Friday, September 25, 2009

I Think I Get It Now

Sometimes I have deep thoughts. They may be fleeting. I may chew on them in my mind for a few minutes and then go back to the norm of the day. I may revisit them, I may not. This week I have been thinking a lot about faith and fear in my own life. I've thought of quotes I have heard, ones I love, like "When faith enters the room, fear flees." I've thought about the Bible verse that says, "Perfect love drives out fear." And then I wonder why it is that I still feel it....the fear.

When I say I feel the fear, I don't mean I sit in the corner of my room sucking my thumb. And I don't refuse to live my life. But it still seems to be there, in my mind (mostly pertaining to pregnancy, but even to other areas as well). Sometimes, personally, I feel that faith and fear do indeed cohabitate in my thoughts, and that you can experience both. Maybe not at the same moment, but both are often there. I have faith in the God who gives life. But I fear that life being taken away.

Now, let's look at the facts:
I am 17 weeks pregnant.
I have had four (?) ultrasounds that all evidenced a growing baby inside of me.
I have heard a strong heartbeat by Doppler on two occasions.
I feel movements now....very small and faint, but recognizable.

Yet, just the other night, lying in the darkness in bed next to my husband, when the best stories and secrets, frustration and laughter tend to happen, I told him words that were spoken in silly, irrational fear. "I keep thinking it is all just going to go away, like a dream." Of course, my ever-rational husband said, "That would be one crazy long dream." I knew he was right. I knew my words were ones of fear and not faith.

Yet, I do not feel devoid of faith either. It is there, I can feel it. It is solid. It is Truth. It is what I repeat to myself when the fear sets in.

I read a blog faithfully called I Should Be Folding Laundry. Beth, the blogger, is currently pregnant, about 12 weeks along. She has two (gorgeous) kids, and then was pregnant with twin boys, James and Jake. She lost James and Jake at 20 weeks. Her story is heartbreaking. Her sadness is real and understandable. She had another miscarriage earlier this year. But now....she is pregnant. And glowing. And taking pictures of her belly. And excited. I love reading her blogs about pregnancy and how much she is embracing it and enjoying it (even in the sickness). I read her words, knowing her story of great loss, and wonder how she can just "put it all out there." How she embraces this pregnancy with such hope and faith.

When I have gone through losses that, by human standards, were not as hard as hers, why do I still fear so much? Why do I think that if I get too excited, or love this baby too much, I will lose it, too? Please don't misunderstand me....I am so happy about this baby. We have taken steps of faith, like choosing names, and making plans. Yet I still think that even in the happiness I feel, I will wake up from this dream and be back to square one all over again.

Today, I read Beth's blog. She does feel the sadness of losing James and Jake. It is still tangible and her life is forever changed. Then she ended her blog with these words, "I’m off to begin my day…THIS DAY that is so remarkable and beautiful, I’ll be sure to live it because that’s what it’s here for…I’m hoping you do the same."

And then I felt like maybe I got it. Maybe I understood how she is embracing her pregnancy in faith, even while feeling the real grief of losing her twins. She doesn't want to miss it. She wants to accept this day as the gift that it is. There are things that are out of our hands. But I can choose to embrace this pregnancy, relishing every little kick of a tiny foot, imagining, dreaming, hoping....or I can fear that loving it too much will make it not be real somehow. I can choose faith today in loving what is happening inside of me...or I can miss it. Thanks for that reminder, Beth.

2 comments:

amypfan said...

Well said! Beth sounds like a very wise woman.

Stacey said...

Thanks for sharing this, Amy. I know I'm in an entirely different place personally, but I am thrilled that you are learning to enjoy this moment that you have with this baby. No, it doesn't erase what you've been through, but every day is a gift. I'm happy to see you so happy! :)