Well, I've been out all week because I got the devastating news that I have had a molar pregnancy.
In case you don't know what that is, you can click on this link here and find out. I am still waiting to hear back on the lab results from what was extracted from my d & c yesterday, but the doctor seemed certain that what I had was a partial molar pregnancy.
Right now, I am trying to focus on recovering from surgery and resting as much as possible.
I spent all day Wednesday crying.
I feel like my body has betrayed me. For the next six months to a year, I will have to be retested to make sure that the mole hasn't grown back and that it's not cancerous. We won't even be able to try to have another baby for at least a year or two and at that point, there is a possibility of a repeat of the molar pregnancy. Obviously we will have time to discuss this and decide what to do, but by then I will be 36 and I'm not sure I will want to have another baby. There are so many more risks the older you get (and the more previous pregnancies you've had).
Plus, I just endured the worst nine weeks of my life with the worst morning sickness I've ever had (worsened by the molar pregnancy, actually) and I'm not sure I want to go through being that sick for that long ever again. One of the nicest things about today as opposed to two days ago is that everything sounds good and I can eat whatever I want without gagging or actually throwing up. I can even skip eating and still not gag.
So is God trying to tell us that we're done? I'll be honest here. I haven't heard much from His end lately. Believe me, I've tried. But it's like making a phone call with nothing but static on the other end. I have gotten no feelings one way or the other about anything I've prayed about. I had several priesthood blessings over the course of the last several weeks and I don't think one of them helped. My faith is being tested and I am failing. God may be a God of miracles, but not in my case. And if He cares so much, then why do I feel so empty like He's so far away?
You know what the hardest part has been? Explaining to my children how they are NOT going to have another brother or sister next June and how it's possible they may not ever have another brother or sister again. They were quite upset.
I think this is the hardest thing I've ever had to deal with in my life. I'm not sure I'll be able to keep my footing. I guess I don't understand, in a world of sin and thoughtless sex and careless parents, why God would deny me the chance to raise a baby up right? I'm angry and bitter and just very sad.
3 comments:
Jenna, I feel so sad for you right now. I went through a miscarriage last November when I was 13 weeks along. My husband was in Saudi Arabia at the time when I went in for an ultrasound and discovered that my baby had died. It was the most horrible thing having to sit alone in that office, hearing the empty silence where a heart was supposed to beat. I had to go home and tell my children that the baby they longed for wasn't coming to our family. I had to call people for help and inform that I was pregnant but was going to be losing the baby, Because I didn't know if my husband would get back in time. We were lucky, he did get home in time. And I miscarried at home--which was an incredibly traumatic experience. My husband and I were terribly stunned by the whole experience. We were so sure that the baby was to be our last. We planned, dreamed and thought the timing was perfect because of our upcoming move to Saudi Arabia. As our waiting period to move has stretched out, I haven't felt that I was supposed to get pregnant. And I've mourned. I, too, am getting older. With my lupus, pregnancy has only gotten riskier. I am too afraid to have a baby in Saudi Arabia. I will be almost 37 by the time we return back to the U.S. I am afraid that my time has run out. In the meantime my daughter prays in every single prayer for a baby.
My point of my story is that I really understand many of your feelings. I feel betrayed by my body and, at times, Heavenly Father.
But I don't think your faith is failing. Sometimes it is almost impossible to feel God's love or His presence. I have gone through periods where I felt like He was totally absent from my life and priesthood blessings brought no comfort, only anger and frustration.
But just because you feel that absence doesn't mean that He is absent. I believe this.
I also don't want you to think that your doubt, anger and frustration indicates lack of faith. If you've ever read the account of Job in the Bible, you'll see that he was angry and frustrated. He never denied God, but he also felt abandoned, isolated, persecuted, and misused. He didn't quietly endure but was rather vocal about his frustrations.
Take the time to grieve over the loss of your dreams, plans, and baby. We have some misguided idea in our culture that we must be stoic in the face of adversity. It is a ridiculous one. The pain and grief you are feeling is very real. You should express it. Denying those feelings or worse, feeling like you are failing this test of faith, will only delay the emotional and spiritual healing you are clearly seeking.
And finally, I think we need to be very careful about saying that God orders all things--all trials. I don't think God is denying this baby to you. Your body is a mortal, temporal one. He doesn't always interfere in these natural processes. I don't believe that God caused my baby to die and my body to miscarry. It happened because of the natural order of things--because my body is temporal and flawed.
That doesn't mean that He finds you unworthy to parent or raise children.
I am praying for you. I am praying for you as you go through this grieving process. I pray for your strength. I pray that you will feel peace and comfort in your heart.
My love to you.
Tiffany
One more thought. You do need to be sensitive to the grief of your children. It took my kids awhile to process their loss. I tried extra hard to give them the comfort and peace they desired. I ended up writing notes to my children's teachers so they would be aware that my children were grieving. I wanted the kids to have support on all fronts.
I tried to be open to the kids' thoughts and feelings. Brooke still cries about it from time to time.
Thank you for your thoughts, Tiffany. It's exactly what I needed to hear. I feel that unless you've experienced something similar, it's hard to really understand what someone is going through, and for that reason, many of my well-meaning family members do not understand some of my feelings and are critical rather than supportive. I am sorry for your loss. But I am comforted in knowing that I am not alone.
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