The two words that bring me the most excitement and leave me feeling the most unsettled, all at once.
We’re trying again.
I am so excited. I’m going to focus on that. I have been waiting for this opportunity, this time, for almost 3 months. 12 weeks of grieving my sweet son, 5 or 6 needles jabbed into me (I lost count), 8 weeks of straight bleeding, a whole 2 weeks of no bleeding (thank the Lord), then my second period (fairly normal – yay!) that I wrapped up a couple days ago, and somewhere in there, retched bladder inflammation and other girly things I won’t discuss. And we’re finally here.
J’s been gone all week on business and he gets back today. The timing couldn’t have worked out more perfectly. Assuming I ovulate–and ovulate on time–the opportune time to finally try again is between today and the middle of next week.
A quick aside: J’s so cute about it. I can tell he got a taste of being a father and now he wants it back. A couple weeks ago over dinner the topic came up and I said in passing that I know we haven’t talked about when to try again yet, something about how we were waiting on my body to pull itself together (LOL). His response–and I’ll never forget this–was, “I figured we’d go for it as soon as you’re ready.” Now those that don’t know J would read that and say no big deal, it’s just a straight up, direct dude response. Not at all. 🙂 Being his wife I can say that this is kind of a big step for him. Last summer and fall, when we were talking about when we might want to start trying, he was really nervous. He somehow coaxed me into waiting a few more months, and he didn’t want to talk about the topic too much with me. In my mind I thought, “Great, he’s going to crush my excitement and he’s not going to be comfortable trying to conceive anytime soon.” By December we decided to go for it, but even then he didn’t want to openly talk about it — whatever happened would just happen. (Guys are so weird.) Well, we got pregnant in the second month of trying and once I was knocked up, he seemed content and at peace with it. By the end of the week we found out, he sat me down and wanted to talk through what grocery items to get — every week — to make sure I got the nutrition I needed (it was really cute, by the way). [Weeks after our miscarriage when I asked him if he was hurting, which I didn’t do often, he said yes — that he had heard the heartbeat and it meant a lot to him. Guys don’t talk about this kind of hurt much, but he opened up to me for a minute when I asked.] He had become a father, and since then he has embraced it fully. So now, when I hear him say “I figured we’d go for it as soon as you’re ready” — that’s a big deal. It used to be the other way around. He’s already a father, and I can tell he’s ready to try again. Only if ever so subtlety, but isn’t that what being a wife is all about? Knowing your husband’s subtle ways? Knowing him so intimately that you get what he’s saying when he doesn’t even say it?
I know people say you’re pretty fertile right after you miscarry, and I fear that I’m letting that thought get into my head too much. For the past few weeks I’ve been kind of subconsciously assuming (expecting) that we would conceive as soon as we tried again. I know it’s not that simple, and I’m afraid I’m going to be really let down if we don’t conceive in month one. I also know many people are not that blessed, and it takes a lot just to try again — if they can at all. I’m very, very blessed. I just want to be pregnant again, to have that joy–especially now that I see it for what it is and appreciate it on a whole ‘nother level.
Here we go again…
So yes, I’m setting myself up to possibly be really sad and disappointed in a few weeks, but isn’t that what pregnancy is about, too–especially in the beginning? Finding out about your child, being excited about your child, wanting your child, connecting with your child — all the while knowing that it’s quite possible to lose this sweet person you’ve grown to desperately love? To me it’s essentially the same concept as trying to conceive. (Don’t get me wrong — it’s definitely not the same thing as the gut-wrenching feeling of losing your child. But the hope for something, the choosing of the joy instead of the worry — that’s kind of the same concept, if you will.) You hope, you pray… you FEEL the joy and excitement. Why bother with worrying and thinking that it might not work out — why bother being sad in advance? Why do that to yourself? Be excited about it!!!
I saw this quote on another person’s blog, and it really applies here:
Don’t squander joy. We can’t prepare for tragedy and loss. When we turn every opportunity to feel joy into a test drive for despair, we actually diminish our resilience. Yes, softening into joy is uncomfortable. Yes, it’s scary. Yes, it’s vulnerable. But every time we allow ourselves to lean into joy and give in to those moments, we build resilience and we cultivate hope. The joy becomes part of who we are, and when bad things happen—and they do happen—we are stronger.
So I am JOYFUL about it. I am so stinkin’ excited! I truly hope I conceive again soon, but I’m not going to let negative thoughts that I might not conceive weigh me down. It’s possible that I won’t conceive quickly, but it’s also possible that I will. In a lot of ways, I have no control over it. (Isn’t that the thing God was primarily showing me over the last few months?) I’m not going to wallow in what could possibly go wrong. I’ll take it one day at a time and deal with it if it happens — leaning on God every single moment along the way.
I found this somewhere, too, can’t remember where:
Don’t give up the fight. God’s designs are to bring a surprising verse into your heart in a surprising moment in a surprising situation and do a surprising work of transformation.
So here we go again… 🙂
May the God of hope fill you with all joy and peace as you trust in Him, so that you may overflow with hope by the power of the Holy Spirit. –Romans 15:13
Note the key point at the end of that verse — by the power of the Holy Spirit. We aren’t built to just hope on our own, based shallowly on what we wish would happen or think will happen. We are designed to rely on God and His power. Think about it — you can’t control much of what happens in life. You don’t know what’s ahead. Why have hope? Why be joyful? Going at it alone, I can see reason to not be. Yet when you have God, and you know He is in complete control, the Holy Spirit fills you with joy and hope — again and again and again — a joy and hope you could not just drum up on your own and maintain, try as you may. We cannot overflow with hope on our own! We will overflow with hope by His power alone. OVERFLOW. There is a beautiful freedom in releasing your burdens to Him. Don’t drown in them — release them to Him — and you will be free from trying so hard to be joyful on your own, trying so hard to please everyone, do everything right, to think positively, to be hopeful — especially when it’s tough. Cast your cares on Him. He cares for you.
P.S. W*, I miss you so much. I love you with all of my heart, I always will. You were — you are — my first child — you always will be. I think of you every single day, and us having more children won’t change that. In fact, it will make thoughts of you all the more present and real. I’m so filled with joy that I got to meet you, in my dream. I hope so much that God blesses me with many more dreams of you. I won’t for a second, not now not ever, forget you. I hope you know that. I know God is wrapping His loving arms around you now. I know that you are joyful, whole, and perfected in Him. You are in all of heaven’s glory, just as God planned. And I will see you again someday. It was a privilege and a joy to give you life, even if for just a few short weeks, for God’s eternal purposes. I am so proud to be your mother. I always will be. I love you, W.
*W is the child I lost on 4/20/13.