A Hard Story to Write

Writing is good for me. It invigorates me and helps me process and share my experiences.

It’s not always easy, though. Sometimes the words just flow. Other times I have to drag them out or I get stuck and never finish. And more often than not, what I end up with is not what I set out to write at all.

What I really love is having written. When I’m done agonizing over the words and second-guessing myself a hundred times and finally just hit “publish”.

I have always loved writing and sharing my story but also I am deathly afraid of people seeing it. I want people to read my blog, but I also feel so exposed when all of my life is out there for all the world to see. And judge. Or comment. Or compare. Or advise…

I have friends who have published actual books and I am for real aghast that they are so chill about exposing their thoughts and inner selves to the general public. My heart is pounding just thinking about it.

Anyways, I’m working myself up to sharing a couple posts I’ve saved as drafts because they were a little too close to home to share with the world at the time of writing. And also I’m working on writing some of my current story that’s personal.

All that to say, this is a hard story to write:

This holiday season we would have announced that our family of five would be welcoming another little bundle of joy in 2022, except that I spent two consecutive nights in the ER the week before Thanksgiving being told that our baby had stopped growing at eight weeks and then returning the next day because the bleeding wouldn’t stop.

Heartbreaking is the only word to describe it. ‘Sad’ doesn’t do it justice, but ‘devastated’ is not right either. I am heartbroken for us, for all of our crushed dreams and expectations, but I am not devastated that our child is already in the arms of our Father, because I am absolutely convinced that there is no better place to be.

We had started to share our good news, and though it was difficult to make those calls and send those texts, I am so glad we did. The outpouring of prayers and love from people who cared about us was a huge comfort and so healing.

That’s one of the reasons why I’m sharing this story. Because I really believe that the idea that people shouldn’t publicly share their pregnancy until it’s “safe” comes from the enemy. And its only purpose is to isolate women and families when they’re feeling like crap during the first three months of their pregnancy and/or when they are completely heartbroken and are alone in their grief.

Talking with other people about our loss and finding out just how many people had experienced a loss like ours was eye-opening. Nearly everyone we talked to had either experienced it themselves or had a close connection to someone who had.

So I want to be a part of breaking the cycle. Let’s talk about the hard parts of life. Let’s share each other’s burdens. Let’s let people into the broken parts of our lives and pray for each other and encourage each other and challenge each other and lift each other up.

Everyone’s story of loss is different, and it’s important to see and hear each other’s stories.

It’s been weird sharing my story and sometimes being overwhelmed by emotion and other times feeling like I need to justify why I’m really ok. I’ve been in such a better place mentally and emotionally and spiritually in the last couple months than I have been in years, so when I talk to people and say I’m doing great, I really am. However, I’m also randomly overwhelmed by sorrow that shows up unexpectedly in the midst of my normal.

A good friend shared with me a couple years ago that she was learning that joy and hardship are like railroad tracks, they run parallel in your life. Her point was that it’s up to you what you focus on, but sometimes they just are. And I wish it was normalized that you can be both really happy and healthy and also still be grieving at. the. same. time.

I still have a chonky chunk of a toddler who is still a baby in so many ways to squeeze and enjoy, and two “big” boys who bring me joy everyday (and frustration, let’s be real).

Sometimes it feels like my life is equal parts ups and downs.

I have joy, peace and gratitude AND drudgery, disappointment and discouragement intermingled every single day.

But the longer I’m alive the more I realize that you either have hardship with God or hardship without Him.

And I’d much rather do life with God. Even when it’s not what I would have chosen or what I thought my life would be like.