When Victory Demands All You've Got

If you've been reading my blogs, you know I've been working through a Beth Moore study called Believing God.  I finished it a few days ago and loved every minute of it.  The 16th chapter of the book is called Believing God When Victory Demands Your All.  It was a chapter that resonated so clearly and so genuinely with me that I wrote probably an entire page of notes on that chapter alone.

She spoke of Joshua and of the Israelites in battle.  Almost immediately a quote jumped off the page for me:

"The Israelites had to step out in faith and commit to the battle before they received any word from God concerning the outcome..."

And aren't we doing the same?  Haven't we been trying to keep our ears fixed on His voice and follow the path we feel Him leading us down?  Even though we have no idea what the outcome is going to look like, that's exactly what we've tried to do.  There are two possible scenarios here when it comes to the outcome of our battle.  And I don't put that word in quotes because what we've been through is most certainly a battle.  We've been beat up, beat down, stripped down to nothing.  We've walked through this battle of infertility and loss for years now.  There have been times, both in the past and recently, when we've thought maybe defeat in this realm was all we were destined to experience.  Scenario A - the walls of our infertility are gonna come crashing down and once the dust settles, we will be holding our "magnum opus" in our arms, or Scenario B - we will be defeated once again and maybe more devastatingly so this time.  But either way I'm certain we will be awestruck by the unwavering power of God in us.  Because He promised to never leave us or forsake us.  He said His power was made perfect in our weakness...

But there has been new life breathed into me and Jonathan recently.  A second wind if you will.  And I can only believe that it comes directly from His power manifesting itself in us.  It is only Him who can give us such a renewed since of hope and the grace to not grow debilitatingly bitter as we've walked this long and winding road of disappointment and loss.

"The perfect setup for catastrophic defeat is also the perfect setup for miraculous victory!"

Oh how my heart LONGS for that miraculous victory in this.  And this most certainly is the perfect setup for either catastrophic defeat or incredibly marvelous victory isn't it?  A success here would be the answer to not only the prayers of mine and Jonathan, but also so many others.  What a volley of praise there will be when we DO get to announce this victory!  I get chills just thinking about it actually...

"Sometimes God requires so much of us just so we can experience the unmatched exhilaration of partnering in divine triumph..."

One thing I've had to learn in all of this is that I may or may not be able to pin point a *reason* why things happen.  The quote "everything happens for a reason" is true, but there are times when we may never know what that reason is.  For His ways are higher than ours...His thoughts higher than our own.  But I *can* say that the build up...the anticipation associated with finding out whether this is a go or a no go really does connect me with Him on a deeper level.  I literally can't wait to see what He's going to do in this.  Because it will either be breathtaking victory where His glory will be blindingly bright, or devastating defeat where His power in me is manifested in the most perfect way that it can be...during the point in my life that I will surely experience my greatest point of weakness.  

There was a part in the book that literally brought me to tears (well...there were lots of those actually...).  Toward the end she speculates a little about God's timeline and His reasoning for doing things the way He does.  I can't explain it any better than she does:

"I'm not much for numerology, but the repetition of some numbers and their similar contexts can hardly be denied.  In Scripture seven is believed by many scholars to be the number of completion.  The creation account seems to be the paradigm.  The seven days and seven repetitions God required of the Israelites before He'd give them Jericho was a literal time frame for them, but it presents a figurative application for us.  Sometimes God requires us to follow a fair amount of repetition for a considerable amount of time until He deems a season complete.  Then all of the sudden He seems to do something profound or miraculous, and we can't figure out what changed..."

I'm not much for numerology myself, and I'm not superstitious.  But what I heard in my head is SEVEN.  Did you know that on June 2nd of this year Jonathan and I will have been married SEVEN years?  Did you know that this is will be the SEVENTH time we've made such a bold attempt to push through this infertility wall?  We've done the repetition thing.  We've been through our regime for so long now.  Going through the motions of similarity...following the plan...trying our hardest to say yes when He calls.  I can't help but feel like we are coming to the end of a "season" in our lives right now.  There is a feeling of completion and finality that is looming over us.  In 47 days this part of our journey will be over.  In something like 60 days, the last bit of this part of medical school really will be finished.  And then it's on to the next season...

My hope is solid and vivid and powerful.  There is no fear when I fix my eyes and mind and heart on Him.  When I falter (which I do often) those are the times that I lose my focus and begin speculating as to what might happen if He fails me.  And then I get snapped back into reality.  He's never failed me yet (right Mrs. Muz??)!  And I can't sit here and say that I believe there will come a day when He will.  We have prayed that if children were not in His will for us that He would take that desire away. But instead He has intensified it 100 fold over the past 5 1/2 years and I can only believe that the intensity with which He will be answering our prayers soon will be unbelievably miraculous...

"To Him who is ABLE to do immeasurably more than all we ask or imagine, according to His power which is at work within us..."-Ephesians 3:20 

His power is most assuredly at work within me right now.  It's that buzz my insides have been feeling lately I think.  And if He's planning to do immeasurably more than I have asked or can imagine...wow.  Talk about miraculous...

What You Should and Should NOT Say...

So in the years that Jonathan and I have walked this road of infertility and loss, I can't tell you the number of times I've been left somewhat agape at the kinds of things people ask and say in regards to pregnancy and "trying".  I've wanted to write this post for a long time, so here it finally is.  Don't be offended or embarrassed if you've asked me any of these yourself.  I've grown a thick skin about it all! :) At this point most of them kind of make me laugh on the inside.  Just take this as a little tidbit of "education" on the matter.  Whether you *know* a woman is pregnant, trying to conceive, or not...it doesn't matter.  Be wise in what you ask and how you ask it!

6+ Things to Never Say to Any Woman...Infertile or Not:

1) How long have you two been married? ______ <---insert your answer here.  Wow!  When are you guys gonna start a family?

Lord in Heaven.  Frankly, this question just sucks.  Because if you aren't wanting children, there's no good response.  If you're trying at the moment (no matter how long you've been trying for) the answer is awkward.  "Well as a matter of fact the hubs and I got weird on the couch this morning because we're currently trying...".  If you're in the early stages of a pregnancy but aren't wanting to reveal it yet, what the heck could you say?? If you've been dealing with infertility, the question makes you want to cry.  Either cry or be SUPER cynical.  Cynical is the route I always go in my head when this question is asked.  For instance, "Actually we hate children", or "We already are a family actually."  But what comes out of my mouth is "Whenever God decides to let it happen!".  Bottom line, just don't ask the question.  

2)  Are you guys trying??

This is a piggy back on question #1.  If you stop and think about it, that question is asking WAY more than you should be privy to in someone's relationship.  Essentially what you're asking is if the couple is having sex on a regular basis without protection.  If you reword the EXACT SAME QUESTION you are saying "Hey you two, how often are you having sex and are you wearing a condom?"  Surely you wouldn't be bold enough as to ask that question of someone.  I have to slap myself on the wrist for this one (and maybe all of these), because I've asked it before...  For shame, Rach, for shame...

3)  My friend's cousin's boss had a miscarriage.  I know what you're going through.

Welp...you don't really.  This isn't meant to be inflammatory in any way.  Neither is it meant to keep you from expressing sympathy or empathy to women who have experienced the loss of a pregnancy.  What I'm saying is that for those of us who *have* experienced loss, we know there is a large part of it that is unexplainable.  It can't be empathized with unless you've experienced it first hand.  The better response if you have never personally experienced the loss of a pregnancy?  Something along the lines of "I know I can't come close to understanding what you're going through, but I'm willing to listen if you need an ear", or "You've been on my mind and heart lately".   A sweet friend at church said the latter to me one Sunday morning *months* after our loss and she probably never knew how much that meant to me.  She said so much without saying much at all...

4)  Just relax and stop trying so hard and I bet it will happen for you guys.

No no no and again I say NO!  Ok, so maybe this little anecdote has worked on *some*.  But let me tell you, after 5 years of infertility struggles, when I hear this statement all I hear is "You probably aren't having good enough sex."  I already think it's probably something *I'm* doing to hinder this from happening.  I definitely don't need help in that department!  But the "lack of relaxation" factor kind of went out the window about 40 months ago.  Clearly it is something more than just stressed out eggs or sperm with performance anxiety.  Even if this tactic seemingly worked for you and your pregnancy, you probably *still* shouldn't say it to a woman who is distressed about her lack of success thus far...

5) You can babysit anytime you want!  *wink, wink, nudge, nudge*

This does NOT help.  Ever.  Reworded in the mind of a woman who desperately wants children but is unable to have them is this: "I have kids already and you don't.  Come borrow mine.  It will make you feel better.  My kids are awesome."  While the thought is nice, it does not help.  That's not to say that I don't love your children and wouldn't enjoy spending time with them.  But it's not a replacement for my own children.  Nor is it funny as a "tongue in cheek" type deal...

5B) Are you *sure* you want one of these?  Kids aren't all they're cracked up to be...

I know this is cynical and that you don't really mean it.  But it sucks.  It's weird.  I've told people in response to this statement "Well I would have 8 if I could have 1."  And that is the God's honest truth. I'd take a million dirty diapers and temper tantrums and crayoned walls and snotty noses over NO BABY AT ALL.  So yes, actually.  I am sure that I'm sure that I'm sure that I "want one of those".  And no I do not want to "take yours off your hands".  

6) "THE ULTIMATE NO NO!"  What if you're just not meant to have kids?

Is this supposed to be some sort of "harsh reality" type tactic to yank my head out of the clouds?  Whether you know it or not, or whether I'm willing to admit it or not, those thoughts cross my mind frequently.  And you just vocalized my worst nightmare.  What if all this pain and suffering and longing is just a farce and this is something not meant to be mine anyway?  Oh no no no no no.  This is no.  Might I arrive at this conclusion eventually?  Maybe.  Let's hope not.  Either way will it be you who helps me arrive at said conclusion?  Most definitely not... 

5 Things That You Could Say Instead

1) I was/am so sorry to hear about your loss.

It's so nice to hear someone acknowledge the loss of your child in miscarriage.  Because it really is a loss of a child.  No I never gave birth to him or held him, but he is beyond a shadow of a doubt a "real baby".  And the loss of our child was devastating.  Thank you you for recognizing the life of my baby.  For a minute I felt like a mommy...

2) *I* went through/am going through exactly what you're going through.  We had a miscarriage/ectopic pregnancy/still born/chemical pregnancy/blighted ovum/infertility/etc. too.

LADIES!!  If you encounter someone who has experienced loss similar to yours SPEAK UP!!  Infertility and pregnancy loss is such a silent struggle and it shouldn't be.  Be bold in sharing your story but be even bolder about sharing your story with those that need the solidarity the most!  It's a crappy club to be in, but it's even crappier when you feel like you're the only one in it.  Band together and hold each other up.  It was the women who came out of the woodwork to empathize with me in regards to their losses that helped me learn to deal with the hand I'd been dealt...

3) You guys are going to have some beautiful babies one day.

Thanks!  Man I LOVE this statement!  It doesn't speak to the hopelessness that many women in this boat feel.  It DOES, however, speak to the hope that one day those "beautiful babies" will be a reality!  And I LOVE speculating with people about what my babies will look like.  Will they be dark headed or bald or have that amazing Womack red hair?  Will they have blue eyes or brown eyes?  Will they be super smart or super athletic or both??  For a minute you took me out of hopelessness and brought me into hopefulness...

4)  This *is* going to happen for you guys!

Yes!  I really needed you to say that.  A brief moment happened there where I forgot my fears about losing another child.  I forgot my pain in losing the one(s) I've lost.  And I smiled on the inside because I really needed your vote of confidence.  Because most days I can't muster it for myself...

5)  You are in my thoughts and on my heart.

You could pair this with a "Please let me know if you need anything" if you're feeling inclined to deliver on that request.  But the first sentence is more than enough.  You don't even have to expand on it.  You don't have to say the word miscarriage, or loss, or baby, or infertility, or anything.  Because I know what you're referring to.  And I know you aren't trying to pry.  This statement means so very much to women going through this.  Just the reminder that someone knows you're in pain or you're struggling is soothing...

Again, I hope this doesn't upset you.  It's not meant that way.  I've been on both sides of this fence.  I've been on the "My friend lost her baby and I have no idea what to say" side, and I've been on the "I've been through this and I know what you're going through" side.  I hope this helps you to *not* avoid women you know are struggling with loss or infertility because you don't know what to say.  I hope it also helps you avoid saying the things that you shouldn't.  To any woman.  But to lighten the mood a little, I thought I would share a little story about my dad and how he learned never to ask "the wrong questions":

Daddy (at a garage sale trying to strike up a conversation with the woman who owns the home): Hi!  How are you this beautiful Saturday?

Homeowner:  Doing well!  How bout yourself?

Daddy:  Doing fine.  You guys have quite a bit you're getting rid of.  Are you moving?

Homeowner:  No.  Just trying to get rid of some stuff!

Daddy:  You must have a ton of baby stuff in the house then.  I can't believe you're getting rid of so much baby clothing when you've got one on the way!

Homeowner: *blink...blink, blink*  Sir I'm not pregnant.

Daddy (awkwardly trying to extract his foot from his mouth):  Oh, well then I'm sure your baby is beautiful!

Homeowner:  My children are 18 and 22 sir.

Daddy: *blink...blink, blink*  Ok well you have a good day then. <---power walks to car

Oh Daddy...

I Am Hannah

For me it's been comforting through these years of infertility and loss to read about women who have struggled through the same thing.  It's been empowering and calming to know that I'm not the only one who has walked or is walking this road.  It's a daily struggle.  One of the things I like to do when I'm feeling particularly "left out" of the mommy club (and it IS a club...one I desperately want to be a part of...) is to read about women in the Bible who suffered in this way.  I search out the same stories and read them over and over.

The story of Samson's mother who's womb was closed and then she received a prophesy that she would indeed conceive a child...a son who would be blessed by God and she was not to let a razor touch his head...

The story of Elizabeth who was older and had been barren her whole life.  She and her husband prayed and begged God to open her womb, and then God sent an angel to Elizabeth's husband Zechariah to tell him that Elizabeth would bear a son and they were to name him John.  John was to pave the way for the coming of Jesus...

The story of Sarai who was REALLY old and tried every which way to give Abraham children.  And was of course floored when God revealed his plan even in her old age and Isaac was conceived.  He accomplished the seemingly impossible.  She was so shocked she laughed out loud...

The story of Pharoah's daughter who eventually went on to be the adoptive mother of Moses.  She wanted a child and God answered that prayer in an unimaginable way when a baby literally floated right up to her in a basket.  A heavenly gift...

And...

The story of Hannah.  Which is my favorite.  And interestingly enough it was the topic du jour for inLightin (a children's ministry I'm involved with here in Dominica).  While I sat with two or three precious babies in my lap during the last two Friday's sessions, I couldn't help but smile at God's timing and His reassurance through scripture...

Hannah BEGGED God to give her a child.  Begged Him to open her womb.  She knelt, she wept, she wailed.  She promised that if God would grant her this request she would raise her child up in the Lord.  She would "give him back" so to speak.  Her prayers were so fervent that God granted her request and gave her a son, Samuel.  Who was a pivotal character in the Bible and indeed did live his life as an offering to the Lord.

Here's my take:

1) Don't get it twisted.  God didn't *finally* give Hannah a son because she prayed for him "correctly".  He did not grant her request because He "felt sorry for her".  No, Hannah had arrived at the place in her life where she knew the only thing she could rely on in her life's most trying hour was her God.  And I think that this was to be her time all along.  She felt that something was about to give..something was about to change in her life.  And she desperately wanted that change to be a child in her womb.  This was a time when God's desires and Hannah's desires were one in the same.  The worldly and the divine converged and then Samuel was conceived...

2) It was probably not an easy thing to say that she would give her son back to God.  In those days that meant he would live in the temple and live the life of a priest.  It was not a statement to be taken lightly.  But Hannah arrived at the truth that her conceiving a child was fully a "God thing" and she was humbled by this realization.   No matter what, her baby belonged to God.  She was simply the vessel he arrived in.  She was the person God had chosen to raise one of His creations.  And she could do nothing but be obedient to Him...

I AM HANNAH...

I can't tell you the number of times I have knelt (literally) before God and begged him for a baby.  Too many times I have cried to the point of migraines and swollen eyelids asking Him...pleading with Him to "open my womb".  I've shaken my fists at Him.  Wondered "why He gave her a baby and left me hanging".  I've yelled full voice at Him.  I've questioned His judgement.  I've even questioned His existence.  That's a hard thing to come out and say.  But I have.  God, if you're there, if you exist and you love me, then why do my insides feel like they're being ripped out and scorched because of something YOU can change??  I've asked those questions...

Why then do I *still* cling to my God even after years of disappointment, a tragic loss, and frequent bouts of hopelessness?  Why have I not written Him off and decided that He doesn't exist and/or I shouldn't bother continuing to put my faith in His plan?

Because I know that I know that I know that He is faithful.  He is EVERYTHING He's promised.  I have seen full evidence of His existence in my life.  I've seen Him miraculously heal.  I've seen Him miraculously protect.  I've felt His presence.  I've heard His voice.  I've seen His heart.  I KNOW He exists.  And I simply *have* to keep clinging to His promise that He won't leave me or forsake me.  I have to keep believing that I will find Him when I seek Him with all of my heart.  I have to continue to hear Him when he says He will grant me the desires of my heart, of *our* hearts, when we take delight in Him.  I have to understand and accept that He is the ultimate parent.  He's making the hard decisions.  His heart is breaking to see me cry...to hear me weep.  But He knows the plan...he sees the finish line...and He knows there's a beautiful story unfolding.  He won't compromise what He knows is our great adventure to come, just to keep me from crying.  He'll comfort me along the way and *still* finish what He started in me.

He knows the plan.  He's giving me little glimpses of it as we walk this road.  He is moving.  Right now.  He is moving in our lives and Jonathan and I are feeling His presence and His power right now in a real way.  We know something is about to give...

I am Hannah.  I am praying that the desires of my heart and God's plan for my life are about to come crashing together.  I am praying that in my life right now, the Divine and the Earthly are about to converge.  I'm praying for a spectacular meeting of my prayers and His plan.  For ten fingers and ten toes that remind me that the God that I serve is miraculous...

The Morning I Knew...

There is so much to write...so many stories to tell and questions to answer and contemplate.  *This* story is one of my favorites though...

So there's a part of our story of loss that I haven't shared with many.  It's at once painful and also exciting and joyful.  I spoke of the evening that Jonathan and I returned to the ER with first trimester bleeding.  But I *didn't* tell you about that morning...

Remember I told you that I had gone to the ER earlier that week.  I was sent home and told there was either nothing or everything to worry about.  Every morning after that I would drive to work with my hand on my belly.  I would talk to my little tiny baby.  "Ok baby.  Just hang in there.  It's just me and you for a minute.  We can do this.  I already love you."  His presence in my body consumed my thoughts...

But I already had that mother's intuition.  I already knew something wasn't right.  I felt like he wasn't safe in there.  Like something was off.  It was a nagging feeling.  Like nothing I can describe.  Intuition is the best word I can come up with.  The morning of September 11th, 2009 I had what I can only describe as a divine dream...

I heard a voice in my ear as plain as day in those moments between sleeping and waking.  The voice said in a calm and comforting voice, "Rachel it's time for me to take him now."  And I woke up gasping and clutching at my belly.  Trying to push something unseen away from the child inside of me.  My heart was racing.  And then that night my worst fears were realized.  But somehow I knew it was coming.  I remember calmly coming out of the restroom and telling Jonathan flatly, "I'm going to lose this baby tonight."  I knew he was already gone.  If you have ever experienced the loss of a pregnancy you probably know exactly what that feels like.  You know before anyone else does that something isn't right.  You know...

The night of September 11th came and went.  I was discharged the next morning in a daze.  I threw up a few times on the ride home.  Jonathan got me inside and into bed.  Then he ran out and got me the only two types of food that sounded good to me, watermelon and waffle fries, to see if I could keep *something* down.  I was still in a daze.  I did, thankfully, have quite a restful sleep that night.  And I had such a glorious dream.  A dream that returns to me every so often...

You see my grandfather (who I called Daddy Ronchal) passed away when I was in 8th grade unexpectedly.  He was such a happy person.  My mother tells the story of when he and my grandmother first laid eyes on me.  The two of them stood in the doorway of my nursery and held each other and cried.  He used to smoosh my cheeks together and say "Soooo sweet!" He loved me and my sister so dearly.  I often regret that I have missed out on sharing so many milestones in my life with him.  But I know he would have been ecstatic to meet his first great grandchild...

Jonathan's grandmother (who he called Grandmommy) passed away when he was 18.  She was so special to him.  She used to tell what Jonathan describes as "epic bedtime tales" that she would make up on the fly about his Horatio the Hedgehog stuffed animal.  She was quite an impactful woman.  Her influence is still felt to this day.  His Granddaddy has told Jonathan that she was the most perfect woman he's ever known.  *She* would have been head over heels to meet her first great grandchild...

So this beautiful dream...

I am walking through the doors of a house I've never been in but it seems oddly familiar.  I hear laughing and giggling and cooing.  I step into what looks like a parlor.  And in a rocking chair I see Jonathan's Grandmommy sitting and holding my sweet baby boy in her arms.  She's tickling him and kissing his little forehead.  My Daddy Ronchal is standing behind that rocking chair just smiling at Aamon and laughing and smooshing his chubby little cheeks and saying "Soooo sweet!".  They are three of the happiest people I've ever seen.  Then all three of them turn and look at me.  Grandmommy and Daddy Ronchal are just so proud.  The looks on their faces are kind of a silent affirmation of just how perfectly wonderful he is.  And my baby has the sweetest piercing blue eyes and this perfectly soft and wispy black baby hair on the top of his head.  He smiles at me.  And oh, my heart soars.  Just retelling it makes me ecstatic.  What a spectacular picture of love and hope.  And what a concrete reminder that death is not the end of the line for us.  There's more!  And from the tiny little glimpse I've seen, it's marvelous.  My angel is being loved in the most perfect place he could be.  By the hands of people who knew him as soon as he drew breath.  He doesn't hurt, he doesn't cry.  You know that tingly happy feeling you feel when you hear a good hearty baby laugh??  That is the only life my child will ever know...

Thinking about the loss of our baby is sometimes a physical pain.  My arms literally ache to hold him.  If you've seen me holding *your* child before, you've probably seen me plant kisses on their sweet little cheeks and foreheads...I can't help myself!  Getting to love *your* babies plugs that cavity for a brief moment.  The smell of the top of a baby's head is literally intoxicating to me.  Sometimes I think God intended for me to love *your* children fervently first before He sent me mine.  I am so very happy to do that.  Making children feel safe and happy makes my heart whole...

One fine day Jonathan and I will get to hold and kiss and snuggle our sweet baby boy.  I fully believe that time will not be as we comprehend it here on earth when we get to Heaven.  I believe it will seem as though no time has passed when we see him.  And what a sweet glorious day that will be...