I entered my 30th year in a state of grief and disbelief. It wasn’t what I expected, planned for or wanted. It’s just what it was. And in this season of life, I am trying my best to embrace the bad with the good. This is my journey. This is the path God has called me to, even if I don’t always understand the “why”.
In April, halfway through this pandemic quarantine, I found myself stuck and at a crossroads in my head. I think all the time to myself to sit and reflect and think was really getting to me, and I wasn’t sure what to do. I am sure a lot of people can relate. But then I remembered the thing that has always seemed to “unstick” me in the past. With my 30th birthday fast approaching on June 1st, I decided I wanted to finish out my 20s strong and not stuck, so I committed to working out 5-6 days a week using an app on my phone and making better food choices.
In just a few short weeks, I started to feel better about myself. I felt strong. I was seeing results, and I was excited to enter my 30s confident and proud. It felt so good to take control of my life and mental health (for the millionth time). It felt like a small win.
Little did I know that exercise streak I was on would soon come to a screeching halt. 4 weeks into my workout program, I received the shock of my life.
A positive pregnancy test. The day before Mother’s Day.
I wanted to wait until Mother’s Day to test, because I had a feeling, but I didn’t want to be disappointed if it was negative.
But, to my shock, I got not one, but two strong positives.
Jared was downstairs playing an old Ninentdo game on the Wii of claymation circus animals fighting each other when I ran downstairs shaking and threw 2 sticks at him. Ha.
We both stared at them on the coffee table in disbelief. After trying for what felt like forever, all it took was quarantine I guess.
I entered this new phase of life with great apprehension though. I didn’t necessarily feel excited. I felt more nervous than anything. If anything, I have learned from my life’s experiences to not ever “expect” anything to come easy or go my way, according to my plan. Hope for the best, but plan for the worst. For better or worse.
That day, Jared and I continued working on the upstairs hallway--sanding and priming. There is so much to do, especially at our house. A 1920s home with some remodeling between the 1950s and 1990s. Well, now we felt like we had an actual time limit on when we needed everything done by. Yikes!
My early blood work came back great, and my doctor was very happy and so excited for me. I think she was more excited for me than I was for me.
A few weeks passed. I had a 7 week ultrasound scheduled for 5 days before my birthday. I was so nervous for this appointment. I knew at this point the ultrasound should show a teeny, tiny babe and a heartbeat. And for some reason, I just didn’t feel a connection to anything happening in my body. I couldn’t explain it. But surely God wouldn’t let me have a bad appointment just before my birthday. That was the only thing giving me hope, even though for whatever reason I knew exactly how the appointment would go, down to what the doctor would tell me.
Jared drove with me to my appointment, but due to COVID restrictions, he had to stay in the car. I went in alone.
After waiting for what felt like forever to be called back, it was finally my turn. I laid on the ultrasound table, praying for God to give me peace for whatever it was going to show. I knew before I knew, because the ultrasound tech didn’t say a word...only that she was going to talk to my doctor and that my doctor would be in to talk to me in a minute.
When the tech left, I sat up and stared at the ultrasound images on the screen beside me. I couldn’t see anything in the sac. I looked for even the tiniest bit of anything.
The doctor walked in a minute later, and shook her head at me. Her face was mostly covered, but I could see the sadness in her eyes. I knew. There was no baby. A gestational sac, yes, but no embryo growing within it.
She put her hand on my back and looked like she was about to cry. I told her that I had a feeling and that I mentally prepared for it, based on my last appointment. At my 5 week scan, they saw the same thing, but said it was too early to tell just yet.
We talked for a minute about a plan going forward. My doctor and the tech left the room shortly after while I got dressed. I called Jared who was sitting in the parking lot to tell him.
To be honest, I never cried. I felt numb, confused, frustrated. But I never cried.
We drove home that day and I spent that day (and much of the following couple weeks) on the couch.
Jared and I had plans to go up north for my birthday to Alpena to his family’s cabin on a lake. My appointment was on a Wednesday, we left that following Sunday. My birthday was Monday.
There are so many moments I have had in my life where I thought, “Why me?” I felt angry with God. I feel like, for the most part, I have tried to be a good person. I have tried to do good. I have worked hard on my health and overall healing. I have dealt with a lot, and if you know my story, you know.
So this...this just felt like one more, unnecessary blow. I was finally in a great head space and a good place mentally and physically at the time I found out I was pregnant. I would have been glad to remain in that space, not pregnant, if it wasn’t even going to be a viable pregnancy.
I felt defeated. Jared, who doesn’t really let much get to him, also felt defeated.
The hardest part for me was still feeling pregnant. Being sick and fatigued, but for no good reason.
I didn’t really want to face God with this. It felt better to stay angry. But as soon as Lauren Daigle's music began to play in my car on our drive home from Alpena (I swear her music is a true gift from God), it didn't take long for a sense of gratitude and humility to wash over me.
My whole life. God has always shown up. No matter what I was facing and no matter how difficult things got...
He showed up in the form of my grandmas when I needed that extra love growing up with divorced parents and splitting my time between two families. He showed up in my mom who always did her best to care for me. He showed up in Todd who always loved me like his own daughter. He showed up in my grandparents who gave me a stable home when the rest of my world seemed to be falling apart due to both my parents having rocky marriages at that time. He showed up in my mentor who led me to the absolute best therapist who helped me to share my heart with and forgive my dad, just months before he was diagnosed with terminal cancer. He showed up to help me take care of and love on my dad during his final moments at the hospital where we both worked and spent a lot of time together. He showed up in Jared to help me pick up the pieces of watching my dad pass on from this life and then burying him.
And from the time Jared and I began dating and I healed more from the pain of losing my dad, we had a few great years of peace. I thank God for that space. And I thank Him everyday for that time of growing and loving on each other and wedding planning and getting married and taking trips. Spending time on a tropical island and seeing snow capped mountains.
I know in my heart things will be okay. I know God is still showing up. Through my family and friends who have been loving on me and checking in. Through puppy snuggles and spending this time at home with Jared.
So here I am. In another season of waiting. Learning to embrace the stillness and doing my best to trust God’a plan for my life.
No mud, no lotus.