I’ve thought about how to compose this blog entry but nothing eloquent comes to mind. Last weekend we found out we were pregnant. Pregnancy #5. One live birth, three failed pregnancies…no, now that would be four failed pregnancies. I had called the doctor’s office in good faith that this pregnancy would succeed. I had to call back on Friday to cancel the prenatal appointment and reschedule a consult, instead. I was taking the progesterone supplements in hopes that they would assist my body. That and prayer. Neither seemed to work.
Easter weekend turned out differently than we had planned. Cousin Maria called and cancelled their plans with us due to colds in their home. We had decided to cancel as well since I didn’t have the physical strength to host. Sunday was quiet for us. I helped with childcare at church but then came home. I needed the time to be alone and not in the midst of happy Easter-morning church goers. Dan had laryngitis so he was out, too. I thought that after having previous miscarriages, the mourning would be easier. It isn’t. Maybe it gets harder because of the failing hope that ‘next time’ will be successful.
In my Bible study on Thursday morning, I learned that as Daniel was being sentenced to the lions’ den, he didn’t panic (do the wrong thing) or be paralyzed (do nothing). He prayed. How timely that lesson was.
“…Then the men went as a group and found Daniel praying and asking God for help.” Beth Moore pointed out that had Daniel been given the option to endure the trial once again, he probably would have done so, in order for God to be glorified. Daniel was at least 80 years old and going strong.
Another scripture that has come to our attention is Psalm 127:1-3
“Unless the Lord builds the house, its builders labor in vain.
Unless the Lord watches over the city, the watchmen stand guard in vain.
In vain you rise early and stay up late, toiling for food to eat-
for He grants sleep to those He loves.
Sons are a heritage from the Lord, children a reward from Him.”
When we lose each pregnancy, my first thoughts are, “what did I do wrong?” Did I eat warm sandwich meat? Did I exercise too hard? Did I not drink enough water? Did I not pray enough? Is God angry with me? “In vain” seems to fully describe my feeble attempts to fix the problem. Drink de-caffeinated instead of regular. Swallow more omega-3 pills. Don’t lift anything heavy. Earn ‘brownie’ points with God.
Our prayer-board in the kitchen has a long list of pregnant friends and their due dates. It pleases me to write due dates beside lonely ‘couple’ names: friends that have struggled as well for one reason or another. God is working. He is answering prayer. I like seeing the pregnant moms I know, with their growing bellies and knowing that each pregnancy is a miracle, for each woman will only carry but a few times in her life. I am happy for them. I am sad for me.
I know it is cliché in the Christian realm to say, “I’ll pray for you,” but I know we have many dear friends that do uphold us regularly. To you, we earnestly ask that you would intercede on our behalf and pray for:
1. God’s healing of my body and our saddened hearts.
2. God’s wisdom for the doctors to know how to proceed with future treatments and procedures.
3. That we would invest in the ‘talent’ God has given us: Russell. His soul is precious and we need godly wisdom to raise him for God’s glory.
“For I know the plans I have for you, plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future. Then you will call upon me and come and pray to me, and I will listen to you. You will seek me and find me when you seek me with all your heart.”
Jeremiah 29:11
