It's been hard for me because so many of my friends are due around the same time that I would have been, and I just keep finding out about more. I don't want to compare myself, but anyone who has been in a similar situation knows how sensitive it can be to see someone who is as far along as you *should* have been, or who has a baby the same age as one yours would have been if you hadn't lost him/her. I experience this in our small group on Monday nights. For the most part, I love going because I get to connect with more people from church. There is a younger couple (about our age) we have become friends with. They had a miscarriage sometime last year, and they are now 13 weeks pregnant. She found out she was pregnant two weeks after my latest miscarriage. I hate myself for comparing, and I try really hard not to. But I find myself dreading group more often than not lately. Every time I go, I am faced with what we lost. Every time I sit and listen to the prayers for their baby, when it seems that people rarely pray for God to give us one. Of course, I would never wish anything bad to happen, and I also pray for the safety of their baby. I truly hope that everything turns out to be better for them than it has for us. They are kind people who will be great parents, without a doubt. In spite of all this, I still find myself crying on the way home a lot of the time. My heart aches. People say that God fills all needs, but there is a hole that will be there all my life, 3 children that I will never see on this earth. True, the hole grows smaller over time, but every once in a while, the rawness of it creeps back in. Having faith doesn't mean we don't get wounded.
All in all, I'm just sick of being in this waiting game; sick of wishing things were different; sick of hiding how I feel. The christian community can be wonderful, but there can also be a lot of judgment. Many people were supportive when they found out about the miscarriages. But now two months later, people seem to forget how hard it can be. I get comments like, "there's something to be said for smiling through the grief." On one level I know it comes from a good heart, and I know that I can't let it swallow me up or turn me into a bitter person. Neither of those things would make my life any easier. But on the other side of it, I feel like I need to let these feelings out, and I don't think I'm a worse person, or have less faith because of it. I don't have time (or opportunity) to release many of these feelings at home, and it all just comes to the surface when I get away from my regular routine (when I'm not being pulled in a million directions). Truth be told, I'm somewhat looking forward to being required to stay in bed if I get pregnant (and stay that way). I haven't had a true rest in months, and I am genuinely tired.
On a lighter note, enjoy some pictures of my latest concoctions, and just imagine the smells if you can!