Mourn With Those That Mourn

Whenever something bad happens in our lives, we often ask the question Why? At least, I do. You can ask my mom. At the lowest points in my life when I call her on the phone and blubber through the words, "I'm getting a divorce" or "I lost the baby", or even "The dog has diarrhea and the house stinks and I am so nauseated and what should I do" the inevitable question that I find forcing its way out of my mouth is Why?

Because a majority of the time, I really feel that if I knew the reason why, I would deal with the hard times better. That if there was a point to my suffering, then it is more manageable. That if I'm at point A, and I want to be at point C, then this crap in the middle is point B. And of course, the obvious response to the question Why is "For your good."

But, how is losing a child ever "For your good?" Wouldn't it be better to have a baby? Wouldn't it be better to have the experience of parenting and have the opportunity to provide for that child? Wouldn't it make me happier to hand my child to Eric for the first time and say, "Here you go, daddy?" What about infertility? What about good people with their lives in good places who could really provide well for a child, and who want one so badly that they would willingly walk over fire just to see two pink lines on their pregnancy test? Wouldn't it be better for them to get pregnant? Sure, maybe let them deal with it a little while, because "suffering builds character" after all. (<--Insert sarcasm here)

But be honest with yourself. I know that you have had a time when your life didn't go according to plan and you just think, "Wouldn't it be easier just to let things go right? Wouldn't it be BETTER?"

Well, I don't have the answer. I can get bogged down in WHAT IFS all day long. I don't know why any woman has to experience miscarriage, still births. I don't know why any couple has to deal with infertility or the loss of a child. I don't know why the good people always die, why your car breaks down before the most important job interview in your life, why people have to get divorced. I just don't know.

What I do know, is that my loss has opened my eyes to a world I previously did not understand, or even know about. 25-50% of all pregnancies end in miscarriage. That's a lot! Up til now, the only people I knew that had dealt with it was my Grammie, who had 3, and my aunt Kimberly, who has also had 3. My mom never had a miscarriage. I thought, "Oh, that's sad," but for some reason, I thought, "Well, that pregnancy didn't REALLY count anyway."

I'm embarrassed that I felt that way. Because it isn't the truth at all! Losing a child is losing a child. Knowing that you have life inside of you and watching that life slip away is devastating, no matter what the circumstance. I had spent my whole life watching from afar. When I learned of my then future sister-in-law's stillbirth, my first thought was, "That doesn't happen to people, does it?" Well, the fact of the matter is 1 in 160 births ends in stillbirth. The fact is, every day in the US, 2,000 women learn they have lost their child to miscarriage or stillbirth. Every. Day.

Where are these women? Who are these people? Why didn't I know more about them? Well, since my miscarriage, I have met them. I have talked to them. I have comforted them, and they have comforted me. I have read things and said to myself, "That's exactly how it happened to me!" I'm not alone. Not only strangers on the internet, but friends and family who came out and told me their experiences. Losing a baby is not something I would wish on anyone, but because of it, I have made friends. I have mourned with those who mourned, I have comforted those who stand in need of comfort. I have learned, and loved. I have laughed.

Maybe I will never know the answer to the question Why? Not a satisfactory one, anyway. But, when I read other women's stories, when I talk to them, when I listen to them, I know that maybe God gave me this trial so I would have some understanding. Maybe he gave it to me so that I never look at my sister-in-law the same way again, because every time I look at her now, I see her angel wings. Maybe he gave it to me so that when I'm angry, or frustrated, and someone says exactly the words I need to hear, I know that I am not alone. Maybe he gave it to me so that some day, when I look into my child's eyes for the first time, I will appreciate them so much more.

I have faith in my Heavenly Father's plan. I have faith because in the darkest moments of my life, despite all of the horrible things going on around me, I have felt his arms around me, radiating into me a love of a depth and breadth that I cannot comprehend. I have faith because he gave me the one woman in the world who could understand me, my beautiful mother. I have faith because when I took a leap of faith, and did my externship even though I was broke and going through a divorce and felt like the timing wasn't right for such a thing, I was given the two biggest blessings of my life, my job, and my wonderful soul mate of a husband. I have faith because as I walk through the path of life, I am introduced to people whose love and support I cannot live without. Those friends who saw I was suffering, and immediately texted me, "What's wrong?" The aunt I called when I had a miscarriage, because I needed to talk to someone who understood. The strangers who bear their testimonies to me, who encourage me to keep my head up and keep moving forward.

So, why did this all happen? Well, I am convinced that the answer is:

It happened for my good.