It Was Then That He Carried Me...

When I lost this pregnancy, in my anger at God for taking my child, I literally begged Him to just show up.  I felt far from Him in my grief.  I felt like He had stepped out and left me.  So I begged Him to just be present and real and obvious to me.  I wanted Him to make His presence known.  I spent about two solid days lost in my thoughts...lost in my pain.  And then, He showed up.  Or probably He was really there all along...

He sent literal hoards of cards and messages and calls from all of you.  He sent sweet faces with even sweeter hugs and knowing tears to comfort me.  He sent my Mama to put her arms around me.  He wrapped me in my husband's arms and he laid my sweet baby Greysen in mine.  He provided for my every need.  He is STILL providing.  And my cup overflows with gratitude for who He is in my life.  How He so beautifully and effortlessly sweeps His brush across the mural of my life and makes something beautiful out of the ashes...

I may never truly understand on this side of Heaven why this happened.  I'm grateful for a God who lets me stay blissfully ignorant to His incredible plans because I know I would wreck them if He let me have the reigns.  We are a week and a half out from losing our sweet Soutine, but my God has been faithful.  He never left me.  He let me be mad at Him.  He let me cry and He let me question.  He let me feel every bit of the human emotion that comes with loss.  But He carried me every step of the way...He's still carrying me today...

On that Thursday night when I went to the ER, I had a callous nurse who was fairly uncaring.  In my anger about the situation, she is the only person I told you about.  But there was another character in that story.  And she deserves more airtime than the hardened nurse.  After checking into triage, I went back out to the waiting room.  I had been pretty numb on the drive over and in the process of checking in, but when I sat down and Jonathan put his arm around me...I lost it.  I clamored for Greysen so I could wrap my arms around my baby and smell his sweet head and soak up every ounce of him.  And I wept into the soft place between his shoulder and his neck while he sat still in my lap with his tiny arms slung around my neck.  And then she was there.  My eyes were clouded with tears, but I felt her warm hand on my shoulder and I heard her say, "I'm here in this hospital with you.  Tell me why you're crying dear."  I raggedly said, "I think I'm having a miscarriage."  I could hardly get the word out.  She stood there over me and she said, "Baby, sometimes we don't know what God is doing.  Sometimes we don't understand.  But He loves you and He loves this baby.  And His will will be done.  But He will comfort you if you let Him."  Through tear-filled eyes I looked up into hers.  She was a heavyset black woman.  She was wearing unassuming clothes and she handed me a package of tissues.  She had green eyes.  I stifled the urge I had to reach up and place my hand on her cheek.  I don't know where that uncanny urge came from to touch a stranger's face.  She put her hands on either side of my face and she prayed for me.  She prayed for my baby, for Jonathan, for my family, for my comfort and peace.  And she left.  After they had drawn my blood, they sent me to another waiting room.  In that room, she was there.  She talked with people around her as if they were just casually spending time together.  I couldn't bring myself to look at her again, but there was something soothing about just knowing she was there...

Y'all...I'm not one for "out of body experiences" or "supernatural manifestations".  But I know beyond a shadow of a doubt that the hands that touched my face that night were His.  I told Jonathan that night at home amidst my sobs that "I think that woman was God."  And he said, "I think so too.  I thought that the minute she walked up."  I told Him to show up.  He did.  In a big way.  In just the way I needed Him to.  And He's been showing up ever since.  Not for a second have I truly had to question how much He truly loves and cares for me in all of this.  And while I know I will never understand in my limited ability to grasp His purpose for things, I believe He has been gracious enough to provide me a little insight into His perfect plan...

The timing is so perfect, that I have to believe that my sweet angel Soutine was a gift for my Mimol on this earth AND in Heaven.  Her life and her purpose were bigger than me.  And while she never breathed a breath here on earth, I know she heard her Lord say "Well done my good and faithful servant."  For the two weeks I knew she was there, she brought unimaginable joy to me and my family and my sweet grandmother.  Knowing she was there was the last sheer joy my Mimol experienced on this earth.  It was the last time I heard her laugh or saw her cry tears of joy.  And the image I have in my mind is this.  My sweet Soutine, with her jet black curls like Daddy and her button nose like Mommy...her piercing blue eyes like her big brother Greysen...stood with her hand outstretched to Mimol.  And the two of them strolled into those pearly gates with Bernice's "Dance in the River" as their soundtrack.  They were welcomed with open arms and so much uncontainable joy. While I can be sad for a moment, I know it's ok not to be ok, I can't linger on the emotion of sorrow when I know what that reception was like.  When I know what MY reception will be like when that day comes for me.  My little baby girl accomplished her purpose on this earth in the blink of an eye.  Oh how He loves her.  Oh how He loves ME!  And today I cling to HOPE.  Because I know my God is faithful.  I know He finishes what He starts.  I know He is good ALL THE TIME.  And I know His plan for my life is marvelous.  That mural is far from finished...

Soutine

Writing is catharsis for me.  Reading this may be uncomfortable for you because in situations like this, so many just don't know what to say.  I don't know what to say either.  I suppose because there's nothing you really *can* say.  I'm sorry.  I love you.  I'm praying for you.  You're on my mind.  Those things seem to be the only things that feel appropriate...and somehow they also seem completely inadequate.  They are both.  They are exactly what I need to hear, and also not nearly enough...

Two weeks ago on August 15th, I decided that after 8 days of a missed period (when my cycles since Greysen was born have been miraculously regular), that I needed to take a pregnancy test.  I was at my grandparent's house visiting with my sweet grandmother who was less than a week away from going Home.  She was uncomfortable and declining rapidly...

Jonathan and I have been "trying" for about 6 months to get pregnant.  Knowing all the while that there was maybe more chance it wouldn't happen for us than that it would, we still wanted to commit  to giving it a shot.  So that night, the night of the 15th, I took an $0.88 pregnancy test in my grandmother's bathroom.  And lo and behold...two solid pink lines showed up.  I was shocked and so excited.  I walked out of the bathroom to the kitchen where my mom and grandfather were.  I said, "Look Mom" and showed her the test.  She looked at it and looked at me and said, "It's positive!  You're pregnant!" and she turned to my grandfather and said, "Pa...Rachel's pregnant!!"  And we hugged and called my dad and decided to wait to tell Jonathan until I could surprise him the next night when he picked me up from the airport...

The next morning I crawled into bed with my ailing Mimol and said, "Mimol...look!"  I showed her the test and I said, "I'm pregnant!".  And even in her only semi-lucid state at that point she gasped and said, "A baby??  Oh Rachel!  A baby!!  I could just jump right out of this bed and dance!  A baby!!!"  It was a sweet moment of pure joy.  My mom, my aunt, my Greysen, my Mimol, and my Pa all in the same room celebrating this sweet little baby of mine on the way.  My Pa stood at Mimol's feet and squeezed her toes and said, "Marc...TEN!"  I was carrying their 10th great-grandchild.  Mimol scanned the room and said, "Look how wonderful this is...everyone here.  A baby, Rachel.  A baby..."

I went home that evening and I surprised Jonathan with a positive pregnancy test and Greysen wearing a shirt saying "Promoted to Big Brother".  He was shocked and elated!  We then surprised Charlie and he was equally shocked and excited.  Tears filled his eyes when we told him.  For a week before I took that test I had been feeling that tell-tale pregnancy exhaustion.  I was semi nauseated in the mornings, had some food aversions, and of course the lovely pregnancy insomnia.  My belly had already started protruding even at just 7 weeks pregnant.  I felt those round ligament pains starting.  I bought a belly support band to keep those at bay and I ordered my favorite prenatal vitamins in bulk.  I made an appointment with a midwife and had decided that I wanted to explore home birth with this baby.  I, at the very least, was committed to natural labor and delivery this time.  I was committed to pursuing a purposeful and calm process of delivery.  Within a week of taking that test, I had an overwhelming feeling that she was a girl.  No doubt in my mind.  I kept my pregnancy somewhat secret as per custom in early pregnancy, but I couldn't help but tell a few people...we were just so excited!  And with all those pregnancy symptoms, I just knew everything was fine.  There was no way I was going to miscarry or have another ectopic pregnancy...

I buried my grandmother last Saturday after she passed the Tuesday prior.  Everything was good.  I have that sweet memory of her joy in my mind forever.  She said, "Rachel I hope I get to hold that baby" and I told her she would.  I didn't know then how true those words would be...

Tuesday this week, after dropping Greysen off at his first day of school, I noticed spotting.  I called Jonathan and he said, "Let's go to the ER babe.  I'll meet you there."  So off I went.  6 vials of blood, a pelvic exam, and an ultrasound later, the consensus was 1) Your cervix is completely closed...good sign!, 2) Your hCG levels are at 987...a little low, but good sign!, 3) There's a sac in the uterus...good sign!, and 4) Even though it's a little too early to hear a heartbeat, the sac and the endometrium look good and normal...good news!  So I went home with hope.  Hope that I was just one of those women who experienced spotting in pregnancy and it was no big deal.  Hope that my little baby girl was going to keep growing and growing.  Hope that maybe with a little progesterone boost, this spotting would just go away completely...

And then last night happened.  My spotting turned to bleeding.  I went to the ER again where a horribly callous nurse said "Well you're probably miscarrying, but we will send you to lab to get your levels checked and then probably send you home."  A few hours later, she called me into a tiny little office and said "Well your levels are in half...you're miscarrying.  You'll probably have cramping and heavy bleeding for around 2 weeks.  Don't come back unless your hemorrhaging or you have high fever.  The nurse will be in to discharge you."  She left.  I was numb.  I still am.  I walked out of that hospital on my own two feet knowing that my baby was gone.  She was gone and I will never know her here on Earth.  Another baby lost.  This surely can't be happening...

This morning, I'm still numb.  I am struggling with anger.  With confusion.  With this thought that maybe it's all just a horribly awful bad dream and I'm going to snap back awake any minute and have my pregnancy back...my baby back.  I just don't understand why God would allow this to happen.  After everything that we've been through in the last 18 months...why in the world would this be ok??  What happens next?  This was supposed to be our Year of Jubilee...why do I feel so hopeless and joyless and overwhelmingly sad??  How is this happening to us...again?  How can I be expected to get through this AGAIN?  The answer to all those questions is...I have no idea.  I don't know.  Somewhere deep in my soul I know God has a plan.  But today, I am questioning that plan HARD.  I am angry with Him and I don't mind saying it.  I know He thinks of things beyond my comprehension.  I know He's good.  I know His plans for me are good.  But I just can't wrap my mind around how THIS is supposed to be good.  How is THIS supposed to cause me to cling to hope rather than melt into sorrow?  How is this at all right?  Why did this happen to ME...AGAIN?

I don't know the answer to any of those questions.  I don't know what the future of our little family is right now.  I would love to continue hoping that more babies are in our future.  I can't help but imagine delivering another sweet angel into this world.  Watching him or her grow, nursing again, studying my baby as they sleep peacefully.  I can't help but hope that Greysen gets to be a big brother one day.  Y'all...he would be such an amazing big brother.  I can't help but hope that one day Jonathan gets to be a new Daddy again.  But simultaneously I can't help but wonder if I will never get to experience those joys again.  If what's in my future is either more infertility or more loss.  There are no guarantees either way...

Our little girl...our sweet Soutine...rests in the arms of Jesus right now.  She will never know pain like this.  She will never hurt or want or cry.  SO many people welcomed her home yesterday.  Her Daddy Ronchal, her Grandmommy, her Granddaddy, her sweet Bebe, her Mimol, and her big brother Aamon.  How I wish I was the one that was keeping her safe right now.  How I wish she was listening to my heartbeat.  How I wish I was listening to hers.  How I wish God had trusted me enough to mother her here.  How I wish He hadn't taken her Home.  While I know there is so much joy on that beautiful shore this morning, my heart is crushed on this side of the river.  My arms, my heart, my womb is empty today.  And I feel every single inch of that void...