It was meant to be.

I no longer believe in the phrase “It wasn’t meant to be”. I guess I grew up thinking that fate determined everything and that God had already mapped out what would happen in my life without any control of my own. I believed there was nothing you could do to prevent bad things from happening and nothing you could do to cause things to happen. They just happened. I really don’t know what influence instilled this thought process in my head because it wasn’t my church or my family. Regardless, God has been working to break down that mental block in my head for a long time and recently he’s knocked a big hole in the center of it.

 

During the past year I moved 3 times, graduated college, got married, bought and renovated a house, went on a honeymoon, tried my hand at two different jobs, got pregnant and recently suffered a miscarriage. When I say “recent miscarriage” I mean last Tuesday. I had a miscarriage last Tuesday. I went to the doctor for spotting and during the ultrasound found out my baby no longer had a heartbeat. I was scheduled immediately for suction D&C to remove any tissue related to the pregnancy so that I would not have to go through the pain and suffering of the actual process of miscarrying. Though we planned to make the physical end of the miscarriage process as painless as possible, I woke up at 2 am Wednesday morning and “labored” at home. The process had already been completed by the time of the D&C however I still had the procedure to make sure I was healthy for future pregnancies. It was literally the worst thing that has ever happened to me and it absolutely broke my heart. Though every day gets a little easier, it’s still very hard. I have nightmares, my body is still healing, and I have moments when I just sit and sob in a mix of disappointment and sadness.

 

You go through a range of emotions when you find out you are experiencing a miscarriage. You’re in denial, you accept it, you are heartbroken, you’re mad, then you’re in denial again and the cycle just repeats itself over and over. At least, that’s how it was for me. We announced our pregnancy at 3 weeks which is a no-no according to, well, everyone. We were so excited and couldn’t wait to share the news with our family and friends and we firmly believed that God was going to take care of our baby. We weren’t planning to start a family so soon- I could barely keep myself together much less be responsible for another life- but God decided to bless us anyway and we couldn’t be happier that he did. I had a relatively normal pregnancy. I shopped for my baby, got a copy of “What To Expect When You’re Expecting” and started on my prenatal vitamins right away. I also started a “Pregnancy Journal” in which I would document what was developing that week and pray for each organ. Our pregnancy brought us closer in our marriage, strengthened our faith, and forced me to completely rely on God because I had no control of the outcome.

 

When we found out we miscarried, we shared the news with all of our family and friends and received so much support. I had so many mamas reach out to me that had silently struggled with the same thing and my heart broke even more for them. I miscarried at 8 and ½ weeks. I quickly learned that miscarriage is not something people talk about but I have found the more I talk about it, the easier time I have dealing with it and that is why I felt I would share this with everyone too. I saw a quote once that said “Your most effective ministry will come out of your deepest hurts.” And well, that’s where this post comes in.

 

I know that those who have made the comments “It just wasn’t meant to be” or “It just wasn’t God’s time” are just trying to help. But, when comments are made along those lines, it not only hurts the mother that miscarried but sends a message to society about the value of life. A good friend told me early in my pregnancy that God is always present where there is life. I firmly believe that. I also firmly believe that God had a plan for my sweet baby’s life. And more than anything, I believe with my whole heart, that God did not plant that little baby in my life to cause him or her to die. Matthew 18:14 tells me that for a fact. It states, “So it is not the will of my Father in heaven that any of these little ones should perish.” I do not understand why God took my baby at 8 and ½ weeks in the womb but I do know that he had no intention of that little baby perishing. His ways are not our ways and though it’s hard to understand, I have no option but to trust he knows best. I guess what I want people to know is that my baby was not just a ball of tissue and that is why I shared that he or she had passed away. My baby had eyes. My baby had a face, ears, a nose, a spinal chord, a heart-a beating heart, hands and feet, arms and legs, kidneys, a circulatory system and even taste buds. My baby really liked apples with caramel dip and yellow cake. My baby also loved tomatoes. My baby gave me heartburn, woke me up every morning at 4 am with a full bladder, and went everywhere with me. He or she deserves to be celebrated and mourned over. He or she was a live human being with a purpose. He or she was meant to be. It was God’s time for that baby.

 

Though I will never get to meet my baby this side of heaven, I have peace in knowing where he or she is. However, so many other moms have to go through a silent struggle and silent mourning over the loss of their child whether they have a relationship with Christ or not because they never told they were pregnant to begin with. Many women have experienced miscarriages but it is a very taboo subject in society. I hope more than anything that my heart is revealed in this post and doesn’t offend anyone who have made the comments “it just wasn’t meant to be” in the past. I hope it relates to a mama that has experienced the kind of pain miscarriage brings but never said anything about it. If you have never experienced a miscarriage but know someone who has, please encourage her. Let her mourn. Let her be mad and sad and hurt. Let her talk about her baby and more than anything let her know her baby mattered. Because it did.