It has been a week unlike any I have experienced in 11 years. I kinda wish I could just skip this whole week and just go a few weeks ahead, but life doesn't work out that way does it. On July 3rd, I found out I was carrying a tiny life in me. I hadn't been pregnant in 11 years. Wow, that almost doesn't seem possible. After losing 6 babies, I didn't want to be pregnant again. A few months ago, Jeff and I decided that we should be open to the possibility of what God would want for us in the way of having more children. I got pregnant after trying only 2 months, which was a complete shock to me. It was a shock enough that I actually had Jeff go out and keep buying tests! I think I took 5 all together. I don't think I ever really got excited because I was so guarded. I wish I could write and say I'm feeling sick from morning sickness, and getting cravings, but that won't ever be. Two days ago, I lost the life I was carrying. My baby went to be with my others, and with Jesus.
This miscarriage was by far the most painful physically. After it was all over, I felt like someone had beat me up.
I think the days after are the hardest, not so much physically, but emotionally. I hate grief. I am too familiar with it. When you lose a child, it is hard to even explain the feelings. After I lost 6, I felt like I didn't look at death like anyone else I knew except Jeff. I can't even explain that in words. I tend to look at eternity a lot more than most people. I guess that happens to people to have had a lot of loss. I think about my kids, now 7 of them, 8 including Evie. I won't get to see 7 of my kids ever on this earth, but I will get to spend all of eternity with them, and with Evie, because we know Christ as our Savior. It is my hope. It is what gets me through this. I can't imagine the hopelessness for those who don't believe that way. Jeff's grandmother accepted Christ at the age of 93, 1 month before she died. She died a few weeks ago. Her husband, who is not a believer in Jesus, stood over her grave in complete hopelessness and said, "I guess this is all there is to this life." Wow. I can't imagine. He believes that he will never see her again. He believes that she died, and that is it. If I believed that way right now, I think I would want to go jump off the tallest building. My hope, the hope that comes only from Jesus, is what keeps me going through grief. The hope that those I have lost like my kids, my grandparents, a very close friend (who was like a mother to me), relatives and family friends will be with me in eternity because we accepted Christ as our Savior. This life, this short, short life, is like a vapor compared to eternity. I heard it put this way: Picture a golf ball as your life, representing about 80 or so years. Now put the golf ball in a football stadium and fill the rest of the stadium to overflowing with golf balls, each ball representing 80 years of eternity. That still won't compare to how long eternity will be! If we know Jesus as our Savior, He promised us eternal life in heaven with Him! But to have that, we have to accept Him. We can't just believe in God. The Bible says that even Satan believes in God. It is about a personal relationship with Christ. It is about allowing Him to be in control of your life. It is about making Him your Lord and your Savior. I'm so thankful for the hope that I will see my children one day, in a place where there will be no sadness, pain, sorrow or death. I am so thankful for that amazing gift of hope that Christ gave us.
I think the days after are the hardest, not so much physically, but emotionally. I hate grief. I am too familiar with it. When you lose a child, it is hard to even explain the feelings. After I lost 6, I felt like I didn't look at death like anyone else I knew except Jeff. I can't even explain that in words. I tend to look at eternity a lot more than most people. I guess that happens to people to have had a lot of loss. I think about my kids, now 7 of them, 8 including Evie. I won't get to see 7 of my kids ever on this earth, but I will get to spend all of eternity with them, and with Evie, because we know Christ as our Savior. It is my hope. It is what gets me through this. I can't imagine the hopelessness for those who don't believe that way. Jeff's grandmother accepted Christ at the age of 93, 1 month before she died. She died a few weeks ago. Her husband, who is not a believer in Jesus, stood over her grave in complete hopelessness and said, "I guess this is all there is to this life." Wow. I can't imagine. He believes that he will never see her again. He believes that she died, and that is it. If I believed that way right now, I think I would want to go jump off the tallest building. My hope, the hope that comes only from Jesus, is what keeps me going through grief. The hope that those I have lost like my kids, my grandparents, a very close friend (who was like a mother to me), relatives and family friends will be with me in eternity because we accepted Christ as our Savior. This life, this short, short life, is like a vapor compared to eternity. I heard it put this way: Picture a golf ball as your life, representing about 80 or so years. Now put the golf ball in a football stadium and fill the rest of the stadium to overflowing with golf balls, each ball representing 80 years of eternity. That still won't compare to how long eternity will be! If we know Jesus as our Savior, He promised us eternal life in heaven with Him! But to have that, we have to accept Him. We can't just believe in God. The Bible says that even Satan believes in God. It is about a personal relationship with Christ. It is about allowing Him to be in control of your life. It is about making Him your Lord and your Savior. I'm so thankful for the hope that I will see my children one day, in a place where there will be no sadness, pain, sorrow or death. I am so thankful for that amazing gift of hope that Christ gave us.
8 comments:
Hi Jen,
I was coming here to check on you, to see how you were doing. I am so very sorry for your loss... for your grief you feel. It is a natural thing... to grieve the loss of those we love, those we are separated from. Like you, I am thankful to know that the separation is temporary, and that eternity is our to share. I am praying for you, praying for your healing, physically and emotionally. Know that you loved and lifted up before our Heavenly Father.
((((((((Jen)))))))))
-Fox
Jen, I'm so sorry to hear this. I have lost a lot in my life, but never a child. I understand grieving, but I can't imagine what you are going through and can only say that I'm so glad you have your faith to help you through this extremely difficult time. As you know, I don't understand Christianity, but maybe by the time I'm 93, like Jeff's grandmother, I'll "get it" like you and Fox do. Take care of yourself and big hugs and lots of prayers for you.
Hey, Jen,
I am so sorry--I don't even know what to say. I feel like I maybe should not even comment because I do not know you very well and this is so personal, but I wanted to say how sorry I am and that I will be praying for you, that you can know God's love and nearness through all of this. I will ask my husband to pray for you, too. You are such a brave, faithful person.
Sarah (winterwren)
Jen, I've had problems with our internet otherwise I would have been here sooner. I am so sorry for what you're going through. I can't even begin to imagine your grief. I threatened to miscarry twice with my first son and I know how frightened and sad I felt then and how desperately I wanted to hold onto that baby. I know you must have felt the same and then you had the extreme grief of losing your precious child. I just hurt for you so much. But I'm glad that you have that hope that you will see your children again. I honestly don't know how people handle grief without that. I too am looking forward to that day when I will see my loved ones again as well as the siblings that I never met.
Fox -- thank you so much for your prayers, and encouragement. I appreciate it so much. I'm healing both physically and emotionally, and I know it is because of people's prayers.
April -- Thank you for what you wrote. I'll email you :)!
Sarah -- Thank you for your prayers and encouragement. And please don't ever feel like you can't comment on here! When I posted this, I hoped people wouldn't feel uncomfortable. It's funny, but I felt more comfortable sharing this with people I haven't met in person rather than sharing it with people I know. Only a very small handfull of people that see me often know. I felt like I could lay things out on my blog and share my feelings. I haven't been able to do that very well with people that see me on a regular basis. Kinda sad, but true. I really appreciate what you wrote. Thank you for that!
Jules -- Thank you. Thank you for your words of comfort. Like you, I don't know how people handle grief without the hope of Christ. I am so thankful for that hope. It is what is getting me through this. Thank you for your friendship, Jules!
Jen, I'm so, so sorry. I don't have the right words to say. All I know is this .....The Lord will comfort you..... He is our refuge and our strength, a very present help in the day of trouble.
Jen, There is just no way that I could get through my life without Him either.
I'm so sorry to hear this. It is good to know that you have the Lord to comfort you in all this.
Daisy and SM, thank you for what you wrote. Daisy, that is one of my favorite verses. I am doing better emotionally, but still have a ways to go yet. I'm so thankful for God "never leaving me or forsaking me".
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