It is well with my soul

April 2, 2005, Darrell and I embraced and jumped around in excitement over the fact that positive results had just made their appearance onto a pregnancy test, after only four months of trying to conceive. Darrell wanted for me to quickly get ready because he wanted to hit every baby store within a thirty mile radius before the day was over. As I am the more sensible one in our relationship (or the party pooper as he'd probably say), I knew that we weren't going to be able to buy much if anything, considering the fact that we had only just found out and we didn't know the gender, etc. but I didn't dare ruin his plans. He was too excited. Things had changed so much since I had last had a baby. So many new things out there to see. It was a really fun day for us. Super awesome memory for my memory bank. >:0)

Our world came crashing down the last week of May of that year. At a routine ultra sound visit, all was quiet on that little screen. I knew the answer already, but I asked if the volume was turned up. She didn't have to answer out loud, because the answer was on her face, and as apparent as the silence in the room. There was no heartbeat. I can't begin to describe the overwhelming feeling that took me over before I could help it. The tears came silently before I could control them. I wasn't able to make any rash decisions that day concerning what to do next. Obviously, I wasn't expecting this and brought Lindsey and Gabriel with me so that they could see the baby. I was trying not to break down in front of them, but I couldn't help it. The grief overwhelmed my body and mind. I don't know how I made the drive to Darrell's job to let him know. I really don't. I don't remember very much of that drive aside from praying, and crying, and consoling my children who were very upset. The look on Darrell's face, upon finding out the grim news, is one that I will never forget. Devastation. I have never had a normal pregnancy, but in each pregnancy before this one, I had two very healthy babies. I discussed, with Darrell, the options that the doctor had given me. There were only two. Neither of them, great options. The doctor said that my body would naturally expel or I could have the DNC. I began to miscarry later that night. Darrell and I were making our calls, when it happened. I couldn't believe it began so quickly after just finding out the news. After nearly eight hours in the ER, most of which was spent just in waiting, an ultra sound had confirmed that it was only a partial miscarriage. I was sent home, and told to see my doctor the next day. My doctor told me that it would take three to five days for my body to expel everything. That was a sad, horrid thought. I hated my body at that moment. We chose to have the DNC, which was completed the next morning. I woke up from that DNC feeling like I had just been shoved under water and had come up gasping for air. I was very aware that I had just woken up with an empty womb, and the feeling of loss was too much to bare. Healing from grief like that is indescribable. I hated myself and I hated my body. I ate right. I took my vitamins religiously. I did what I was supposed to do, but I felt like my body had betrayed me despite my diligence. I felt like a complete failure. I begged for my husband's forgiveness, daily. With each request, he assured me that there was nothing to forgive because I had done nothing wrong. My mind wouldn't let me believe that, though. Healing from that grief was a long process. I continued being the mom and wife that I always had been. I coached Lindsey's cheer team that summer. I gave the kids big birthday parties. We went on our little summer excursions. I was a leader at VBS, and we continued to go to church every Wednesday and Sunday. Inside, though, the grief was thick.

Eventually, I decided to give it all to God. That's easier said that done, right? >:0) I did my best, though, and as I began to slowly come up out of the muck that is grief, my relationship with Christ began to grow deeper and deeper. I learned the most important lesson of my Christian life. Learning how to praise God through the storm. Sounds easy enough, but it wasn't. Today, though, my soul is well. I don't cry anymore. I don't feel loss anymore. Instead, tremendous gain. I am so thankful for every moment from the giddy baby shopping, to the silent ultra sound, to being forced to grieve through contractions, in my own bed, so that my uterus could go back to it's original size, to that precious moment up in the choir loft when the words of two songs hit me like a ton of bricks with the reality that God was wrapping His arms around me and taking care of me through every bit of it.

It is Well With My Soul

When peace, like a river, attendeth my way,
When sorrows like sea billows roll;
Whatever my lot, Thou has taught me to say,
It is well, it is well, with my soul.

chorus:
It is well, with my soul,
It is well, with my soul,
It is well, it is well, with my soul.


Though Satan should buffet, though trials should come,
Let this blessed assurance control,
That Christ has regarded my helpless estate,
And hath shed His own blood for my soul.


chorus


My sin, oh, the bliss of this glorious thought!
My sin, not in part but the whole,
Is nailed to the cross, and I bear it no more,
Praise the Lord, praise the Lord, O my soul!


chorus


And Lord, haste the day when my faith shall be sight,
The clouds be rolled back as a scroll;
The trump shall resound, and the Lord shall descend,
Even so, it is well with my soul.


chorus


Relishing in His goodness...