It’s my first Mother’s Day with a baby on my hip and we’re in self-isolation. I hadn’t even thought about it until others brought it to my attention. And truly, it makes no difference to me. But many women are saddened by the reality that they can’t attend church on this special day. I’ve been thinking about this holiday in years past and how hard it was at times. I was pondering what I might feel if I was still struggling with childlessness.
While some women might be sad about missing church on Mother’s Day this year, I know some of you are relieved.
This is the first year you don’t have to make the hard decision to either stay home for fear of salt being poured in your wound, or go knowing you’ll have to hide your grief until you’ve found a safe place to cry out, “how long, O Lord?”…
A month ago, my husband dropped off our sweet dog, Ruby, to have surgery to remove her eye and replace it with a prosthetic. We’d tried everything in our power to avoid this surgery, but in the end, it was the best decision to ensure her greatest health and comfort. Had we left it alone, she would continue to live her life burdened by the pain that eye was causing her.
When my husband brought her home from the surgery, it was a heartbreaking sight. She shook uncontrollably from head to paw, her eyelid was swollen shut, blood emerged from her wound, she whimpered at even the slightest move, and with the cone of shame snug around her neck, she was an anxious mess.
My husband and I were in a way “sovereign” over her pain. It was we who made the decision to cause her to endure this. My husband took her to the Veterinarian.…
When my eyes awakened to the morning light after another nearly sleepless night of pain, I immediately realized it would be a rough day. I slowly turned over, bringing my knees together in my venture to leave the bed. With every inch of movement—deep, sharp pain. My weak body popped and crackled, causing my face to grimace. Limping to the bathroom, I thanked the Lord I could still walk today, though every step ushered in pelvic pain.
All Grass Has Brown Spots
If I’m honest, though our losses have given me a perspective I know I’d have lacked before regarding pregnancy, I still have moments where my physical endurance comes up short. I haven’t shared fully about the struggles this pregnancy has brought to my body because I never want to tempt anyone’s heart toward bitterness. Nor do I want others to assume I’m ungrateful. Truly, I’ve learned what a beautiful gift it is to be able to carry a child in the womb which enables me to face these things with joy even if I am weary of shots in my sides and Symphysis Pubis Dysfunction (look it up) which causes deep pain with every movement.…
When I am afraid, I put my trust in you. (Psalm 56:3 ESV)
The sum of prayers whispered to heaven asking God to sustain our baby boy’s life are innumerable to my little mind. I can’t even begin to count them. It started from the moment I knew another child had taken root in my womb. Faithfully, my lips repeat it during every morning prayer, bathroom break, mealtime blessing, bedtime thanksgiving, and many moments in between. Many times, it’s followed by a heart that pleads, “I trust you, Lord. Help me trust you.”
The more his tiny body moves across my hand from within as if to say “hello mama,” the more I’m simultaneously confronted with two thoughts: 1. I love this little boy so much my heart could explode. 2. Oh, how it would hurt to lose him now.
Deep love + deep fear.
Pregnancy after losing three unborn babies for me has been filled with peace that truly surpasses understanding, but also fear that tries to wrap its arms around my heart.…
I wanted to share an update but felt unsure of how. The typical “Baby Allen coming soon!” announcement just isn’t within our reach. We hope the above statement is true, but only God knows. So, this is the best way I found to say…we’re pregnant again.
I was hesitant to share this. I feared what people would think of my decision to announce our fourth pregnancy to the world so early, given our struggles with miscarriages. “They’ll think I’m presumptuous or just plain stupid. What if I miscarry the day after I share the news? Then I’ll be so embarrassed!” Most people would advise me to keep quiet, reminding me the world doesn’t need to know. But I feel this urgency to push past the discomfort.
If I’ve learned anything in this season, it’s that pregnancy isn’t really about me anyway. It’s not about 9 months of pampering and getting everything I want, it’s not about receiving my ticket to the mom club, or the attention you get from virtually everyone—strangers included.…
I was restless. Many thoughts bouncing from one side of my head to the other, colliding and creating more thoughts. Silently, I watched the Black-Capped Chickadees dash across the yard into the white spruce right outside the window, their quickness mimicking the questions and fears racing through my mind.
How do you keep bringing your broken heart before the God who allowed it to be shattered?
That’s what I found myself wondering. It just seems easier to keep our distance and bury our longings in the tomb with all that’s been lost.
The Idol of Self-Protection
Praying for things we desire comes naturally for many people but for me, it’s a struggle. I fear my heart’s quick reaction to such prayers—how it turns my requests into idols. I don’t want to desire the created thing more than the Creator, so I don’t ask. But in not taking my supplications to him, I keep back a part of my heart from him, and therefore, provide fresh soil for the roots of another idol to deepen.…