October 15, 2015

Phase Three: Cruel October

Thank you for your continued prayer during this season of our life and phase of healing. If you are reading this post for the first time, you may refer to the Phase One for background on our miscarriage story. 

I don't believe in signs or destiny. I don't believe that "nature" or "karma" send things my way to reward or punish me. I know why bad things happen to good people. I know why there is hurt. I know why cancer exists. I know why there is death.

There is general pain caused because we live in a decaying world full of sin. And there is specific pain that is caused by my own sin.
Pain is here because sin is here.

But it's hard when that general pain feels specific.
It's hard not to feel targeted, selected even, to go through this very pinpoint pain.


When you have to take medication on October 1st to induce labor of a failed miscarriage only to learn that October is Infant Loss and Awareness month.


It's breathing through contractions only to find out that a few states away an old acquaintance is doing the same, except she is in a hospital room awaiting the arrival of a living child.

Then there is today.
Today I am waiting for the doctor to call with my blood work to confirm that this physical nightmare is complete. That the miscarriage passed "successfully."
October 15th 2015.

Do you know what today is?
Infant Loss and Miscarriage Awareness Day.

When I realized this, I allowed my jaded and sarcastic inner voice take control of my thoughts. Laughing to myself thinking "Oh I am VERY AWARE of what happened. I am very aware of my loss."

But the "awareness" is never for the person who has experienced the loss. What is sad is that as common as miscarriage is, it's not common enough for people to share it. After all even I am resorting to a blog post instead of facebook updates and phone calls.

But why raise awareness? Why take the time to document this wave of pain and dance between joy and grief? (Thank you Angie Smith for that phrase).

Because where there is pain, there is reason for comfort.
Where there is pain, there are questions for why.
And while I understand why there is pain in the world, someone out there does not. And the pain they are feeling, feels...targeted.

The word I have been using is Cruel.
It's cruel to go through a miscarriage.
It's cruel to pay an ER bill for a miscarriage.
It's cruel to lose a life I cannot bury.

Pain. can. be. cruel.

So what do I do when I live in a world with cruel pain?
What balances specific, deep, loss?
What could possibly out last my patience, withstand my screams, and embrace my brokenness?

"My flesh and my heart may fail, but God is the strength of my heart and my portion forever." -Psalm 73:26

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