Every prayer gets answered…
Every time we pray, our prayers are answered… we might not be able to see it, we might not really and truly *feel* it, but we get answered each and every time… Sometimes we get what we want, and we hear “yes” – sometimes we hear what we do not want, and we hear “no” or “wait” or “just be patient”, except that we don’t really hear those answers, do we? Sometimes we ask God for healing for a body and the healing He gives is through earthly death that begins a new life in Heaven. Sometimes we beg him for the life of our unborn children, and His answer is “yes, heavenly life”.
I went through my 7th miscarriage two months ago. My 15th pregnancy. The baby had a heartbeat at our 8 week ultrasound and seemed to be growing well, things looked good, and though I am high risk and have gone through many losses, I began to hope that we would be blessed with another sweet baby in the months to come… I was excited about the growing belly I had to hold and to love the little life inside, I was excited about adding another place at our family table… but then one evening I started to bleed… just a bit… “oh, Lord, please protect my little one…” as the bleeding increased, I prayed “Lord, please, not again… not this one. Please, Lord.” My husband’s prayer was longer and more intelligible; all I could pray was “Please, Lord… not again.” I was eleven weeks, and starting to show, I loved that little one with a love unexplainable to those who have not experienced it – I do not have the words… By the next morning we went in for an ultrasound and our baby’s heartbeat was no longer. I felt my own heart shredding into many pieces and yet while the tears were there, I didn’t break down and cry just then. I knew that my baby was with the Lord… that helps a little…
SO many losses, so many sweet babies I’ve never been able to hold… and I prayed on the way home, “Lord, please, let me hold this one just for a moment… let me say goodbye, please…” and I waited. That day was hard, emotionally, waiting, knowing the inevitable was going to happen. My heart felt raw and heavy – even my sweet little ones could not bring a smile to my face. The children knew I had been pregnant, when I whispered the news to my husband weeks earlier, he excitedly blurt the news to our children “Do you want a baby brother or sister this time?” it took only a few seconds for his meaning to sink in and they were all screaming and cheering and excited – we went for ice cream to celebrate on the way home.
The first ultrasound was too early to really see anything, so we rescheduled. My youngest was not even a year yet, so I really wasn’t sure how far along I might be at that time. According to the ultrasound, it was about 5 weeks, give or take a little… three weeks later I was back on the ultrasound table, nervous, anxious… what a breath of relief to see that tiny heartbeat pumping away…. My little peanut, growing inside of me…
Weeks later, to lose that precious little life hurt so deeply. It surprised me to feel my water break, but I knew that was what happened… I had mild contractions through out the day, then a mildly painful bursting, and I knew… I ran for the bathroom and when I got there, my little one was out. So very, very tiny… with arms and legs so very tiny – just starting to distinguish themselves from the body that weeks before had looked like a peanut, a tadpole… dark eyes and a mouth, still closed over with a thin transparent layer of skin… and I could see the heart, not beating through the tiny somewhat transparent body. I am so thankful that the Lord allowed me that, and yet it was so very painful… I cried hard and long, feeling my heart shattering with the loss of such a tiny life…
Always before, when I have lost a baby, we have lived in an apartment or on military base housing. Most of those babies were too small to see when they passed out of me. Both of my second trimester losses had to be dealt with medically because things did not progress normally and there was risk of hemorrhage, so I never saw those babies. This was a gift to be allowed to see and hold my tiny one, born far too soon, and gone before birth. To be able to say goodbye, to say it to someone I could see and touch. And yet it was also heartbreakingly painful. This time, we have our own home, our own land... and so we were able to do something to commemorate the life of our little one. I bought a pretty, hinged earring box and lined it with soft material - we placed our baby inside and we buried our little one in our yard, and we planted a tree right over that spot. We chose a Norway Maple to be "Baby's tree". Our little one was not developed enough yet to distinguish if we had a son or daughter, and it felt strange to me to name our genderless baby - no name seemed to really fit. (I'm not speaking against those who choose to name their deceased unborn or still born children - it is a beautiful thing if you have a name that fits and is meaningful to you - we just couldn't find a name that felt... right. So we call our little one "Baby", and that is Baby's tree - planted right where I walk by it twice or more each day, when I go to the garden or to the chicken shed.
It is my conviction, my deeply held belief that life begins at conception. Every life is precious – life is sacred, given by God. He knows the number of our days before we are ever conceived. As David writes, God knows us before we are even knit in our mother’s womb… God knew my babies before they were conceived, and He has allowed some to be born to my arms, and He has allowed some to be born straight into heaven. Why? I don’t know. But I am so very thankful that I don’t have to know why or understand it all for it to be true… and I know that God’s love surpasses even that of a mother’s love. For that I am grateful.
Long ago the Lord convicted me that my fertility is to be under His control, not mine. I, who had a plan – I wanted to have two or three children and would go on to become a teacher at my children’s school… I had plans, I had dreams, I had it allll figured out. Right.
God also had a plan, and His far surpassed anything I might have imagined. Sure, as a kid, I draw a diagram of the house I someday would have, I would have twelve children and a mother-in-law room on my house. I had dreams of being surrounded by loving little bodies and always patient and kind and the perfect mom.
Then I grew up. Reality check. OK, 2 or 3 kids, a job, a loving husband… the order wasn’t my focus, it was just all part of the eventual dream.
Well, reality was when the Lord spoke to my heart – without question – that He wanted to be in charge. He wanted my trust (and I have trust issues, in case you haven’t figured that out yet – I’m learning and I’ve come a long way, but I still struggle with trust sometimes…) God placed it clearly on my heart to leave control over my family size in His hands… This after He changed the way I dress (no more tight jeans, no more pants or short skirts, no more clothing that shows more than anyone but my husband should see… no more gaudy jewelry, attention grabbing make up, different hair colors every few weeks…) He brought me back to who He created me to be – premature white streaks in my hair and all! The only two “people” that I have to impress with my appearance is God and my husband. In that order. And in pleasing my God with my dress, my hair, my face, I also please my husband who loves me for the person God created me to be.
OK, so I give you control, Lord. What are you going to do with it? Oh, wait, that’s right… that’s part of the trust, isn’t it? Not knowing and not having to know… Your will be done, Lord.
Over the years I’ve battled with that – Lord, really? How am I going to keep up with five young children? Please give me stamina, patience, and wisdom… and an extra measure to boot… I had my moments of doubt “is this really wise, Lord? Ok, yes, I will trust you… but I need your help to do it…”
Now, eight children into it, I believe that God had a plan far, far greater than any I could have ever imagined… and I am so glad He got me to listen! Thank you, Lord, for the blessings you have given… for those in my arms, and those who remain only in my heart… It is my hope that some day, when it is my time to meet my Lord and my Creator, that I will also meet my children who have gone to the Lord before me. That we can worship the Lord together – that I can tell them each how very much I loved them, even though I did not hold them in this life… and we will be in the Lord’s presence all together.
Until that time, it is my job to trust God for His perfect timing, and to know that He answers prayers – just not always the way we want Him to… and sometimes His answer isn’t a yes or a no, but a “wait and be still…”
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