October 11, 2015

Phase One: Lord I need You

There is no easy way to say this. You are going to be blindsided.

After discovering an ovarian tumor in April, I finally underwent surgery in mid-August. We hoped that this surgery would provide healing and ultimately lead to successful pregnancy in the future.
In early September we found out that it did. We found out that after seven years we were expecting.

I was progressing as normal and began to embrace all the feels and excitement. May would bring all sorts of change with college graduation and the arrival of Baby O.

Toward the end of the month I sensed something was not right.

I remember a very tender Sunday morning at church. I stood for worship and clung my hands around my aching belly. As I read the words on the screen that described how powerful our God is, how He is Able, I could feel that my body was not able. I knew, in that moment that something was wrong. I also knew that there was nothing that could be done about it. So I stood. I held my womb and sang.

“Lord I need You. Oh I need You!”

With each sting and cramp, I held on tighter. I sang louder. There was a blurry line between a heart of worship and a heart of request.

“Lord I need you. Every hour I need you!...”

He gave me a new outlook, right there standing in the dimly lit sanctuary. I can stand and mourn. Or I can stand and show my child a heart of worship. I wouldn’t know how much longer I would carry Baby O, but this baby would know worship. Looking back, I will hold that moment in my heart forever. A tender moment of worshiping with my child.

The following week would reveal that I was in the early stages of a miscarriage. We clung to Philippians 4:7 “peace in the midst of chaos” and God provided. David and I felt so strong and full of joy and peace. We developed a mind set of thanksgiving for God allowing us, choosing us to carry Baby O, even for a month. We were thankful for the opportunity after 7 years of infertility.

"Lord I come and I confess. Bowing here I find my rest."

Another week went by and I would have blood work done to confirm that the miscarriage was complete. The doctor called with the results that instead of decreasing, my blood levels had risen. This means that the miscarriage did not complete on its own.

I would need to labor at home.

"Without you, I fall apart. 
You're the one that guides my heart."

My peace was gone. My contentment was gone. What was seen as an opportunity now only seemed like cruel punishment.

After dinner one evening I went around the house tiding up. I found my most comfortable clothes. Gathered my favorite blanket. Lit my favorite candle. Took my medication to begin the contractions. It wasn’t a room on the Labor and Deliver floor. There were no nurses or excitement. Just me beside my husband working on my Greek homework to pass the time.

"Teach my song to rise to you, when temptation comes my way"

I imagine that as other women breathe through the pain of contractions they stay focused with the coming arrival of their child. Pain in the night but Joy in the morning.

Again, this experience only felt cruel.My focus was to survive through the next contraction. My goal was to be able to fall back asleep before the next wave. I had pain in the night and only mourning.

"When I cannot stand, I'll fall on You"

When we first found out about our pregnancy I quickly went to the calendar to plot the due date and trimester markings. We knew that we would have an ultrasound appointment for the heartbeat right before a trip back home to Oklahoma. It was perfect timing.

It felt like it would be forever before that ultrasound.

Then all of a sudden we were driving to Oklahoma with very different news to deliver.

"Jesus you're my hope and stay."

Like I said, you were probably blindsided by this news. For your sake and ours, we decided to keep this news to ourselves as long as we could. The honest truth of miscarriage is that few people know what to say, and we don't quite know what we want to hear. 

David and I are using this blog as we navigate through this season of healing. Even though you may not know what to say, we will always appreciate your prayers. 

The links for more recent posts can be found listed here.

Phase Two
Phase Three
Phase Four
Phase Five
Phase Six

-Renda and David. 

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