Monday, October 22, 2012

Life After Miscarriage: Maybe We Shall

Essentially, I passed go. 

I don't know how the conversation began or why we were discussing fertility at all during a recent doctor's appointment, but when she finished my half-way point evaluation she'd said she wouldn't be concerned at all if I were to get pregnant tomorrow. 

Through a mustered smile, I thought to myself -- maybe she wouldn't, but I couldn't say the same. 

Her green light was unexpected. So unexpected that it left me more flabbergasted than joyful, like I would have expected. 

I'd long been dreaming of the day, the appointment when my crazyhella smart doctor would say that my body wasn't so broken that she would worry about what a pregnancy would do to me, that she wouldn't have cause to believe we'd say goodbye to another baby before we ever got to hold that new life in our arms. 

After John and I left her office, the astonishment of her words, the shock of my reaction didn't wear off. And as days have progressed into weeks, I've become a river of emotion winding wildly down stream through every twist and turn imaginable. 

There's no question of if I want to welcome a new baby into our family; I do. Honestly, we both do. 

But I'm the complicated one who was cleared to pass go but can't seem to collect her $200 and be on her merry way. 

Because now I know that positive pregnancy tests don't always mean baby in arms at the end of a nine-month journey. 

Now I know that we have to welcome all the risks that come along with the chance of welcoming another baby into our lives because another baby, whether living here on Earth or there in Heaven, will indefinitely take up more real estate of the heart and mind. 

I find myself praying, asking God if we should try again to grow our family. If we should journey into three, and I enter into theological discussions about having more kids and the whole "be fruitful and multiply" command and whether or not two miscarriages were clear indicators to let go of the dream of a bigger family. 

Over time, after discussions, in searching my heart, I know, though, that I'm not really asking theological questions anymore. I'm not really asking if having another baby is black-and-white right or wrong for our family. 

I'm asking if this time we will actually have and hold another one. 

I'm asking if a new baby will be in our arms, not just our hearts. 

I'm asking if we take the risk, will there be rich reward. 

Or will we be face to face in another seemingly dead end.

****

We're wandering a corn maze with our boys, our good friends and their boys on a bright, warm October afternoon; we're discussing such matters of the heart and such matters of theology as we keep running right into dead ends of thick corn stalks -- so many times that I joke they might have to come in with a search team and flashlights to find us. 

And that's when it stares me right in the face, bright and golden like the towering cornfields beneath soft autumn light. 

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There's not really any such thing as a dead end if you can turn around. It's more a side-road detour. 

And

we didn't enter the maze just to effortlessly walk through. We went in knowing it could be a trial. We could get lost. We could be wandering aimlessly until the sun set over the fields. 

But, too, we went in trusting that we would be rescued if rescue was needed. No theological discussions about whether we should turn at this corner or that or if it's right for us to walk a path before us that we're unsure of where it leads. No desperate prayers for an answer before we even come to the fork in the road. 

We find our way through after a few long roads that led to nowhere, after lots of discussion and giggles, tears and tiredness, triumph and trial, conversation and sun soaked onto faces. 

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I grab John's hand and catch his eye, our boys running off into the clear open space of prairie outside of the maze. 

And I think to myself, maybe we shall.


Those who know your name will trust in you, for you, Lord, have never forsaken those who seek you." 
Psalm 9:10

6 comments:

  1. What a great blessing to start my Monday morning reading this! This is powerful - for your specific life journey in the place you are now...and for all of us who face trying again in our lives in areas where we've met with pain, fear, failure disappointment...And you thought you were just going for a walk through a maze!!

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  2. this was so lovely, as usual, Hyacynth...

    Whatever your path becomes, I hope it is full of peace for your hearts...

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  3. You are amazing, Hy. I really wish that we lived within minutes of each other. :)

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  4. oh, the analogy of the corn field is the most genius thing I've heard in a long time. Beautiful, thought provoking, and just miraculous. Love to you, friend.

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There's nothing better than good conversation ... but not while talking to myself. Will you play a part in this discussion?

AND will you pretty please have your email linked to your account or leave it for me so I can respond?

Thanks for taking the time to make these thoughts into conversation.

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