Frankly Friday [v. 9]

(Linking up wtih Amy from Taking Steps Home) :)

Let me be honest up front: if you have had a miscarriage or are TTC and traveling the journey of infertility, this post may be difficult for you to connect with. However, I want to remain a open with my readers as possible and because this is what has been playing in my mind a lot lately, I felt the need to hash it out, even if only for myself.

For those of you who are new here, I had a miscarriage back in March. (You can read all the posts I've written regarding this here.) Though that baby was a complete surprise and the timing of everything wouldn't have been so great, I had already experienced the blessing of a God-planned baby rather than my own. And I still can't imagine life without my little Zoë. (Who isn't so little anymore. :/)

Thus I quickly accepted the new life within me. I readily embraced it. I had my moments where fear tried to take hold of me, but I chose to cling to the truth of Psalm 127:3-5, "Behold, children are a gift of the Lord, The fruit of the womb is a reward. Like arrows in the hand of a warrior, So are the children of one's youth. How blessed is the man whose quiver is full of them; They will not be ashamed when they speak with their enemies at the gate."

And then I lost the baby at 7 weeks.

I was devastated. Shocked. Angry.

There were so many emotions that encompassed the loss of the little life within me. Even to the point that I almost didn't want to think about getting pregnant again. I didn't want to resurface the discussion Ben and I had been having before we found out we were pregnant - trying to maybe get pregnant closer to the fall. The fear of losing another baby was too real, too raw. And I knew all too well how much control I had over whether I would be pregnany full term or not - none. Nada. Zip.

That thought made me toy with the idea of never trying to conceive again.

And then, we were slightly surprised to find out we were pregnant. Again.

And though I slowly found myself warming to the idea of welcoming our 3rd into our family, I found some other strange emotions floating around in my head and heart.

For a while I couldn't quite put my finger on them, but the more I tried to figure it out, the more I realized what it was. And I found myself a little shocked, but at the same time sort of not, with what I was feeling: I wasn't completely ready to embrace the life I'm currently carrying because I still wanted to be carrying the one I was supposed to greet come November.

Maybe I'm alone in feeling this. Maybe someone who has had the same happen with them can relate. And because of some comments I've heard from others who have miscarried and then welcomed a life that was conceived not long after the miscarriage, I am hopeful that in time the Lord will help me to see the full beauty of the short life of my child born to heaven on March 20, 2013. I am hopeful that He will allow me to completely embrace this child growing within me.

But for the time being, I frequently find myself wishing I was further along. Wishing that I could know the child who I shared my body with for only a short amount of time.

While I really do find myself wishing that, I simultaneously hate myself because it means that I'm subconciously wishing away the life that I've begun to feel move within me. It makes me feel heartless.

But in reality, I wish that I could know, here on this earth, both babies. (No...I'm not asking for twins. The idea of two complete infants at the same time scares the patooties out of me.) Maybe that's why I find myself wishing that I was still pregnant with our second, because something in me thinks that if I was, then after that baby was born, I would later become pregnant with the one I'm currently carrying.

Yet, I am not God. I have no idea if that's really how it would work.

And in the midst of all these crazy jumbled thoughts I'll realize that by dwelling on this desire, I'm losing opporunity to pray for the life currently in me. I'm missing out on the opportunity to connect and care for my Little Bean right now. I missing out on praying that God would allow this child to be used for His glory and that part of that would be this LB would come to know Him at an early age.

My dwelling on the past and feeding on the desire for it to be different steals from the here and now. It doesn't allow me to fully depend on God. It keeps me from enjoying and seeing God working in my life now. It also doesn't allow me to see how He has worked in my life in the past. Nor does it help me to look to the future with the hope I have of eternity with Him.

It is a tactic straight from the pit of hell. And at times, though I hate to admit it, it has fully worked.

This isn't the only situation this has or can be used in. Really, anything we face that has a similarity to the past can find you in this place. Sometimes there don't even have to be similarites to find yourself wishing that wherever you are in life was a little different.

However, I hope that I'm learning and will store away the lessons I'm learning from this situation: you should learn from the past, but once you've learned what you can from them, that is as far as it should go. Trying to change the story that God is weaving will only leave you missing out on the now and missing out on being in the center of His will.

I don't know about you, but I really don't want to be anywhere else but the center of His will. Yes, my flesh desires at times to win out and I find myself wanting to just live life how I want, but I've already been there and done that, it is not fulfilling one bit. It is empty. It doesn't leave me with the peace I have when I do choose to whole heartedly seek God. It doesn't give me a heart that is still in the midst of turmoil because I know that when I'm fully seeking God that trials will come but they are a refining tool to make me more into Christ's likeness.

And so I encourage you: seek His face whole heartedly. If you find desires to be other than where you are creeping up, ask Him to change your heart. Ask Him to silence those desires so and to open your eyes to the story He is weaving in your life.

I'm not perfect, but I am hoping that this lesson will never leave the forefront of my mind. Or that when it seems to stray, God quickly brings my mind back to Him and how changing my story is asking to not be in His will.