Just something I've got on my mind as we approach mother's day. I promise to have something cute & light for tomorrow to off-set.
This month marks the 50th anniversary of the Pill.
Perhaps you read last week's Time's cover story on The Pill. So small. So powerful. And so misunderstood.
Still, all the birth control out there on the market gives us a false sense that we indeed have birth control.
When we want to get pregnant, we'll go off the Pill.
When we've had enough, we'll use protection.
When it comes to birth, we aren't in control.
I know that because while I was on the Pill, just two months after my wedding I found out I was pregnant. Like many ladies looking at the telling 2 pink lines, I felt the gamut of emotions. Running around in my head was something like this:
"and all along I thought we would choose when we'd start trying to get pregnant. and here it is. can't be undone. it just happened without us saying so."We waited to share the news until I'd almost reached end of my 1st trimester. That's what the books say to do. (I think it may have had more to do with my shock that something so significant was happening to me without my saying so.)
By the time we told the family at Thanksgiving dinner, I had moved past acceptance (we weren't even sure we ever wanted kids) and was marveling at the miracle inside of me. It no longer mattered that I wasn't the girl that always wanted to be a mom, I was in this with all of my heart.
At 14 weeks along, I went in for a routine visit. The OB was having a hard time hearing the heartbeat but over-assured us that was common at this stage. She told me to bring a recordable video to a sonogram she scheduled for the next day because we'd get our first glimpse at the baby & could it share with family.
Even when the technician told me she couldn't find a heartbeat, I laid there thinking "ok. I'll be still while you try so to find it."
It wasn't until I felt my husband squeeze my foot from where he was standing at the end of the bed and I saw the look their eyes that it hit me. The baby is no longer alive. The baby is no longer alive? But this isn't even something I was hoping for. This isn't even something I wanted. And now I want it. And now I'm attached to it. I love this baby. I love the baby they are saying I'll never mother.
I didn't know how full he made me until I was empty.
Maybe I could protect against pregnancy with the 92% effective Pill, but birth, that's another story.
Birth control belongs to the Giver of life.
And He gives and takes away.
These are the moments that test our faith.
If God is good, then why doesn't He seem fair?
The positive pregnancy test makes one girl fear her life is over and another overjoyed her life is just begun; so why not give the baby to the welcoming arms?Why are orphanage beds filled, but the woman with the pastel painted nursery & diaper-filled drawers delivers a still-born baby?
Why are healthy babies born to women that neglect them while the girl that has tried everything to have a baby remains infertile?
In my case, I quickly settled on earthly reasons why God would allow that loss. I respected life more than I did before it was taken from inside me.
Coping with the loss matured my marriage by years. The 2 pregnancies that followed & ended with my 2 children were valued far more than the accidental one.
But sometimes, it doesn't make earthly sense.
Sometimes you can't settle on a reason for the timing or the couple.
Sometimes there doesn't seem to be a lesson.
Sometimes we can't find the reason.
Sometimes it's just plain hard.
The age-old question "why do bad things happen to good people?"
It's ironic really because it's the Giver of life that is also the Prince of Peace that surpasses understanding.
After friends stop bringing dinner and family isn't calling daily, God is near to the brokenhearted.
There's this song that puts this experience into words and this song to remind us "
Our Hope Endures...
"it's more than optimism/Emmanuel, God is with us. El Shaddai, all-sufficient.
We never walk alone. This is our hope"