I was at a gathering the other night where almost half of the women were expecting, showing & absolutely glowing.  I was only there for a few minutes when it became obvious that cravings, ultrasounds and baby names were going to be the main topics of conversation that evening.  Can you blame them?  That is all I would want to talk about too if I were in their shoes! And as I stood there feeling completely out of place, most of the other women there could relate and add to the conversation because they too had experienced childbirth and had beautiful children of their own.  I know none of these girls were purposely rubbing it in my face.  In fact, some of them probably don't even know my story, and the ones who do should not be expected to walk on egg shells around me or feel like they can't talk about that hugely important part of their lives. I've gotten pretty used to these conversations because about 90% of my friends and family members anywhere near my age are now moms. Usually I am able to handle it totally fine. I truly want to be able to share their experience with them and be a part of it, just as I hope they will want to share mine with me if I get that chance. But that night, I found myself in a moment of weakness.  I tried not to let it show while I was there, but as soon as I left I broke down. I think it was just too much all at once and at an already difficult time.   

What most people don't know or have forgotten is that this week marks two very painful things for us. Three years ago, Corey and I went to the doctor for our first pregnancy visit and ultrasound.  We had known we were pregnant for about 6 weeks and were busting at the seams to finally tell our families and friends the good news on Christmas!  It was so hard to keep it a secret.  I was almost 10 weeks along. We had gotten each of our parents a little frame with a place to put the ultrasound picture and on the other side was this poem: 

Here's a little peek at me, it shows I'm on the way, 

Little grand babies like me don't happen every day.  

I'm busy growing strong and one day soon we'll meet, 

I can't wait to hug and kiss, the moment will be sweet. 

For now dream of me, and the things we'll do,

Explore, sing, laugh and play...just to name a few. 

Save a special place for me to grow inside your heart,

We will be forever friends, a love that never parts.

I hope you'll share your joy with friends both new and old.

A little grandbaby to love will soon be yours to hold.  

We just needed that ultrasound picture to put in the frame so we could wrap them up and have our parents open them on Christmas! Our excitement and anticipation that day would be met with shock and despair when our 1st ultrasound revealed that our baby no longer had a heartbeat. So rather than spending Christmas announcing and celebrating, we spent Christmas crying and trying to cope.  It is a feeling I can't explain knowing the child inside of your is lifeless and waiting nervously and helplessly for him or her to "pass."  I was terrified to use the bathroom during that time.  Two days after Christmas I had not yet miscarried so my doctor decided that I would need a d&c surgery to remove the fetus.  It was all just horrible.  That precious angel was due to be born on my birthday.  

Almost a year and a half later, we found out we were pregnant again!  You can imagine our excitement.  This baby was due the week before Christmas.  I really saw God's hand in the timing. You give and take away.  He had taken our precious baby from us at Christmas time and now He was going to bless us with a precious baby at Christmas.  A few weeks later I began bleeding heavily and miscarried at 6 weeks.  Our 2nd little angel would have likely been born almost exactly a year ago and we would most likely be celebrating a first birthday right now. I have not been pregnant again since then...almost 2 years later. 

So needless to say, as much as I love Christmas and all that it represents, there is a sting I cannot deny when this time of year comes around.  I grieve for what I have lost and for what might have been.  The last few nights I have not slept well and have been crying off and on throughout the days. I am plagued by thoughts of whether they would have been boys or girls, what they would have looked like & how great it would feel to hold them close and kiss them.  I am overwhelmed with memories of the miscarriages and the days surrounding them.  The feelings are just as real now as they were then.  My empty arms weigh heavily on my heart this Christmas. 

Yesterday I decided to get out my Bible and read the chapters surrounding Christ's birth.  I hoped maybe it would help me get my mind right and refocus back onto the Baby who came down from heaven to save my life.  It had been too long since I had read those verses and I am so glad I did.  It was so good to be reminded that as it looked to the world, Mary was pregnant out of wedlock and probably disowned by her family.  Joseph was engaged to a pregnant woman and was very likely disrespected by his people for standing by her and protecting her, when according to their law she should have been stoned.  Jesus was born in in a dirty barn.  When He was only a few days old they had to flee for their lives to avoid being killed.  As much as we like to embellish the story to make it seem oh so lovely, it was anything but.  It was messy, it was hard.  Jesus, Mary and Joseph did not have it easy.  What an unexpected comfort that is to me this Christmas.  I have been beating myself up for feeling down at what is supposed to be the most wonderful time of the year.  I often feel alone and like no one understands what I am going through.  But that is so far from the truth.  The One who was born into a filthy place, who was rejected by most He encountered, who was tempted by the Devil, who was accused of blasphemy on multiple occasions, who was betrayed, who was beaten and killed although he was completely innocent.... He understands.  There is nothing on this earth that I could ever go through that He does not sympathize with. (Hebrews 4:15) I don't think it is any surprise to The Creator of feelings that I am having feelings. I weep, He wept. I feel loneliness, He was forsaken by His own Father on the cross. I get angry, He got angry. I have jealousy, He is jealous for me. Of course He is completely sinless in His feelings and I am not. But thats another discussion for another time. What I am trying to get at is that my life does not feel like a perfectly wrapped package with a beautiful bow on top this Christmas. And maybe instead of beating myself up about it, I should be thankful. If it were, I don't know that I would truly appreciate Him this Christmas. I feel like because of the mess and the dents and the heartache, I am even more thankful He came and more aware of how much I need Him. And because I am hurting, I am able to sympathize with Him and Mary and Joseph as well. It is amazing what some time in His Word can do. I went in feeling ashamed and came out feeling like He would prefer me this way, messy and tattered and real....desperately in need of Him, rather than puffed up with pride and feeling like I have it all together.  

I hope this brings comfort to anyone reading this who may be feeling a little messy this Christmas.  Know that we have a Savior who is attracted to brokenness, to humility, to authenticity.... and who longs to heal our hearts, not our outward appearances.  He brings everlasting joy, even when temporary happiness eludes us.  Go to Him with whatever weight you are carrying.  He understands.