Six Months

A lot happens in six months. Or perhaps it's not that a lot happens but that one or two things make it feel like a lot changes - it feels different, so a lot must have happened, right?

This is a bit of a personal post. I've heard there's a trend for "trigger warnings" these days, so I should note that this post might deserve one. So, consider yourself warned on both counts.

Back in March, I learned I was pregnant. MJ and I were both nervous, excited, and a little surprised. But, I'm not pregnant anymore - I had a miscarriage just a few weeks "in."

Miscarriage is something that's not talked about much in our society, unless one seeks out the conversation. That's not fully surprising. It's at once natural and somewhat embarrassing; deeply personal, but something many women experience. Telling someone about it feels like divulging some deep, raw aspect of yourself. And, often through the following months, thinking about it or bringing it up brings the pain, fears, and anxieties back to the surface. As the calendar ticks on, it is easy to remember milestones that would have been.
  
We knew the statistics for miscarriage (as many as 20-25% of known pregnancies) and that it was a risk before we talked seriously about having a baby, but it all sounded very clinical. And, in fact, doctors treat it that way, especially (apparently) for the first. My doctor assured us that there was nothing to worry about; there was nothing to suggest we'd have any trouble conceiving again. These things sometimes "just" happen, after all, and there's nothing that modern medicine believes can be done for an early miscarriage. Most have no known direct cause.

What I didn't expect was the emotional toll the experience would take. Of course I'd be sad, but I wasn't "very pregnant", so I hadn't really seen it as really losing a baby. (Although this was my personal experience; others have a different perspective.) I was certain I could be academic about the whole experience, just like the medical professionals. But quickly, I learned that I was mourning hope and joy. The excitement we had at learning we were expecting had turned into anxiety as things "weren't going right" into grief at the loss of those dreams. It wasn't immediate, and I wasn't prepared when it came.

The other issue was physical. I had my miscarriage naturally at home. All in all, it wasn't as bad as I had feared from stories on the internet. But, relief was not immediate. While other women posted online about trying again right away (even though most doctors and midwives recommend waiting one cycle), it took eight weeks for my HCG levels to drop most of the way. And then, my cycle wasn't like it was before. This served as a monthly reminder that things weren't really normal; they were different. I was further surprised to find myself suffering from mild depression at the end/start of each cycle. I believe this is as much tied to the physical and hormones not-quite-right yet as anything pyschological.

There are a few things that I've learned, though:

1.  Asking someone about when/whether they are planning to have a family is not good small talk. I had been guilty of this, myself. Unless you have a close relationship with someone, you don't know what they may be going through and these simple questions can actually be quite painful. (I'm told that couples who intend to remain childless tire of this question quickly, as well.) 
2. One shouldn't feel guilty or embarrassed about experiencing miscarriage. Easier said than done, of course. But, it is important to feel comfortable with someone before sharing the news. I still find it easier to think about people knowing about my experience than telling them myself.
3. "Don't worry, you can try again." or "Your take-home baby will come." Neither of these statements are as encouraging to the person hearing them as they sound. I suppose if one is able to conceive again in quick order, they may be. But, I've since encountered plenty of women who are still waiting and may never be able to conceive. Even if this isn't the case, to some it may add hard-to-meet expectations on top of an already anxious situation.
4. It's hard to know what to say, for everyone in the conversation. Choose your words carefully (as we always should!), but also recognize that very few people say things to be intentionally hurtful or  uncomfortable.

I have been blessed to have friends I could talk to through these few months; several of which have shared their own experiences with m/c with me. And both our families have been supportive. But, it's an "ailment" that seems to make it very easy to feel isolated, especially when confronted with the world where others have children, healthy pregnancies, and life goes on. It is perhaps most impotrant to know: you are not alone. Should you or a friend need to talk, you can drop me a note.

Sunday morning hymns

One of my favorites today.  We included it in our wedding ceremony. (Although not the verse below.)

Riches I heed not, nor man’s empty praise,
Thou mine Inheritance, now and always:
Thou and Thou only, first in my heart,
High King of Heaven, my Treasure Thou art.

What is important in the world?  In this life?  Those of us fortunate to live comfortably tend to work hard to acquire more wealth.  But what really matters?  How can we be better about focusing first on our relationships?

Here is "Be Thou My Vision" performed by Selah.

Thankful Thursday: Thankful Journal

Back in 2013 (all those weeks ago!), there was one Sunday where we had a particularly memorable and conversation-starting sermon.  It included a story about Matthew Henry, which a quick Google search shows is rather popular.  There appear to be a few different versions, but ours was that he was mugged on day and wrote thoughts about the experience in his journal:

Let me be thankful, first, because he never robbed me before; second, because although he took my purse, he did not take my life; third, because although he took all I possessed, it was not much; and fourth, because it was I who was robbed, not I who robbed.

 http://www.wholesomewords.org/devotion1.html

Both MJ and I were struck by the sentiment.  What a great example of "Give thanks in all circumstances; for this is God’s will for you in Christ Jesus." (1 Thes 5:18) And so, we were inspired to start a journal of thanksgiving.  We picked out a book together while holiday shopping and starting writing down one thought of gratitude each day.  We last a few weeks, but it petered out.  

So, we've started again for March.  But this time, in addition to saying something we're generally thankful for each day, I'm adding a note of how I'm specifically thankful to my husband.  Thank you for your willingness to try new things, MJ.

Welcome to the Wilderness!

I confess that I have a bit of an anticipatory feeling toward Lent.  It's a season for reflection, self-denial, prayer, and, as I learned last year, giving.  It's a way, I often hope, to be better.  And, I prefer Lent to New Year's for setting these sorts of "be better" goals. 

New Year seems to come so suddenly - it's just a turn of a page and then we're off full speed into the next year. Lent, on the other hand, is more gradual. It's a concrete period, instead of this nebulous year that goes along with resolutions. I feel comfortable saying, "I will try this for the next 40 (46) days and then we'll see what happens."  I enjoy the promise of a feast. Lent, seems to me, much more deliberate and reflective than changing the calendar. And it feels heavier, more traditioned. Clearer, perhaps.

Of course, there are some similarities -  Fat Tuesday is not too unlike New Year's Eve in its revelry and splurge. But I think there's a difference between the solemnity of Ash Wednesday and the awakening New Year's Day. Both hold promises. There's a sense of a chance for starting over, improving, and reconciliation. They can both be full of hope!

And so, I enter this Lenten season hopeful.  I do plan to abstain from a few things - notably "added" sugar products, which I've developed a bit of an addiction to. But I hope also to use this as a time to re-balance my priorities a bit and where I spend my time. This year has been rougher than I'd like in that regard, with multiple active work projects and deadlines piled one after another. And, I want to look at how I serve, not just in time spent but in attitude. I also hope, and this one falls a bit to that question of balancing priorities, that I can be a bit more intentional in my study.

What goals will you set for the upcoming 40 days?

Image from Kirk in the Hills, http://www.kirkinthehills.org/worship/ash-wednesday-service

Sunday morning hymns

Sometimes a verse of a hymn in church just really hits me.  This morning, we sang God of Grace and God of Glory and , although I've heard it many times before, the third stanza stood out almost as an mission statement:

Cure Thy children’s warring madness,
Bend our pride to Thy control.
Shame our wanton selfish gladness,
Rich in things and poor in soul.
Grant us wisdom, grant us courage,
Lest we miss Thy kingdom’s goal,
Lest we miss Thy kingdom’s goal.

Author: Harry E. Fosdick (1930)

What is the goal?  Not things, but peace and wholeness.  Selflessness.