of us individually. They understand our sorrows and they don't only provide us solace when we come to them, but they also provide us with compassion as they are acutely aware of what we are going through. They are in all things and they are all around us. Your weeping and sorrow is not in vain and you are not alone in the midst of it. Always remember that.
Thought I have never been pregnant or miscarried, my biggest fear is that I won't be able to get pregnant and won't have the opportunity to have children. But I have hope because there is a plan. I know that you know that. It is just figuring out what that plan is for you that is the hard part. I think that the hardest part is to not let the negative get us mired in the mud. I love you.
i stumbled across your blog again today and was so glad that i did. first of all, i'm deeply sorry for your loss. i remember seeing you at the bbq at the hansen's and how radiant and happy you looked. although i've only met you in person a few times, i feel like we have quite a bit in common.
i just want you to know that it really is okay to grieve. sometimes we get into the mindset that we have to be just fine and everything will be just fine, and we don't allow ourselves the time we truly need to grieve for our losses. and let me tell you, writing is a sure way to help you deal with the hurt and confused feelings you have. i know that you'll get through this hard time, but maybe there are some things you need to learn about yourself and what your limits are and what you really can handle. sometimes i think we can't fathom how strong we really are, especially if those boundaries are not tested.
i know that in your personal grief it is easy to withdraw inwards, but know that heavenly father has your sweet child in his arms and that our savior is extending his arms to you hoping that you will rely on him and cast your burden on him. thank you for sharing your experience, more people really do need to hear these stories because we all know someone who is going through similar situations. i wish you the best of luck and that you find your path through this difficult time.
I love you
I am so sorry for everything that you are going through. You are such an amazing woman and mother. Thank you for sharing something so personal. We will keep you and your family in our prayers.
When Rachel told us that you were able to get pregnant off of that last embryo, our hearts were lightened for you. When she told us of your miscarriage, my heart went out to you. We've been through that one before. And it hurts. It takes very little time for the body to heal physically, but it takes a longer time to heal the soul after a miscarriage. I remember hating the idea that I lost the baby. It took time for me to understand that I didn't loose anything, nor was anything taken from me.
Although it has been 7 years now since my miscarriage, I can still remember, with great clarity, all of those events. But I no longer remember how the pain felt, I remember the pain and the emptyness. But they are only memories now. That is the power of the atonement. It took a lot of tears, and a lot of talking with my parents, my husband, and my Heavenly Father. And just when I thought I was okay, that I could feel normal again, I found that 9 months had gone by. And at that point my pains were all brought back to the surface again, I couldn't help but think of our loss again. And I was angry and upset with those who had babies about that time. For me, the second wave hit with such force, it wasn't a sense of loss that time, but anger. And the anger was much harder to understand, and to let go of. But I did, eventually.
I hope that knowing what you are feeling and going through, is very similar to many other people's experiences will help.
(I'm Rach's sister-in-law)
It is so hard to not be able to do anything to make it better. I am so sorry you and your family have had to go through this. When you need a shoulder (or an ear) you know where to find me.
As always, I'm so sorry that all this happened. Just like anything in life, grief is a process, and you need to take it easy on yourself as you go through it. You're such a perfectionist, and I'm sure that there are parts of you that feel like you need to handle this trial perfectly, too. Then when the waves of grief come, and you begin to question the strength of your faith, you may start to feel guilty about even having those feelings, about not having "perfect faith." At least, that was how it was with me. Now that I'm on the other side (although my trial isn't necessarily over), I can see that I needed to be gentler with myself, to allow myself to feel the whole range of emotions as I went through it. You are so loved by everyone who knows you! Although you carry the burden of the loss alone, our hearts grieve for you and your family, too. And we all will be here to support you and love you every step of the way.
It is like what you said tonight. You didn't have a true understanding of the atonement. Until now. We have been taught this doctrine our whole lives. We have embraced it, we have on occasion used it in the repentance process. We know that this is the only way to return to our Father in Heaven.
However, just because we have been taught this doctrine, sometimes in order to understand it to its fullest, we need to really experience it. We may not like it. There wasn't necessarily a bucket of trials we could pick from in Heaven so that we could learn from each of those.
Father in Heaven knows what we need to learn. He knows what experiences will help us grow.
It is amazing sometimes how we can go through life believing, but not truly believing AND understanding. Let's say for example the Plan of Salvation. Sounds wonderful. It is wonderful. It is a great doctrine. We learn it and think wow those are some great promises.... and then we move on to the next.
Then BAM, we lose someone we love and the Plan of Salvation becomes real, it becomes almost tangible. We gain a stronger belief in it, we CLING to it, rather than just thinking 'oh nice doctrine' and move on to the next.
I don't know if that makes sense, but I think that God has His own way in teaching us all the things He thinks we need to learn in order to grow.
Another thought... Someone somewhere said that in order for us to be truly teachable, we need to be broken down so that we can be built up bigger and better than where we were before.
I know long comment... I should send an email :)
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