Well, we got our lab results back this week. Normal. Everything turned up normal. I am both relieved and frustrated by this. I am pleased that there appears to be nothing medically wrong with me. However, I feel that we are where we were before the testing...with no answers. Nothing to "fix". Absolutely no further insight as to why this has happened. Nothing.
As you can probably tell, I am feeling a bit more defeated than relieved at this time. Although I never wanted anything really terrible to be causing these losses, I guess I was hoping for some answer, something I could blame this on and then fix...easily. Instead I am left still wondering what went wrong. I'm left wondering why this happened. And probably the most frightening thought is wondering if this is going to happen again. Will I experience the loss of another child? That thought makes me sick.
After each doctor's visit, lab test, or any event that forces me to directly face our situation, I am thrown back into an unforgiving sea of sorrow, helplessness, and fear. With each wave I am slammed into a rock that tells me that I will never get out of the dark, murky water. It happens every single time. Sometimes it's short lived, other times it seems to drag on for days.
I learned the results of my tests on Tuesday and feel like I am still trying to find my way back to the shore. A place that is filled with uncertainty and sadness. But in this place I can find truth and hope when I scour the sands long enough. I believe that the shore of my life is also filled with all the wonderful feelings of joy, peace, stability, and strength. I just haven't traveled inland far enough to find them.
My sea is a dark, cold place made up of chaos and restlessness. It's seems to have no end in sight. It's a place I don't want to be. I don't navigate it well and fear I will drown with each powerful wave. My toes barely feel the sandy floor only when the water recedes in preparation for the next watery blow. But that's the only chance I have to make it back to shore. It is in those times when I have to dig my feet in as deep as I can and begin pushing forward against the undertow of failure and the rip tide of hopelessness. I have to will myself to use the demanding waves as the propeller that inches me closer and closer to my sandy destination.
On the best days the water has calmed to large swells allowing me to gently paddle my way back to the shore. The beach greets me with the warm, cushiony sands of truth and rest. As I lay on this shoreline today, exhausted and overwhelmed, I cannot help but peer out into the debilitating sea and rest in the satisfaction of defeating it yet again.
Psalm 139 7-12 says, "Where can I go from Your Spirit? Or where can I flee from Your presence? If I ascend to heaven, You are there; If I make my bed in Sheol, behold, You are there. If I take the wings of the dawn, If I dwell in the remotest part of the sea, Even there Your hand will lead me, And Your right hand will lay hold of me. If I say, "Surely the darkness will overwhelm me, And the light around me will be night," Even the darkness is not dark to You, And the night is as bright as the day. Darkness and light are alike to You."
I'll be honest, I was only going to share the last part of this, as it had been on my heart since earlier this week. However, when I went to copy this from my Bible today I was struck by the David's words about dwelling in the remotest part of the sea. Actually, I wasn't just struck, I was giddy with excitement of how God's word addresses every last situation that I find myself in...He leaves nothing out. There is no place that I have ever been or could ever go that God will be absent from.
I know that I will again find myself back in the harsh waters of the sea...a place filled with the presence of God and His desire to calm the waters and gently carry me back to the shore of His truth.
Saturday, January 21, 2012
Saturday, January 14, 2012
A Bittersweet Anniversary
I never really understood why people are often so affected by the anniversary of a traumatic event or someone's death. I had a friend in high school who mourned her grandmother's passing every year. She would reminisce and cry for a couple days, reminding us of how special and missed her grandmother was. Although I understood the reality of her sorrow, I did not understand why she was still so emotionally connected to her grandmother's death.
I was not very acquainted with loss of any kind until last year. Yes, I have lost a grandparent, my great uncle, and my father in-law. And, I still miss them and think of them. But, those experiences have not impacted me in the same way as my high school friend.
2011, however, was different. Almost one year ago I found out that I was pregnant. After four years of trying, we were finally going to be parents. Because of that one precious day I now understand what my friend experienced each year.
There is nothing I don't remember (or can't forget) about the weeks surrounding our exciting realization. I always had pregnancy tests on hand - just in case. I knew something was different this time around. Chris and I had just returned from our yearly church network conference. It was the weekend of my birthday...I hadn't been feeling well all weekend. On Sunday morning, February 27th, I decided to test. I immediately got a positive reading. Because Chris was already at church I had to call to let him know. That morning I literally fell to my knees praising and thanking God for this answered prayer. A few days later I remember telling Chris that I did not believe that God would allow this pregnancy to end in miscarriage. A few days after that, on March 3rd, I began to miscarry.
I remember my excitement, the pregnancy magazines my husband bought, and the plans we had about our soon to be nursery that filled those five precious days. I remember the physical pain, helplessness, and utter sadness that filled the next several weeks even more. I remember begging God to save our child. I remember the sleepless nights, the late night movies I watched to pass time, and the spot on the couch that I stayed for several days. I have grown to hate that couch.
Unfortunately I now completely understand how such an event has the ability to capture and hold you despite your desire to move on. How one day in your life can change you for what seems like forever. I am scared, hurt, sad, and hopeful. I am scared of facing the upcoming months and the memories that I have involuntarily associated with them. I am hurt that I seem unable to move on. I am sad that another year has gone by and despite our pregnancies we are still childless. I am hopeful that I will still become a mother. For these reasons I call this year to come "A Bittersweet Anniversary".
And not only this, but we also exult in our tribulations, knowing that tribulation brings about perseverance; and perseverance, proven character; and proven character, hope; and hope does not disappoint... Romans 5:3-5
I was not very acquainted with loss of any kind until last year. Yes, I have lost a grandparent, my great uncle, and my father in-law. And, I still miss them and think of them. But, those experiences have not impacted me in the same way as my high school friend.
2011, however, was different. Almost one year ago I found out that I was pregnant. After four years of trying, we were finally going to be parents. Because of that one precious day I now understand what my friend experienced each year.
There is nothing I don't remember (or can't forget) about the weeks surrounding our exciting realization. I always had pregnancy tests on hand - just in case. I knew something was different this time around. Chris and I had just returned from our yearly church network conference. It was the weekend of my birthday...I hadn't been feeling well all weekend. On Sunday morning, February 27th, I decided to test. I immediately got a positive reading. Because Chris was already at church I had to call to let him know. That morning I literally fell to my knees praising and thanking God for this answered prayer. A few days later I remember telling Chris that I did not believe that God would allow this pregnancy to end in miscarriage. A few days after that, on March 3rd, I began to miscarry.
I remember my excitement, the pregnancy magazines my husband bought, and the plans we had about our soon to be nursery that filled those five precious days. I remember the physical pain, helplessness, and utter sadness that filled the next several weeks even more. I remember begging God to save our child. I remember the sleepless nights, the late night movies I watched to pass time, and the spot on the couch that I stayed for several days. I have grown to hate that couch.
Unfortunately I now completely understand how such an event has the ability to capture and hold you despite your desire to move on. How one day in your life can change you for what seems like forever. I am scared, hurt, sad, and hopeful. I am scared of facing the upcoming months and the memories that I have involuntarily associated with them. I am hurt that I seem unable to move on. I am sad that another year has gone by and despite our pregnancies we are still childless. I am hopeful that I will still become a mother. For these reasons I call this year to come "A Bittersweet Anniversary".
And not only this, but we also exult in our tribulations, knowing that tribulation brings about perseverance; and perseverance, proven character; and proven character, hope; and hope does not disappoint... Romans 5:3-5
Friday, December 30, 2011
Strange Revelation
Just a quick update on where we are: Everything has healed nicely and my body recognizes that I am no longer pregnant. This is all good since it was a necessary step in starting some tests. I went today to have blood drawn for testing. This testing will check for many different issues that my be causing me to miscarry. However, often these tests come back normal and no answers are found. I find myself in an interesting place - I don't want there to be anything wrong, but I do want answers. So, I'm not really sure how to pray about this. Not sure when we will get the results. I will be sure to share when we do.
"In hope against hope he believed". That is what the Bible says about Abraham when God told him that his offspring would be as many as there are stars in the sky. Isn't it strange that even when all the evidence is against us we continue to hang onto hope. Even if it's just the tiniest bit of hope that seems so far away. We just cannot let go of it.
I wonder if that is how Abraham felt. That's how I feel. Despite what statistics say and regardless of what I have experienced so far, I constantly have this unwavering hope in my heart. I cannot explain this. But it is there. In fact, sometimes I wish it would go away...maybe then it would be easier. No, I need this hope.
I have found though that recently, despite my hope, I no longer know how to talk to God about my struggle to be a mother. I usually cannot figure out where to begin, what words to say, or even get my thoughts strait. When I am able to find my voice I just end up saying, asking, and pleading for the same things over and over again. This is so frustrating because there are no words that I could use to express to God the true desires of my heart. It's frustrating because I want God to hear my cries and acknowledge my desires.
This is what I read today:
"For in hope we have been saved, but hope that is seen is not hope; for who hopes for what he already sees? But if we hope for what we do not see, with perserverance we wait eagerly for it. In the same way the Spirit also helps our weakness; for we do not know how to pray as we should, but the Spirit Himself intercedes for us with groanings too deep for words..." Romans 8:24-26
Just as I am feeling that my hope is getting me nowhere in my prayer time with God, He assures me that the Holy Spirit is interceding for me. Really, God!?! So, when I cannot even begin to figure out how to pray the Holy Spirit is doing it for me? Yep, that's what it says. He is seeing the desires of my heart and hearing my cries and expressing them with "groanings too deep for words"...the same words that I have been unable to find for months. The Holy Spirit is going to the deepest parts of my soul in order to make my requests known to God. He is praying for me!
This is such a strange revelation for me. You see, I have read this passage many times. I have heard pastors cite it in their sermons. But, somehow only now does the meaning of this truth really come to life for me.
Remember when I talked about God being kinda funny...knowing what we need when we need it? Well, here He goes again. God knows that having hope against all hope is not easy. He knows that I do not know how to pray properly. God knows that I worry that my prayers aren't fancy enough, long enough, deep enough. That I'm afraid that I focus too much or not enough on myself. That I worry that God is just tired of me butchering my quiet time with Him. But mostly, that I'm scared that I am not expressing my heart in any comprehensible way.
I believe that God knows all of these things and that He probably sits back, shows me His truth, and then chuckles again as I let it sink into my heart. Instead of just leaving me hanging in my times of speechless worry, He sends the Holy Spirit in to pick up my slack or "help my weakness" without me even asking.
"In hope against hope he believed". That is what the Bible says about Abraham when God told him that his offspring would be as many as there are stars in the sky. Isn't it strange that even when all the evidence is against us we continue to hang onto hope. Even if it's just the tiniest bit of hope that seems so far away. We just cannot let go of it.
I wonder if that is how Abraham felt. That's how I feel. Despite what statistics say and regardless of what I have experienced so far, I constantly have this unwavering hope in my heart. I cannot explain this. But it is there. In fact, sometimes I wish it would go away...maybe then it would be easier. No, I need this hope.
I have found though that recently, despite my hope, I no longer know how to talk to God about my struggle to be a mother. I usually cannot figure out where to begin, what words to say, or even get my thoughts strait. When I am able to find my voice I just end up saying, asking, and pleading for the same things over and over again. This is so frustrating because there are no words that I could use to express to God the true desires of my heart. It's frustrating because I want God to hear my cries and acknowledge my desires.
This is what I read today:
"For in hope we have been saved, but hope that is seen is not hope; for who hopes for what he already sees? But if we hope for what we do not see, with perserverance we wait eagerly for it. In the same way the Spirit also helps our weakness; for we do not know how to pray as we should, but the Spirit Himself intercedes for us with groanings too deep for words..." Romans 8:24-26
Just as I am feeling that my hope is getting me nowhere in my prayer time with God, He assures me that the Holy Spirit is interceding for me. Really, God!?! So, when I cannot even begin to figure out how to pray the Holy Spirit is doing it for me? Yep, that's what it says. He is seeing the desires of my heart and hearing my cries and expressing them with "groanings too deep for words"...the same words that I have been unable to find for months. The Holy Spirit is going to the deepest parts of my soul in order to make my requests known to God. He is praying for me!
This is such a strange revelation for me. You see, I have read this passage many times. I have heard pastors cite it in their sermons. But, somehow only now does the meaning of this truth really come to life for me.
Remember when I talked about God being kinda funny...knowing what we need when we need it? Well, here He goes again. God knows that having hope against all hope is not easy. He knows that I do not know how to pray properly. God knows that I worry that my prayers aren't fancy enough, long enough, deep enough. That I'm afraid that I focus too much or not enough on myself. That I worry that God is just tired of me butchering my quiet time with Him. But mostly, that I'm scared that I am not expressing my heart in any comprehensible way.
I believe that God knows all of these things and that He probably sits back, shows me His truth, and then chuckles again as I let it sink into my heart. Instead of just leaving me hanging in my times of speechless worry, He sends the Holy Spirit in to pick up my slack or "help my weakness" without me even asking.
Saturday, December 17, 2011
Just Wait
God is funny. Not like haha funny, funny as in "I know exactly what you need when you need it despite what you think". And, He does. But, this is what's so frustrating to me. There are things that I want...now. There are things that I believe I am ready for...now. There are desires in my heart that want to be fulfilled...now. But, God says, "Nope, not yet. Just wait".
But, I HAVE been waiting. I have been waiting for years. And, while I wait I have been really good. I have read my Bible and gone to church nearly every Sunday. I have increased my prayer time and listen to praise and worship music on a regular basis. I have helped out at church events, talked about my faith, and even posted scripture on my Facebook page. Doesn't this all count for something? Shouldn't I get some kind of great blessing for my faithfulness? And God chuckles, "My silly daughter...just wait". Wait for what? Why God, why do I have to wait? "Just wait".
For the past several weeks I have had a difficult time reading the Bible regularly and even talking to God. I guess I feel sort of used up, and, to be honest, I'm sort of afraid of what He may say. But, the other day while waiting on a client I decided to open up my Bible app in hopes of getting an encouraging word. This is what I read, "Consider it all joy, my brethren, when you encounter various trials, knowing that the testing of your faith produces endurance. And let endurance have its perfect result, so that you may be perfect and complete, lacking in nothing" - James 1:2-4.
I have mentioned this scripture before in this blog. Funny how God continues to lead me back to this verse. A verse about endurance. What do we need endurance for? Usually something that is going to be hard and take a long time. For me, waiting is both of these things...it's really hard and it feels like it takes forever.
However, this time I really noticed the end of this passage. "And let endurance have its perfect result, so that you may be perfect and complete, lacking in nothing". Woah. A perfect result comes from endurance...from waiting. But, that is what I want. I want the perfect result. I want the really good stuff. I really, really do. But, I only wanted it on my terms. I never wanted to wait. I never wanted it to be hard. I just wanted the perfect result without all the messy stuff in the middle.
Thankfully God does know exactly what I need when I need it. God knows that without the wait there is no perfect result. God knows that I need the wait, the endurance, the trial. My faith IS being tested...I will consider it joy. I will just wait.
But, I HAVE been waiting. I have been waiting for years. And, while I wait I have been really good. I have read my Bible and gone to church nearly every Sunday. I have increased my prayer time and listen to praise and worship music on a regular basis. I have helped out at church events, talked about my faith, and even posted scripture on my Facebook page. Doesn't this all count for something? Shouldn't I get some kind of great blessing for my faithfulness? And God chuckles, "My silly daughter...just wait". Wait for what? Why God, why do I have to wait? "Just wait".
For the past several weeks I have had a difficult time reading the Bible regularly and even talking to God. I guess I feel sort of used up, and, to be honest, I'm sort of afraid of what He may say. But, the other day while waiting on a client I decided to open up my Bible app in hopes of getting an encouraging word. This is what I read, "Consider it all joy, my brethren, when you encounter various trials, knowing that the testing of your faith produces endurance. And let endurance have its perfect result, so that you may be perfect and complete, lacking in nothing" - James 1:2-4.
I have mentioned this scripture before in this blog. Funny how God continues to lead me back to this verse. A verse about endurance. What do we need endurance for? Usually something that is going to be hard and take a long time. For me, waiting is both of these things...it's really hard and it feels like it takes forever.
However, this time I really noticed the end of this passage. "And let endurance have its perfect result, so that you may be perfect and complete, lacking in nothing". Woah. A perfect result comes from endurance...from waiting. But, that is what I want. I want the perfect result. I want the really good stuff. I really, really do. But, I only wanted it on my terms. I never wanted to wait. I never wanted it to be hard. I just wanted the perfect result without all the messy stuff in the middle.
Thankfully God does know exactly what I need when I need it. God knows that without the wait there is no perfect result. God knows that I need the wait, the endurance, the trial. My faith IS being tested...I will consider it joy. I will just wait.
Saturday, December 10, 2011
When I'm Alone
As I mentioned before, life seems to be getting back to normal. Im back at work, feel good, and have been told that I look healthier and healthier each day. Several people have commented on my ability to move on so quickly; my ability to go about life as if nothing happened; my ability to talk about everything we have been through without shedding a single tear. Apparently I'm strong, a fighter.
For the most part I am able to keep myself busy. I'm usually surrounded by people or I'm with my husband. I am able to occupy my time and mind with mundane activities, job duties, and genuinely fun times with the people I love. My days are filled with client appointments, paperwork, and down time with my husband. The holidays have given me even more to do with events to attend, food to prepare, and shopping to do. So I keep busy and I do it all with a smile on my face and what appears to be unwavering strength.
But when I'm alone or I'm laying in bed trying to fall asleep with the sound of Chris off in dreamland, I realize how robotic I have become. I see how my desire to move on has pushed me to ignore the hard feelings and just be. Physically I am present but my mind and heart are far away, performing by habit. I realize that I have allowed myself to become completely cut off and although i hate to say it, bitter. And, this is exactly where I never wanted to be.
When I'm alone the numbness that has saturated my entire being begins to be replaced by a sorrow so deeply rooted that I have a difficult time trying to explain it. I find myself begging God to take away my memories of the past nine months, to erase the feelings of sorrow, shame, fear, and doubt. I beg God to have mercy on me and allow joy to penetrate to the deepest parts of my soul. I need peace. I need hope. I need a break.
I'm tired of crying alone. I'm tired of trying to be strong when I feel weak. I'm tired of remembering. I'm tired of the doubt and fear. I'm just really, really tired.
Specific prayer requests:
Pray that my heart will soften.
Pray that I will allow God in in ways that I never have before.
Pray that I will feel the strength, joy, and peace that I desire.
Pray against fear.
For the most part I am able to keep myself busy. I'm usually surrounded by people or I'm with my husband. I am able to occupy my time and mind with mundane activities, job duties, and genuinely fun times with the people I love. My days are filled with client appointments, paperwork, and down time with my husband. The holidays have given me even more to do with events to attend, food to prepare, and shopping to do. So I keep busy and I do it all with a smile on my face and what appears to be unwavering strength.
But when I'm alone or I'm laying in bed trying to fall asleep with the sound of Chris off in dreamland, I realize how robotic I have become. I see how my desire to move on has pushed me to ignore the hard feelings and just be. Physically I am present but my mind and heart are far away, performing by habit. I realize that I have allowed myself to become completely cut off and although i hate to say it, bitter. And, this is exactly where I never wanted to be.
When I'm alone the numbness that has saturated my entire being begins to be replaced by a sorrow so deeply rooted that I have a difficult time trying to explain it. I find myself begging God to take away my memories of the past nine months, to erase the feelings of sorrow, shame, fear, and doubt. I beg God to have mercy on me and allow joy to penetrate to the deepest parts of my soul. I need peace. I need hope. I need a break.
I'm tired of crying alone. I'm tired of trying to be strong when I feel weak. I'm tired of remembering. I'm tired of the doubt and fear. I'm just really, really tired.
Specific prayer requests:
Pray that my heart will soften.
Pray that I will allow God in in ways that I never have before.
Pray that I will feel the strength, joy, and peace that I desire.
Pray against fear.
Saturday, December 3, 2011
Am I a Mother?
First, I want to say thank you to everyone who has been reading this blog and praying for us. I have been so encouraged by your words and prayers. I have also been humbled and surprised by all of the stories that have been shared with me that are similar to mine...whether physical, emotional, or spiritual. Thank you all for sharing with me and walking with me through this.
I should say that I have been healing very well. I have had no complications since my surgery and everything is slowly returning to normal. We expect to return to the doctor before the new year to have some testing done. Then hopefully we can start trying again. My doctor is still very optimistic and believes that there is no reason that we cannot have a healthy pregnancy. We are so blessed to have a doctor who is great at what he does, loves Jesus, and cares for us beyond what his position has required of him.
So, I have been thinking about something for several weeks. It is a question that potentially has many answers depending on who you are and what you believe. I want to know...am I a mother? Perhaps this is a rediculous question that doesn't matter in the grand scheme of things but, for some reason it matters to me.
At this point Chris and I have lost four children...three miscarriages and an ectopic. These children never took a breath, never felt the warmth of the sun, never tasted food on their tongues, and never saw the beauty of our world. But they were alive inside me. Even if for a short time, they were alive. Does the fact that they never physically existed outside of me negate the fact that they were once growing with vigor and developing into a perfect somebody?
My children never received names. They didn't have fingerprints. Their hearts never even took a beat. But they were there with each tiny cell that was their existence. They were fighting for life with no chance of winning. Does the fact that my children were never seen or touched nullify their life as it once was?
No, I don't believe that it does. I believe that a child is a child from the point of conception. I am not going to go into all of the scientific reasons why my belief is supported. But it is my belief. I believe that each one of my pregnancies started with the life of a child. Otherwise, I was never pregnant to begin with.
So, I guess my question boils down to this. Am I a mother only if my child/children get to experience all of the things that mine did not? Did I have to look in their eyes and feel their breath to be considered a mother? Will I be a mother only after I give birth/adopt a live child?
Now, I don't expect to receive cards on Mother's Day (Chris believes that people wouldn't send them out of respect) or for people to say "go ask Nikki, she's a mom". And, that is okay. But I don't think that I am okay with the idea that I am not a mother. I fell in love with each of my children from the moment I knew I was pregnant. I did everything I could to protect them. I fought so hard for them and ended up watching as they all slipped away. I had four children inside of me and they all died. But, they were my children...I am their mother.
I know there are many people out there who will completely disagree with what I have just said. That is okay. Perhaps many will agree. I don't know. But what is important to me is that people respect my belief and allow me to acknowledge my motherhood.
Am I a mother? Yes.
I should say that I have been healing very well. I have had no complications since my surgery and everything is slowly returning to normal. We expect to return to the doctor before the new year to have some testing done. Then hopefully we can start trying again. My doctor is still very optimistic and believes that there is no reason that we cannot have a healthy pregnancy. We are so blessed to have a doctor who is great at what he does, loves Jesus, and cares for us beyond what his position has required of him.
So, I have been thinking about something for several weeks. It is a question that potentially has many answers depending on who you are and what you believe. I want to know...am I a mother? Perhaps this is a rediculous question that doesn't matter in the grand scheme of things but, for some reason it matters to me.
At this point Chris and I have lost four children...three miscarriages and an ectopic. These children never took a breath, never felt the warmth of the sun, never tasted food on their tongues, and never saw the beauty of our world. But they were alive inside me. Even if for a short time, they were alive. Does the fact that they never physically existed outside of me negate the fact that they were once growing with vigor and developing into a perfect somebody?
My children never received names. They didn't have fingerprints. Their hearts never even took a beat. But they were there with each tiny cell that was their existence. They were fighting for life with no chance of winning. Does the fact that my children were never seen or touched nullify their life as it once was?
No, I don't believe that it does. I believe that a child is a child from the point of conception. I am not going to go into all of the scientific reasons why my belief is supported. But it is my belief. I believe that each one of my pregnancies started with the life of a child. Otherwise, I was never pregnant to begin with.
So, I guess my question boils down to this. Am I a mother only if my child/children get to experience all of the things that mine did not? Did I have to look in their eyes and feel their breath to be considered a mother? Will I be a mother only after I give birth/adopt a live child?
Now, I don't expect to receive cards on Mother's Day (Chris believes that people wouldn't send them out of respect) or for people to say "go ask Nikki, she's a mom". And, that is okay. But I don't think that I am okay with the idea that I am not a mother. I fell in love with each of my children from the moment I knew I was pregnant. I did everything I could to protect them. I fought so hard for them and ended up watching as they all slipped away. I had four children inside of me and they all died. But, they were my children...I am their mother.
I know there are many people out there who will completely disagree with what I have just said. That is okay. Perhaps many will agree. I don't know. But what is important to me is that people respect my belief and allow me to acknowledge my motherhood.
Am I a mother? Yes.
Sunday, November 20, 2011
The Storm
Remember that tornado I was talking about in my last post? Well, apparently that was the calm before the storm. It has been a while since I last wrote...not sure exactly what day my last post was on, but a lot has transpired since then.
As some of you reading this already know, I had to go into emergency surgery this past Wednesday morning. At about 3am on Wednesday I woke up to severe abdominal pain. I was told that the shot I received on Sunday night at the ER would cause me pain similar to this so I just thought it was related to that. However, five hours later the pain was still as severe and a little scary. Since I was supposed to see my doctor later that day anyway we decided to call when they opened to let the know what was happening. They asked me to come in right away.
After some talking the doctor asked for yet another ultrasound to make sure that everything was okay. During the ultrasound they found that the ectopic pregnancy was still there along with some blood and a rather large cyst. Then the dreaded words, "when's the last time you ate?". My tube had ruptured and I needed surgery immediately.
What it all boils down to is this...the pain was from the large amount of internal bleeding that was happening along with this cyst. After getting inside me the doctor realized that there was no way that my fallopian tube could be saved. So, that was removed along with the cyst and all the blood.
The good news. My fertility will NOT be negatively affected by this procedure at all! Apparently two functioning ovaries can use one functioning fallopian tube...pretty amazing and a definite blessing for us.
So here I sit again confused, sad, angry, and scared. Yet, overjoyed to still have my life and the chance to create another still with me. I continue to wonder why this is all happening, but understand that I may never know and that it really doesn't matter. I wonder how all this will be used to glorify God; it just doesn't seem possible. I sit here and think that I don't want some amazing testimony or story. And then I laugh because this is usually followed up with the thought that God doesn't really care...He's doing exactly what I/us/you need to happen.
It hurts. It makes no sense. It tests me. It pushes me. But I am still going. I wake up every day. I am blessed beyond measure. I am loved.
A few more thoughts:
Blessed is a man who perseveres under trial; for once he has been approved, he will receive the crown of life which the Lord has promised to those who love Him. (James 1:12 NASB)
Therefore we do not lose heart, but though our outer man is decaying, yet our inner man is being renewed day by day. For momentary, light affliction is producing for us an eternal weight of glory far beyond all comparison, while we look not at the things which are seen, but at the things which are not seen; for the things which are seen are temporal, but the things which are not seen are eternal. (2 Corinthians 4:16-18 NASB)
As some of you reading this already know, I had to go into emergency surgery this past Wednesday morning. At about 3am on Wednesday I woke up to severe abdominal pain. I was told that the shot I received on Sunday night at the ER would cause me pain similar to this so I just thought it was related to that. However, five hours later the pain was still as severe and a little scary. Since I was supposed to see my doctor later that day anyway we decided to call when they opened to let the know what was happening. They asked me to come in right away.
After some talking the doctor asked for yet another ultrasound to make sure that everything was okay. During the ultrasound they found that the ectopic pregnancy was still there along with some blood and a rather large cyst. Then the dreaded words, "when's the last time you ate?". My tube had ruptured and I needed surgery immediately.
What it all boils down to is this...the pain was from the large amount of internal bleeding that was happening along with this cyst. After getting inside me the doctor realized that there was no way that my fallopian tube could be saved. So, that was removed along with the cyst and all the blood.
The good news. My fertility will NOT be negatively affected by this procedure at all! Apparently two functioning ovaries can use one functioning fallopian tube...pretty amazing and a definite blessing for us.
So here I sit again confused, sad, angry, and scared. Yet, overjoyed to still have my life and the chance to create another still with me. I continue to wonder why this is all happening, but understand that I may never know and that it really doesn't matter. I wonder how all this will be used to glorify God; it just doesn't seem possible. I sit here and think that I don't want some amazing testimony or story. And then I laugh because this is usually followed up with the thought that God doesn't really care...He's doing exactly what I/us/you need to happen.
It hurts. It makes no sense. It tests me. It pushes me. But I am still going. I wake up every day. I am blessed beyond measure. I am loved.
A few more thoughts:
Blessed is a man who perseveres under trial; for once he has been approved, he will receive the crown of life which the Lord has promised to those who love Him. (James 1:12 NASB)
Therefore we do not lose heart, but though our outer man is decaying, yet our inner man is being renewed day by day. For momentary, light affliction is producing for us an eternal weight of glory far beyond all comparison, while we look not at the things which are seen, but at the things which are not seen; for the things which are seen are temporal, but the things which are not seen are eternal. (2 Corinthians 4:16-18 NASB)
Subscribe to:
Comments (Atom)