I have been pregnant 7 times that I know of. The experts will tell you, that most women are pregnant and miscarry before even realizing it several times in the span of their fertile years. After having Asa, I had an ectopic pregnancy and then months later, a miscarriage as well. I was devastated after the miscarriage and just knew we were never going to be able have another precious baby. I struggled with feelings of guilt and inadequacy. I felt as though my body had failed me and that I had failed my husband. We were blessed months later to find out we were pregnant with Asher.
When people ask me how many children I have, I always say 5 (since becoming pregnant with Karis) It is not that those two pregnancies I lost early on don't matter to me. Really they have affected each pregnancy since. It is not that I don't believe they were babies. I do. I believe they were babies, humans, souls, whatever you want to call them, from the moment of conception. I believe and have hope that one day I will meet them and know them. It just seems easier at this point in my life to say 5. I don't want to have to explain all my losses and receive looks of pity or make some innocent person feel even more uncomfortable then they already do when I mention my dead daughter. I guess I don't mention those other losses out of ease for both myself and the person asking. Of course I often share those two other losses with women who share about their own miscarriages. It is so healing to know you are not alone in that pain and fear. To know there are others who have gone before you and know the heartache of losing a baby you so longed and hoped for. It is a real physical and emotional pain to suffer miscarriage and ectopic pregnancies. It shapes our subsequent pregnancies if we are so blessed to have them. Mom's who have lost babies will relate to the fear in the first three months with a new pregnancy. Every pain or twinge or new sensation brings with it the thought you could be losing the baby again. You are more careful about what you do during those first months. Wondering if it was something you did, or something you ate, or were exposed to. The reality and fear that it did, and can happen to you are never far away. At least that has been my experience every pregnancy since suffering those early losses.
The other day I was on a field trip with Asa and a sweet mom asked me all sorts of pregnancy questions. One of her questions caught me off guard and hit a nerve. We were talking about the rough morning I had had, trying to get myself and 3 boys ready and to school by 8am. She asked me, now how many kids do you have? I said, this will be my 5th. Her response stung. She replied, yes but really 4 right? I swallowed and said well, no my daughter would be 3 now, but yes this will be my 4th child at home to take care of. It was an innocent comment, and I don't think this mama was trying to hurt my heart, yet it stung. It stung because I do, and always will consider myself a mom to Koralyn. I carried her to 39 weeks gestation. I worked hard to grow her and keep her inside as long as possible. I saw her on the sonogram screens countless times throughout my many prenatal visits, tests and never ending ultrasounds. I felt her move inside of me and we bonded just like the rest of my children. Then I spent her entire life by her side, fighting for her. Any chance I got to hold her, touch her, or care for her, I was there. I pumped milk for her. Even doing so on a packed flight while on the way to bury my mom. I learned to feed her through a tube and sat through countless discussions with doctors and nurses. Several times I sat in a tiny room for hours and waited for the phone to ring to hear the latest update from her surgeon. I held her swollen bleeding body as they unhooked her vent and she took her last earthly breath. I picked out the dress she would be buried in, one she should have worn home instead of to her grave. I laid her in her casket for the last time before the lid was closed, never to be reopen this side of heaven. I was, and I am, her mama and I will be until the day I die. So when someone naively says, oh but really you only have 4 kids right? It stings to the very depth of my mama soul. Most child loss moms would say the same thing. Their child was here, they mattered. To that family they still matter. They are loved and missed and cared for every single day.
Another comment that stings is when I will have a well meaning woman try to relate to my loss of Koralyn. I have often heard the statement, "oh I know how you feel, I have had a miscarriage myself." Now hear me when I say I know these ladies mean well. I know they are trying to relate and say something comforting, yet this statement stings as well. I think this is the other problem I have with Pregnancy and Infant Loss Awareness Month. As I said above, I believe life begins at conception. I believe every life matters and that the pain and grief of miscarriage and pregnancy loss is real and justified. Yet comparing an early miscarriage to infant loss is like comparing apples to oranges, as my Grandma would say. They are both painful and real, yet they are both very very different. As a woman who has experienced both I can attest to that. I think by bunching all of this together it really does neither justice. I was thrilled with each positive pregnancy test. I was equally devastated with each loss. Losing those pregnancies and losing Koralyn can't even begin to compare to one another. Its not that one mattered more or less, its just that it really is two very different roads. I once had a friend say, its like those ladies have lost a nail and you have lost a whole hand, and they sit across from you telling you they know exactly how you feel. Their intention is not to be offensive or hurtful, yet it is. Her analogy is a good one. This isn't to discourage you from sharing your own pain. It all matters, I think its the comparison that stings sometimes.
The closer I get to having Karis, the more I am realizing our family will never truly feel complete here on this earth. In many ways I suppose I naively thought having another daughter would do that. I know how silly that is really, it becomes more clear as the days slip away.As we come to the end of this chapter of our lives. The one in which I carry and birth babies, my heart longs to have all my children here with me. So that there aren't any stinging questions and painful absences. Even though I will only have 4 here on earth, my body shows the wear and tear of carrying 5 to full term. I worked hard to bring these 5 babies into this world and I want them all here to show for it. I suppose that is normal human nature. We don't want to exert huge effort only to have nothing to show for it. Or worse yet, only a cold stone in the ground with a name and two dates that are far too close together. Every parent prays they will out live their children. They will be able to raise and watch them flourish. A lot of parents get that privilege and yet far too many do not. We realize every day that there should be another little body in the car when we are driving everywhere. There should be another chair filled at our table every time we sit down for a meal. There should be another birthday party to plan, another bed to fill, another little person to love and hug and teach. There should be, but there isn't. Every time I look at our family photos I see the spot where Koralyn would be and my eyes long to see it in real time. My soul aches to have us all here together as it should be.
I am realizing in many ways, Karis will open up new doors of grief we never knew existed. I know I have had to work through a lot of that grief even in my pregnancy with her. I have had to work through a lot of the grief of missing my mom and wanting her here during this time in my life. I am thankful for this hard fought healing. I praise God he is giving us this gift of Karis. Just like I praise God for the gift of Koralyn and her half a heart, and my crazy boys and their whole hearts. Learning that the hard, the pain, and the grief of things can all be gifts. Learning to lean into it, instead of constantly trying to run from it. So that we can lean into our faith in Jesus who bore all of our pain on the cross. I think in many ways only those who have tasted pain and suffering can fully grasp joy and God's love for us. And who in this ever changing scary world hasn't experienced pain and loss in some way? It is impossible not to, if you live long enough.
That is when I rest in the plan of God. That He knows what He is doing. He knows our hearts ache to parent Koralyn here in our home on this earth. He knows we grieve and probably will for the rest of our lives. Yet He knows we have hope in Him and we are waiting for the day He will wipe away our tears and introduce us to our sweet Koralyn. Oh what a day of rejoicing that will be!
Last night Amos and I watched a documentary called The Drop Box. It is about a pastor in South Korea who has saved hundreds of babies by creating a drop box. A place where desperate moms can abandon their babies, knowing they will be taken in and cared for. It is a powerful testament to this pastors belief in the sacred sanctity of all life. He talks at the end of the film what led him to create this drop box. It was his extremely disabled son Eun-Man. He speaks of his pain and questioning God about why. Why did you give me this baby instead of a normal healthy one? Why me? He talks about how he now knows Eun- Man his son, was a gift from God, not a burden. How God uses what the world sees are broken and discarded and he makes it beautiful and useful. I can't put into words really what a beautiful testimony it was to the faithfulness of God in the midst of great trials and pain. How this one man has taken his pain, and what the world says is ugly and unnecessary and he has used it to save lives and glorify God. That has always been my prayer with our sweet Koralyn. That God would take our pain, and turn it into His glory. If only we could all see the way this man sees. Beauty for ashes my friends. Beauty for ashes. If you know the pain of loss, know that you are not alone. Know that you have never been alone.
Psalm 34:18
" The LORD is near to the brokenhearted And saves those who are crushed in spirit"
Job 5:18
For he wounds, but he also binds up; he injures, but his hands also heal.
