Pregnant! I excitedly drove to my doctor’s office for my first ultrasound — eager to get a glimpse at the new life growing inside me. I knew the office staff well; my son was only a year old. I happily greeted the ultrasound tech and lay down on the exam table.
“How far along did you say you are?” There was a hint of concern in her voice as she stared at her monitor.
Silence. Deafening silence. The joy that I had felt was instantly sucked out of the room; replaced by a knot of anxiety.
After another minute the tech looked at me and said, “There’s nothing there.”
How can there be nothing there? The pregnancy test said I was pregnant. She had to be wrong.
“Either you’ve already had a miscarriage, or you’re going to have one soon.”
Numb, not even able to cry, I got off the table and walked out of the exam room. My doctor spoke with the tech and then turned to me.
“Either you’ve had a miscarriage or you have a molar pregnancy. Either way we need to schedule you for a D&C as soon as possible.”
Minutes before I had planned for another child and now they were telling me I needed surgery to remove it?
My head was spinning and I had no idea what to do. What I did know was that I wasn’t ready to give up hope. My God is a big God and He could fix this. I told her that I needed a second opinion and to speak with my husband.
It wasn’t until I picked up my son at my dad’s that the reality of the situation hit me. Instantly my dad knew something was wrong and his concern broke the dam of emotion inside me. Like a little girl I sobbed out my pain and fears to him, wanting him to make it all right.
As much as he would have liked to, there was nothing he could do. It was all in the hands of a different Father now.
I don’t remember telling Josh; everything over the next week was a blur of sleepless nights, anxious days and constant questions. I was scheduled for a second ultrasound at a different office. I prayed that God would repair the situation before that appointment. I went in, hoping for good news and dreading the worst. This time there was no hesitation in the ultrasound tech’s voice. “It’s a molar pregnancy. See that cluster of cells there that look like grapes? That’s it.”
So matter of fact. So non-negotiable.
That night Josh and I talked, cried, and wondered why this was happening to us. We knew people had difficulties in pregnancy, but we’d already had a successful one. We were shocked, in our naïvety, that anything could go wrong.
Calling my doctor to schedule my surgery was one of the hardest things I’ve ever had to do. I had to admit defeat. My God had not come through in the way I wanted Him to. I was angry, hurt, and scared. On August 25, 2005 I was no longer pregnant and I didn’t have a baby to bring home when I left the hospital.
The next few months were very hard for us. We were leading a college age ministry at our church and our faith in God had been shaken to the core. How could He allow this to happen to us after all we’d done for Him?
It took months for us to get over our feelings of entitlement and pride. We struggled to keep up an appearance of faith on the outside while everything within crumbled. Separately we both came to a place where we were able to trust in God again; in His love for us.
Josh’s breakthrough came one day as he struggled to prepare a sermon. He was lashing out at God, explaining his anger at the injustice of what He had allowed to happen to us. In response, Josh heard God say, “I saved you from hell.” In that moment the pain and anger that had built up inside him crashed down as he realized the sacrifice God had made for him. God had also lost a child.
For me, it was unexpectedly getting pregnant again. I turned to God, seeking peace because I knew I would be worried the whole time. Not only did God give me peace, He told me that I would have a little girl and her name was Cora Elyce. Nine months later a beautiful, healthy little girl was laid in my arms.
Why have I told this story? Not so you would feel sorry for me. It’s because this week I was challenged to define my life story statement. It’s times like the one I just detailed that confirm what I feel mine is:
The only good thing that has come out of this story is that Josh and I now have a greater compassion and empathy towards people in similar situations. It was hard; I’d rather not have gone through it. Having lived it, I now know better how to come alongside others. I’ve learned that sometimes that’s all the answer we get.
**This post is linked at Heart to Heart with Holley for “Rest of Your Story” round-up
***It’s also linked at Mylestones for Flaskback Friday
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