This morning I went back to the doctor for my post-operation
checkup. She said I am doing great, and we talked about my plans for growing
our family. Today marks 15 days since we learned that our baby's life
ended in my womb. Since that day, my mind, body, and spirit have been in a
serious state of chaos.
For one thing, I did not get a good night's sleep for two weeks. I tossed and turned every evening, only to slip into a light dreamy state a couple of hours before sunrise. Naturally, this led to intense exhaustion during my waking hours. Fight Club accurately describes insomnia as a state of being "never really asleep" and "never really awake." Bingo. That might not have been so bad if I were not a teacher. As my husband put it, teaching is like giving an eight hour presentation every single day. You have to be ON constantly. As much as I adore my bouncy, giggling, chatty middle schoolers, they were quite a handful for someone essentially on autopilot.
Additionally, my body is still full of pregnancy hormones, so that has done nothing to stabilize my mind or emotions. For those two weeks, my moods would shift violently from depressed to angry to sentimental and reflective, then back to depressed. I teared up at the smallest things, and a day did not pass when I didn't cry several times. I did not talk much about my feelings because I was embarrassed. I felt like I was crazy. It turns out that while those emotions were real, much of the intensity behind the feelings was fueled by hormone shifts. Fortunately, that has started to subside.
It was not surprising to me that I encountered a whirlwind of issues on the inside. What did surprise me was the plethora of problems that began popping up everywhere on the outside. I started running into obstacles physically, spiritually, relationally, and professionally. They were all totally separate from the miscarriage--just a series of unfortunate events. Let me be clear: I don't think life is ever a walk in the park for anyone, but I could not remember another time when I felt so bombarded by frustration, sadness, anxiety, stress, loneliness, fear, and despair. With every new trouble, my husband and I would look at each other knowingly, like...what now? Is this ever going to end? I felt like I was standing in a batting cage, opposite a fully-loaded pitching machine, with no bat...just getting pelted over and over again. The little illustration below summarized this phenomenon very cutely. :)
This second pictures gets it right as well. I've always been a fan of dodgeball, and I often find myself relating life experiences to it...
Thank God for never abandoning us in the darkness. Very recently, He shed some light on my situation. Here's a bit of what I am learning:
1. Satan does not play fair.
After we lost our baby, I naively expected the other aspects of my life to be gentle and patient for awhile so that I could heal. The truth was essentially the opposite. We were attacked like never before in every area of life. Satan is not a gentleman or a sportsman. He will not politely stand down until you are back on your feet. He does not mind that you are bloody and limping. In fact, he prefers you that way. He is like a predator stalking a wounded sheep, licking his chops in anticipation.
1st Peter 5:8 says it this way: "Be sober-minded; be watchful. Your adversary the devil prowls around like a roaring lion, seeking someone to devour." In other words, if you are going through a painful situation (or when you inevitably do), be ready for the spiritual warfare. He will attack you more than ever when you are vulnerable. God has not abandoned you. Stand strong and cling to Him.
2. Self-pity is dangerous.
While we were stuck facing this onslaught of problems, I kept focusing on my issues and my sadness. The temptation to pity myself was like a powerful magnet sucking me into its trap. It was so easy to think, "Why me? Did I really deserve this? God, haven't I obeyed you? How can you deny me what I long for most?" Again, let me be clear: it is okay and totally necessary to grieve. Sadness and heartbreak are part of the healing process. However, indulging in self-pity will lead only to hopelessness. The more I felt sorry for myself, the deeper I plunged into despair.
3. There is a right way to grieve.
Instead of pitying ourselves, we must choose to surrender our suffering to Christ. Only then can we grieve in a way that is spiritually healthy and God glorifying. If you are hurting, do not look to yourself. You are powerless to bring hope to your situation on your own. There is only One who is able to produce life and hope in your heart where there is now death and sorrow. Lift your eyes to the one who can help!
I lift up my eyes to the mountains--
where does my help come from?
My help comes from the LORD,
the Maker of heaven and earth.
--Psalm 121:1-2
The rest of Psalm 121 is equally amazing. You can read it here:
We are still not out of the woods. My heart is still broken, and I still long for my child. We certainly don't have things figured out, and we still struggle with self-focus and despair, but we are learning to move out of ourselves and into God's grace. This is a discipline, and it takes practice.
The spiritual discipline of suffering well does not make grief go away. It does not make everything better. What it does, however, is protect myself and my family from the enemy's cunning. He would love nothing more than to take a sad situation and turn it into a disaster. He is an expert at using heartache to produce deep devastation in forms like addiction, abuse, divorce, depression, self-harm, etc. If instead, we surrender our suffering to Christ, we leave room for God to produce life and beauty from the ashes of our broken dreams. I believe He is already creating something beautiful from our brokenness, and I will trust Him to bring it to completion.
The Spirit of the Sovereign Lord is on me,
because the Lord has anointed me
to proclaim good news to the poor.
He has sent me to bind up the brokenhearted,
to proclaim freedom for the captives
and release from darkness for the prisoners,
to proclaim the year of the Lord's favor
and the day of vengeance of our God
to comfort all who mourn,
and provide for those who grieve in Zion--
to bestow on them a crown of beauty
instead of ashes,
the oil of joy
instead of mourning,
and a garment of praise
instead of a spirit of despair.
--Isaiah 61:1-3
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