A Weekend for Healing...

This weekend Kevin and I enjoyed another mother-son weekend. This time, the destination wasn't as exciting! I guess, technically, there was no destination. We stayed home ALL weekend. I haven't opened the front door (or the back one, either) since Chris and Ellie pulled away on Friday afternoon! But I have actually opened some old wounds, spent some time in prayer and found peace in the past.

Chris had planned and cooridinated a trip to Tahoe for one of his clubs. When I came down with the flu on Wednesday, we decided that I should skip the trip. Chris offered to stay to "take care of me", but I quickly sent Ellie and him away! However well-intentioned his offer had been, we all know that I would have likely ended up with 2 more patients by the time the weekend was over. I was still contagious at that point and didn't want to take the risk of infecting either of them! Kevin drew the short straw as I am still nursing him, so I couldn't send him away! He stayed with me in the danger zone all weekend, but so far he is showing no sign of the flu. Thank you, Purell.

I've almost gone through an entire bottle of Purell in just a few days! Which, by the way, some of you might be interested to know that Purell is not a contributing factor to the making of "super bugs" as antibacterial soap is. Apparently, Purell dries too quickly to leave any sludge for the bacteria to mutate in. Yes, I research things way too much. I know. But, now you, too, can use Purell with a guilt-free conscience.

What a great weekend we have had. LOTS of sleeping, though not much during the day. Kevin is still the king of the 30-minute nap. Sometimes he changes things up a bit and takes a longer nap, but not often! I have not been this tired in a very long time. I definitely was not even this tired when I was pregnant!

Kevin and I spent plenty of time playing and smiling at each other. He spent plenty of time spitting up also. It's a really bad habit. Today, I think he must have spit up half of the milk he drank.

More importantly, I thought about many things this weekend. Most of you know about the miscarriage I suffered in July 2006. I was almost 13 weeks pregnant when I found out the baby had died. The baby measured 12.5 weeks and looked perfect to me - fingers, toes, ribs, tummy, ears, etc. But it's heart was not beating. It was a really devastating experience for me.

This weekend, I spent some time thinking about why this had such a tremendous impact on me. I've been through more than my fair share of pain in life, but nothing had ever hit me so hard. I've realized that when this happened, I was finally at a place in life where I felt it was ok to mourn. I felt safe. So, mourn I did. And I think I mourned much more than that lost baby. I mourned all the heartache and hardship from the years passed. I let out all the demons, and I wept for them in those months.

But I haven't thought about those sad months in a long time. I remember during that time, I read some thoughts from another woman who had suffered a miscarriage. She said, "You will never stop wanting that baby back." At the time, I thought, "That doesn't really seem like me. I'm pretty positive and pretty understanding that life is sometimes tough for no reason. But I guess that's just the way it is." And I grabbed onto that quote and thought it must be true. I accepted it.

But it's not true for me. This weekend, I thought about the baby for the first time in a long time. I thought about it objectively, and I realize that the baby probably had serious problems. And if it didnt, then my body wasnt ready or able to carry it at that time, anyway. So, for whatever reason, that baby was not what I needed then.

That being said, I do believe that all babies from conception are loved by God. I loved that baby, too. But today, I love it even more for the sacrafice it made. For whatever reason, that baby and my body got together and decided that they knew better than me. That baby graciously bowed out, and gave room for my precious Kevin to be conceived. I look at Kevin every day and think "what a blessing he is." He is such a joy and brings so much love and delight into my life.

Many of you also know that the doctor who performed the surgery to remove the baby made a terrible error. She permanently damaged and destroyed one of my fallopian tubes. It was an unheard-of mistake. It, too, was devastating to me because it decreased my chances of conception in the future. At least that's the way I used to see it.

Now, I look at Kevin, and I have to see it differently. You see, had the doctor not made that mistake, it is highly unlikely that Kevin would be here today. The month Kevin was conceived, I ovulated from the side with the non-functioning fallopian tube. This means that the egg had to travel to the opposite tube, which I have been told by multiple doctors is extremely rare. So, not to get too much into the biology of it all, but if the doctor had not damaged that exact tube, the egg would not have traveled to the other tube, and therefore, would not have met up with the same sperm. At least it's very, very unlikely that the egg would have traveled there because it would have naturally fallen into the appropriate tube and met with different sperm. So, maybe I would have gotten pregnant that month, but it most likely wouldnt have been with Kevin.

So, tonight as I was fastening the final buttons in Kevin's fire engine, footed PJs, and as we laughed and giggled and stared into each other's eyes, I thought, "Maybe I should write a note to Dr. X to tell her thank you." Her mistake contributed to such a beautiful and perfect life.

I found the quote below in an from an email to family and friends that I wrote on July 19, 2006...

"I'm finally coming around to see that some good things can come from this, but to be honest, I'm still wondering, "why me". I know God has bigger plans than I know and that they are "to prosper me and not to harm me, to give me a hope and a future". With time, I guess this will all unfold into something more beautiful than my lost baby and more precious than my reduced fertility. That's my prayer, anyway."

What an answer to prayer. God certainly has bigger and better plans than I can understand. Only such a loving God can take our mistakes and turn them into a beautiful blessing. I spent a lot time over the last year and a half trying to understand why God lets such terrible things happen. In the back of mind I kept thinking back to the verse I referenced above. I know that God has bigger and better plans and that end result is not to harm me.

In the past, I have been quick to point out that no one ever thanks God when things seem to be going all wrong. And no one ever says, "Well, blame God for that." But now I'm thinking maybe that's because God doesn't cause bad things to happen. Bad things will happen, and God is there to comfort us, to help us through the pain, and to make something better of it in the end. Maybe that something better will be something tangible or maybe it will be something like a changed heart or improved character. Whatever it is, though, God wants to help us when we are in despair, and he wants to heal us. But that's so hard to accept when you're in the depths of pain.

But today, I am at the happiest point in my life. And from this mountain top, I can see the beauty of faith. Had I spent less time questioning God's plans, I would have suffered much less pain in the valley. Had I been more faithful, I would have had much more energy to love every day.

Isn't that what's life's all about anyway. Taking things as they come. Finding joy in the little things. Loving those you are fortunate enough to have in your life and being thankful for those who you were blessed enough to know. Being grateful for all those things we don't understand and being hopeful for the joys and blessings that are yet to come.

So, thank you God for loving me despite my lack of faith and for having bigger and better plans.

And thank you Dr. X for my precious baby boy.