Friday, July 29, 2011

Processing the sadness...

It's been a slow week for inspiration, my friends.  In my heart, there is a need to explain this post, but I don't know if I have the right words to make myself understood.

I was pregnant, and I had a miscarriage at four weeks and four days. 

So early.  This little life that didn't even get a chance to know life.

The doctor called it a "chemical pregnancy" and said to not even treat it as a miscarriage.  As if that can take away the fact that I had four positive pregnancy tests.  A line is a line is a line is a line.  His levity was meant to lessen my grief, and in hindsight, it's only added to the difficulty of processing my sadness.

I've never hidden that I've already lost one baby.  In fact, just a few weeks ago I remembered the child that would have been four years old this year.  So many years have passed since the sharpness of that loss and grief that I've almost forgotten what that experience was like.  But that time, we'd had time to share our excitement and thus were also forced to share our grief.

This time has not been quite the same, and words cannot quite express just how confusing and difficult the emotions have been for me.  Reuben and Kaylee keep my life so busy that I barely have time to spend alone with my thoughts, and those few moments when I am allowed to feel the depth of my hurt, the pain that wells up is so great that I find I need to distract myself so not to be swallowed up in it.

And God has been faithful to provide such comfort, but if I take my gaze off of Him for even a second, it is so easy to slide back down into that great valley of darkness.

In some twist of irony, when I had found out I was pregnant, my greatest concern was how tired I would be for the next nine months, and 2 Corinthians 9:12 became my mantra, "My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness."  It seems that I'm now looking at this verse in a completely different light and relying on His strength in a completely different way.

I continue to covet your prayers.  I don't know if this post has at all explained what I need it to.  In a small way, it has helped to write it. 

Peace to you...


Jen said...

I'm so sorry to hear. No matter how early its still heartbreaking. Thinking of you...

Anonymous said...

I'm sorry for your loss, Marleah. Although your doctor was attempting to console you, his words reveal that he doesn't understand life's beginnings the same way you do. Hugs.
- Sarah Baitis

Margaret Griffioen-Drenth said...

So sorry for your loss Marleah and Tim. Holding you in our prayers. Margaret Drenth

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