I'm reading a book right now titled, What Was Lost: A Christian Journey Through Miscarriage. One chapter raises the question, "What happened to your lost baby?" The author shares her perspective, of course, and those of other moms. Some women believe their lost babies get a "re-do" and eventually find their ways to their mommies. Some women believe their babies go to Heaven and remain infants. Some women believe their babies go to Heaven and age as they would on Earth. Some women don't believe in Heaven, but still believe their babies are at peace and well. Some women don't believe their babies were actually babies. Where do I believe my babies are? Well, scientifically speaking, they dissolved into the lining of my uterus and I flushed them down numerous toilets. (Sorry for the graphic description, but I couldn't NOT say it...can we PLEASE find a more sacred, humane way to say goodbye and miscarry a little soul?!?) Even so, I find such great peace in believing their beautiful souls were freed before I even knew they had left me. I believe they are in the arms of the Lord, still growing and thriving with Him AND my loved ones who rejoice in Heaven. I believe that God has greater work for them in Heaven while I am left to do His work on Earth. I believe they're waiting for me, and one day, I'll hold them again. Many people believe that God has a blueprint for our lives, one set destiny, one true fate. I believe God has a plan for my life and it was written well before I was born. But, I believe there's more than one master copy. He is in complete control, but has somehow entrusted in me the ability to make the choices laid before me. It's like coming to a fork in the road and having to pick path A, B, or C. He can lay it all out, but I have to decide which way to be led. For so long, my paths were so very clear and I thought I had faith--true, devout trust in Him. But lately I feel blindfolded...I know the paths are before me, but I can't seem to make them out. For someone who always has to be in control, organized, and have everything in total "balance" in order to feel content, it is simply amazing to me that even though I can't see a damn thing, I have never felt more comforted and held in my life. I'm doing it. I'm letting go and letting God. I'm really and truly letting Him lead me without butting in before He's ready for me.
I still cry. I still wake up in the middle of the night and can't breathe. I still can't turn my mind off and forget. I still panic when I realize I've gone a few minutes, or even hours, without thinking about "it," and then grow angry and frustrated that I have done something wrong by potentially forgetting. I still get angry. I still want to know why. Those feelings will likely never go away, and I don't know that I want them to. As crazy as it sounds, I think they're filling the holes in my heart that would be otherwise empty. After all, something is better than nothing. Despite all of the bad, there is so much good.
Life is still so beautiful...
