It has been a long time since I last posted anything. My last post was 'the big 3-0', posted on my birthday. One year later, it's the big 3-1, and what a year it has been. We bought a house, built a farm, rescued some more fur kids, and have truly lived 'happily ever after' since we relocated to Washington. It has been an incredible year, full of love and joy, and a few difficult days, but all on the road to a better marriage, and a better life.
I find myself in an interesting position on this February 1- my 31st birthday. I am pregnant with my first child. Today is the beginning of my second trimester, and how fitting it is that a new season in this pregnancy is also on this particular birthday. As I have written about in the past, I suffered a miscarriage when I was 22, and truly thought I was incapable of having children since then. It was one of the hardest experiences of my life, and something I have never been able to forget.
When I found out that I was pregnant a few months ago, I felt no joy. I didn't feel unhappy, but joy was not the first thing on my mind. I felt apprehension, anxiety, fear, and selfishness, because my life was inevitably going to change for good, AGAIN, one way or another. I was just becoming settled into this new life of freedom and security here, and this was a big blow.
After we announced to family and very close friends, a new wave of feelings swept through me. The feelings of not wanting this child, and then immediately following, the realization that I was actually just feeling deep fear of another miscarriage... as I was still only 5 weeks along. I wept for days before I began to work through those feelings, and practiced trust in God and in nature. It truly was only after the last two weeks that I have been able to let go, trust completely and feel joy about this child... something I'm grateful to finally be feeling.
Throughout the last two months that I have known of this pregnancy and been preparing for a child, I have felt no excitement about announcing it publicly. I know how much pain this can cause for many, many women, and I know how much pain it caused me for years to hear about new pregnancies and see constant posts that were completely bereft of sensitivity to the experiences of other women.
To those of you who have experienced a loss of fertility, or the loss of children at any age, or any other test of female strength, I want you to know that I love you with all of my heart. I need you to know that I still feel your pain, and I will never forget how to cry with you. I will never forget how to listen to you, and hold you when you need to be held. I will pray with you, and I will faithfully remember that I am in your family- the family of women who have survived the loss of the thing we hold most dear. For women who have never experienced this, and for the men in our lives, it can be very hard to understand what it feels like to have life ripped out of you- the life you loved and hoped for. I vow to never forget you, our children, and the years of pain we survived to make it through to the other side.
This child inside of me is no longer a burden... he or she has become a reminder of the children lost and the mothers who weep for them. It has become a reminder that life goes on and beautiful mothers are made in many ways. I think often of the incredible adoptive mothers in my life, the women who love any child who needs to be loved, and who give everything they have to love them. I think of women who want children but have yet to conceive and doubt their bodies, and I think daily of the women who have lost their babies. To all of you, I need you to know that if my posts, pictures or words ever hurt you, I want to know. Please, tell me, express your hurt, and I promise to listen. I may sometimes lose my way in this pregnancy, but I promise that my heart is always with you. Please know you can always come to me, even if you just want to talk about your own loss. I will always be here to listen to you. I am still one of you, and always will be. There has not been one day in this experience that I have not remembered the child I lost, and the women who have suffered the same.
As I take this giant leap into the second trimester as I turn 31, I feel a new season emerge, and I ask you to walk into it with me. I cannot do this alone, and your experiences as mothers are valued more than you could ever know. I ask for your blessings and your love, and I ask to partake in your strength. Finally, I ask that you keep me accountable. If I am ever insensitive... speak up and tell me how I've failed you. You will always be my sisters, and I will always stand beside you. This is my love letter to you, and as I step into the light and announce my pregnancy publicly, I hope you can stand beside me too. I need you more than you could ever know.
