I hadn't thought about her in a long time. She would be twelve today. As the days pass and the years stretch, the wounds seem to close and heal. But in the quiet of the night, my mind tumbles back to those dark days and lonely nights.
I was twenty-two when Micayla was born. It still amazes me that God had allowed that little miracle to grow inside of me. A little over a year later, another miracle started to grow. I was twenty-three when Dale burst into our lives. Micayla, a little princess; Dale all boy. I came from a big family and wanted my children to experience the joys, laughs, stories and love of the same thing. Shortly after Dale turned one I found out I was pregnant again. I was thrilled. My due date? September 3.
Micayla looked just like me: fair skinned, blonde tuffs, big blue eyes. Dale looked like a miniature Rich; tanned skin, dark eyes, same cowlicks. Crazy. I dreamt how this one would look like. Would it favor me or Rich? Maybe this one would be a blend.
We had told the kids, told our parents and family, pretty much took out ads and billboards announcing that I was expecting again. It seemed that I had told the last person, when I started to bleed. My hands went to my throat, tears sprung to my eyes, and my heart sank to my stomach...maybe trying to protect my baby.
I went to the doctor's and sure enough, he confirmed my worst fears. I was miscarrying. I was only nine weeks along, but she was mine. She was a part of me.
As he was talking, I was quietly crying. He was saying that I could have a d&c or let the tissue pass on it's own. I said, "tissue?"
He stuttered,"uh, uh, the baby."
I looked at him and said, "baby."
He told me, "Well, I think from this point on, it will be easier to look at this as just a piece of tissue and not a baby."
I lifted my chin, tears and snot all over the place, looked him right in the eyes and said, "baby."
He nervously looked at his chart and said, "So, Mrs. LaCount, what would you like to do? Would you like to have a d&c procedure or would you like to pass the, uh, baby naturally."
I asked him how long it would take and he said that there was no way of knowing.
I went home and waited. Cried a lot. And waited. I waited for two weeks. Oh it was so hard! I was so happy when I was pregnant with Micayla and Dale! I planned the nursery, bought clothes, picked out names, plotted their future and prayed. I prayed on this one... but it was more heart wrenching prayers. "Why? How did this happen? Was it my fault? Why would you do this to me? Help me through this...."
It was two weeks after my initial visit with the Dr. when I called the nurse and complained about some symptoms I was having. She said, "you need to come in right away! I think you're hemorrhaging." Awesome.
So I drove there. With Micayla and Dale in tow. Haha, I wasn't that smart. I was delirious. Rich was at work, I didn't know what to do.
I sat Micayla and Dale on a little bench while I laid on the table. I tried talking to them and told them stories. But I just frightened them more when I broke out in sobs. So I just held out my hand for them to hold.
Having the baby die, carrying it around in me for two weeks and now losing so much blood was causing me to lose my mind. Or so it felt. The Dr. came in and performed a little procedure. The placenta was caught in my cervix...that was what was causing me to hemorrhage.
I couldn't stop crying. It seems like I had cried oceans of tears...just when I felt like I couldn't cry any more, another wave passed over me. It was awful. I sunk into a deep depression.
I know people meant well, but sometimes I really wanted to smack them. I didn't want to hear, "well at least you didn't go until full term and lose the baby then." or "There must have been something wrong with the baby." or "This is just God's will." or "At least you have two others." Well, yes I do, and I'm really thankful for them, but I wanted that one too!
Being sincere and saying "I'm so sorry" and giving a hug says a lot! Chocolate says wonders too. All the other stuff can be chucked.
The thing is, I know that God didn't do that to me. And it's ok to get frustrated when I don't understand. When I don't see His will in it all. It's ok to ask God why. He has big shoulders, He can take it. It's ok for me to be sad... it gives God the opportunity to allow us to lean on his big shoulders and be comforted. He likes it. We're His babies after all.
We may never understand why we go through trials. I don't understand miscarriages at all. I don't know why a woman gets pregnant, gets excited, only to have it taken away. A year after this miscarriage, I lost another baby. However, in 2003, a shiny, bouncing, bubbling Abrieanna came into our lives. If I had the other two babies, would I have had her? One may never know. I can't imagine my life without her.
All I know is: God doesn't waste a hurt. Genesis 50...what you meant for evil God meant for good. God will take any situation and turn it into a positive. And I'm so thankful that "...God, shield me on all sides: You ground my feet, you lift my head high." (Ps 3:3)
He has allowed me to minister to other women who have suffered through miscarriages. Of all the things I've done, of all the things I am, I am the most proud of being a mom. There is something about a baby that makes the whole world disappear. There's something about the way a child tilts her head, flashes a smile that can capture your heart all over again. It amazes me how a tiny baby can smile at your words, and your heart just beams back and it seems to that he is the brightest baby that God ever created. There is something about a child and the way they look at you, the way they look at a flower or a dandelion puff...the innocence in their wonder...that makes you feel so close to the Lord. So close to His presence, and so thankful for having been a part of His creation.
Even though I know the joy of motherhood, I also know the pain and disappointment of having that stripped away. But God doesn't waste pain. If we don't experience pain, we'd never know what healing feels like. If we've never been imprisoned, we'd never know what it truly feels like to be free. If we've never been abandoned, it's hard to know what it feels like to be reunited. God doesn't waste a hurt.
He won't waste yours. "What you meant for evil, God meant for good." Gen. 50:20
I was twenty-two when Micayla was born. It still amazes me that God had allowed that little miracle to grow inside of me. A little over a year later, another miracle started to grow. I was twenty-three when Dale burst into our lives. Micayla, a little princess; Dale all boy. I came from a big family and wanted my children to experience the joys, laughs, stories and love of the same thing. Shortly after Dale turned one I found out I was pregnant again. I was thrilled. My due date? September 3.
Micayla looked just like me: fair skinned, blonde tuffs, big blue eyes. Dale looked like a miniature Rich; tanned skin, dark eyes, same cowlicks. Crazy. I dreamt how this one would look like. Would it favor me or Rich? Maybe this one would be a blend.
We had told the kids, told our parents and family, pretty much took out ads and billboards announcing that I was expecting again. It seemed that I had told the last person, when I started to bleed. My hands went to my throat, tears sprung to my eyes, and my heart sank to my stomach...maybe trying to protect my baby.
I went to the doctor's and sure enough, he confirmed my worst fears. I was miscarrying. I was only nine weeks along, but she was mine. She was a part of me.
As he was talking, I was quietly crying. He was saying that I could have a d&c or let the tissue pass on it's own. I said, "tissue?"
He stuttered,"uh, uh, the baby."
I looked at him and said, "baby."
He told me, "Well, I think from this point on, it will be easier to look at this as just a piece of tissue and not a baby."
I lifted my chin, tears and snot all over the place, looked him right in the eyes and said, "baby."
He nervously looked at his chart and said, "So, Mrs. LaCount, what would you like to do? Would you like to have a d&c procedure or would you like to pass the, uh, baby naturally."
I asked him how long it would take and he said that there was no way of knowing.
I went home and waited. Cried a lot. And waited. I waited for two weeks. Oh it was so hard! I was so happy when I was pregnant with Micayla and Dale! I planned the nursery, bought clothes, picked out names, plotted their future and prayed. I prayed on this one... but it was more heart wrenching prayers. "Why? How did this happen? Was it my fault? Why would you do this to me? Help me through this...."
It was two weeks after my initial visit with the Dr. when I called the nurse and complained about some symptoms I was having. She said, "you need to come in right away! I think you're hemorrhaging." Awesome.
So I drove there. With Micayla and Dale in tow. Haha, I wasn't that smart. I was delirious. Rich was at work, I didn't know what to do.
I sat Micayla and Dale on a little bench while I laid on the table. I tried talking to them and told them stories. But I just frightened them more when I broke out in sobs. So I just held out my hand for them to hold.
Having the baby die, carrying it around in me for two weeks and now losing so much blood was causing me to lose my mind. Or so it felt. The Dr. came in and performed a little procedure. The placenta was caught in my cervix...that was what was causing me to hemorrhage.
I couldn't stop crying. It seems like I had cried oceans of tears...just when I felt like I couldn't cry any more, another wave passed over me. It was awful. I sunk into a deep depression.
I know people meant well, but sometimes I really wanted to smack them. I didn't want to hear, "well at least you didn't go until full term and lose the baby then." or "There must have been something wrong with the baby." or "This is just God's will." or "At least you have two others." Well, yes I do, and I'm really thankful for them, but I wanted that one too!
Being sincere and saying "I'm so sorry" and giving a hug says a lot! Chocolate says wonders too. All the other stuff can be chucked.
The thing is, I know that God didn't do that to me. And it's ok to get frustrated when I don't understand. When I don't see His will in it all. It's ok to ask God why. He has big shoulders, He can take it. It's ok for me to be sad... it gives God the opportunity to allow us to lean on his big shoulders and be comforted. He likes it. We're His babies after all.
We may never understand why we go through trials. I don't understand miscarriages at all. I don't know why a woman gets pregnant, gets excited, only to have it taken away. A year after this miscarriage, I lost another baby. However, in 2003, a shiny, bouncing, bubbling Abrieanna came into our lives. If I had the other two babies, would I have had her? One may never know. I can't imagine my life without her.
All I know is: God doesn't waste a hurt. Genesis 50...what you meant for evil God meant for good. God will take any situation and turn it into a positive. And I'm so thankful that "...God, shield me on all sides: You ground my feet, you lift my head high." (Ps 3:3)
He has allowed me to minister to other women who have suffered through miscarriages. Of all the things I've done, of all the things I am, I am the most proud of being a mom. There is something about a baby that makes the whole world disappear. There's something about the way a child tilts her head, flashes a smile that can capture your heart all over again. It amazes me how a tiny baby can smile at your words, and your heart just beams back and it seems to that he is the brightest baby that God ever created. There is something about a child and the way they look at you, the way they look at a flower or a dandelion puff...the innocence in their wonder...that makes you feel so close to the Lord. So close to His presence, and so thankful for having been a part of His creation.
Even though I know the joy of motherhood, I also know the pain and disappointment of having that stripped away. But God doesn't waste pain. If we don't experience pain, we'd never know what healing feels like. If we've never been imprisoned, we'd never know what it truly feels like to be free. If we've never been abandoned, it's hard to know what it feels like to be reunited. God doesn't waste a hurt.
He won't waste yours. "What you meant for evil, God meant for good." Gen. 50:20
(My little bundles of blessings)
