Even If

This was Emma. That tiny thing with the arrow pointing to baby? Yeah, there she is. This is the only picture I have of her, because I found out on March 20, 2020 that she stopped growing and I would miscarry her soon. I’ll treasure this picture of her forever.

No one really knew we were expecting. Looking back, there were and still are a lot of God winks (as I like to call them) that showed me he was there from the moment I found out I was pregnant. I think people not knowing I was pregnant was actually one, as weird as that sounds. I have been dealing with my grief the best way I know how, and for me it looks like crying alone until I’m ready to have someone cry with me. I think I’m ready now, and I want to share my story with you all in hopes that it helps someone.

If you know me personally, which I can’t imagine this thing blowing up so I’m going to take a guess and say you all know me, I struggle with anxiety daily. Ever since college, I have felt and carried the burden of Satan using my own thoughts against me. I’ve been trapped and come through it again and again in these past few years. I had recently gotten to a place where I felt like I had made it. I was stable and maybe once a month struggled, but it was nothing compared to what it used to be. And then one day I saw 2 little pink sticks on a pregnancy test, and again the anxiety hit me like a load of bricks. I won’t paint a picture to say I was never happy, but the entire time I was pregnant I was a wreck. Joyous? Of course. But only in moments. It was like I had rehearsed in my mind so many times what could go wrong, and Satan just LOVED that this go round. I would look at a chance of miscarriage percentage chart every day, watching the statistics get better. I could breathe, and then later it would come back and I would click the link again. I prayed all the time (obvi), and asked God to bless my womb and to calm my fears and trust Him. I would comfort myself with reason and logic, and eventually would get to a point where I was ok emotionally, but it would just fizzle out again. When I tell you I struggled, I really struggled.

We got to our first doctors appointment, and found out I was only 5 weeks along instead of the usual 8/10 that most women come in with. Even so, the heartbeat was strong. That’s where we got our picture. She was so tiny but for the first time I felt ok. I had peace. Of course I berated the doctor and gave myself every scientific peace of mind I could. My husband gave me a talking to on the way home, as I was in my own head, and we both discussed that my anxiety was getting too much. See, I’ve always known God and had a relationship with him through his Son, but I had never been through anything really. Nothing that ever shook me. For the first time I was having to have faith in the unseen, instead of being able to just trust and know that God is good and sovereign because he had never given me a reason to doubt. I finally came to a place where I realized that if for no other reason, I had to do some hard work and overcome this battle, because I didn’t want to literally grow a child with that pattern. I would never want my kids to get this awful trait passed down, so I made a commitment to chill- if you will.

The next few weeks were actually ok! What I came to find out was that Satan hated my praises. I could tell because when I would get to a place of meaning them, anxieties got louder. Jakeb told me one day that maybe it was because this baby would be the first in a long line of generational curses for our family, and so there was a war over my womb. I know now that there definitely was, and despite the pain, I’m glad Jesus won, because I know Emma is in Heaven with him and I’ll see her again one day. Eventually I confided in one trusted friend about the feelings I was having. I told her I was so worried and scared and kept going through all the what if’s, and that I didn’t even know if I was happy or not because I was so consumed with the fear. She encouraged me, and told me something that became my prayer to this day. She said, “My weakness (i have many) is im always worried about the “what ifs” So i made myself say “even if” instead. Im not saying God makes bad things happen (i know you know that) but even in it we can trust Him. So when you wanna say what if i miscarry, change it to even if. Even if I miscarry, Hes still God. Its still in His hands. I dont feel at all that you are gonna miscarry. As im typing this it seems like God is going to use this fear and take your relationship with Him to another level. You already have an amzing relationship with Him, i cant imagine it getting better but i see it coming.”

That was powerful to me, and got me through a lot of dark hard days. On the outside I kept it all together, but inside I had to keep taking deep breaths and remember my new prayer. Eventually, I saw my faith increase slowly but surely. It’s embarrassing to admit that, because I think people might read this and think how could she not trust God? But, I’m trying to be transparent because I know there are and will be other women going through exactly this. I would tell one trusted person here and there. I would find myself making a Pinterest board about a nursery, but only maybe one day a week. Excitement was starting to creep in. And then one night I prayed earnestly, and I asked God to give me a sign and to erase all my fear and doubts about what he could do. I pleaded with him and told him that I was so sorry, and that I hadn’t even had a bad pregnancy! I didn’t throw up once, wasn’t nauseous, and was able to work through it all. I told him that I wanted to enjoy this season and I didn’t want to tell my child one day that I wasn’t happy to be growing them because I was so consumed with fear. And he did give me a sign.

That night I dreamt of a beautiful baby girl. Of course we hadn’t picked out any names because that would give weight to the excitement I was feeling, but in my dream I saw Jakeb (my husband) approach me with the most perfect baby girl. Her face looked just like his and she smiled just like me. He handed her to me and said “Meet Emma.” And then I woke up. I immediately told Jakeb about her, and for the first time felt a peace. I thanked God, and realized it was ok. I knew it was a girl and it was like these weights of anxiety fell off for the first time in 8 weeks. I was thrilled, and told just a few more people. I had the nursery planned the next day, and even ordered some diapers off of Amazon. You can never have too many, right? It was a complete 180.

Then, the 12 week appointment came. March 20. That morning I felt a weight, but I told myself, even if, and pushed through. We went into the exam room and our doctor used a fetal Doppler. She couldn’t hear anything. I asked if that was bad and she encouraged me that it happened all the time. She sent us to an ultra sound room. I knew from the moment the screen flashed that something wasn’t right. I couldn’t hear a heartbeat, and Emma wasn’t moving. Maybe she’s asleep? I told myself everything was fine, but I saw in the sonogram technician’s eyes that they were most definitely not. I called it out and bravely said, “is everything ok?”

I’ll spare you the details of what came next, because it was just a lot of sobbing. The doctor gave me the scientific interpretation. “It’s not your fault.” “1 in 4.” “It’ll happen next time for you guys, there’s a 95% chance.” I sent a mass text to those that knew right then and there, because I didn’t want to deal with it later. I asked for them not to call me- I wanted to be alone. But that was Satan, too. Over the next hours, I started fighting that feeling too. I tried to sleep, but just kept crying. I finally prayed, and told God how I felt.

“How could you do this God? You knew how dedicated Jakeb and I were to giving this child a life of knowing you and doing things for you. I truly meant that, and you took it away? Why would you do that? And look what you did!! That’s not nice of you to comfort me and then rip it completely away. How could you let my worst fear come true? How do you even expect me to pick up from this? I’ve dealt with these anxieties forEVER, and today they won? That doesn’t seem good. You can’t be good.”

Typing that out feels bad, but it’s where I was. I know God heard me, and immediately he recalled to my mind the Bible study I had been doing for weeks through the book of Job. He used that later in a big way, and I’ll get there in a second. I took the week off work, and so did Jakeb, and we sat and cried a lot. We questioned, prayed, wondered, and watched a lot of Netflix. It didn’t feel good to have to try to trust the unseen all over again, but it was necessary.

Today I sit here, still crying and still trying to trust the unseen, but with a lot of comfort and knowledge of who he is through this under my belt. I’ve learned a lot and I need to share. If you’ve made it to this point, congrats, you’ve dealt with my rambling. Here’s the real meat of my story:

1) God taught me how to be a better friend through this. Remember my bible study of Job? Yeah, I’m so glad I don’t have his friends. To the people who came and cried with me (even in the middle of a pandemic, yeah, that’s been going on too….), sent flowers, sent gifts, sent kind words and prayers, and listened to me when I made no sense- THANK YOU. God showed me his goodness and love through you all, and it truly has taught me that you need people to hold you up when you cannot actually do it yourself. I hope that one day I can be half the givers that you all have been to me and Jakeb.

2) God has taught me more about who he is than ever before through this. I once heard that suffering is the megaphone of God, and boyyy is that true. When everything is moved aside and you have no choice but to ask him what he’s doing, he’ll show you. It only took a miscarriage and pandemic, but I know God more fully and love him so much more than I ever thought possible because of this. If you want to know what specifically I’ve learned, I would love to chat with you, but specifically listen to my husband’s sermon that he gave today. I asked him to put my 2 points in there and he did a fantastic job. I’ll link it at the end. I know I still have much to learn, and I would love to know what you have learned if you have walked through something as well.

3) I have learned that motherhood looks different for everyone. I’m still Emma’s mommy whether I have her physically or not. I have such a new appreciation for the female body and what it can withstand. I have a brand new compassion for women like never before. In the middle of all of this, it was hearing other women’s stories of what they went through physically and emotionally that kept me going. Somehow it seems and feels embarrassing to admit that your body failed you, so I think that’s why you never hear much about others miscarrying. I can only pray that I can be a resource for another woman going through this one day. For now, if you are struggling with infertility or loss, please know that IT IS NORMAL. Normal doesn’t mean it’s good or fair, but it does mean you’re not alone. Don’t let yourself slip into that thought or feeling. Reach out, when you’re ready of course. I promise in the thick of it (and some days I’m still there), it doesn’t feel like it is normal or ok or that there’s light at the end. I don’t have a physical baby yet, but I have an angel one. I know I will see her face again, but for now I will keep her memory alive by helping others and sharing my story.

I would ask that if you want to know how to pray, you would pray for me and my anxieties. They’re not gone, and they feel heavy heavy heavy some days. I know that Satan will only come back stronger whenever I am pregnant again, so I would ask that you all join me and storm Heaven on my behalf, asking that I would be able to be prepared for that. That’s really all we can do. And in the mean time, pray that I would be able to trust the unseen during this and through this.