On Monday, we met with a doctor a friend of ours referred us to. As the doctor entered the room, she warmly greeted us. Her earnest welcome suddenly made the sterile exam room feel more welcoming, and tentatively caused my nervousness to subside. Following a couple of superficial comments, our conversation proceeded to the purpose of our visit and continued with a detailed discussion of our two losses, which did not come easily, I might add.
After I shared, she responded with an alternative perspective I had never considered before or heard prior to that appointment. She frankly said that she believed our miscarriages had nothing to do with my gene mutation. Her theory was based on two facts. First, I have only one copy of the gene mutation opposed to two, and second, our miscarriages were two different situations and circumstances. She proceeded to say that she believed our first miscarriage was the result of statistics (most likely caused by chromosomal abnormalities) and the second was more than likely the result of a "bad egg".
She went on to explain that as we get older, our ovaries are more likely to release a "bad egg". I am not quite sure what she said directly after that statement because my brain was fixated on the word "older", which was then followed by a mini-meltdown in my head as I considered the fact that I was getting "older" and would, at times, release "bad eggs". A reality I had never really took the time to face prior to that moment so you can imagine my surprise. Reality hit hard. I continued to process her words in my mind, "I am getting 'older' and sometimes my ovaries will release 'bad eggs'." This reality brought a familiar emotion: Fear.
I tried to collect myself and dismiss the fear, but I couldn't help but think about the fact that statistics, my "older" age, and "bad eggs" could not be prevented or cured. So I found myself, once again, desperately longing for a guarantee that we would never have to suffer a miscarriage again. Instead of being grateful that I don't have an incurable problem or possibly not even a problem at all, I whined and complained about not having a risk-free plan that would eradicate all my fears, the risk that comes with trying again, and the uncertainty of the future. I was so bent on living a risk-free life without pain or conflicts or consequences that I failed to see the beauty of the fresh, new perspective I had just been offered.
I think as human beings we naturally long for security and safety. We long for a guarantee so we do not have to take risks and face our fears. We long for understanding so things will feel smaller and within our control. We dislike feeling out of control because it's scary, unpredictable, and involves risk. But this world does not offer guarantees and definitive answers, just educated guesses and logical conclusions. It does not offer security and safety, just impostors that falsely promise these things. It does not because it cannot. It wasn't intended to.
Although my humanity and finite mind still desperately long for a visible guarantee, a promise that our future will not include things of the past - I know that true security and safety can only be found in my Savior's loving arms, no matter our circumstances. He is showing me that when I choose to stop looking for my security and safety in this world, I am free to trust Him with our future, face my fears, and take risks. Risks that although they do not come with a guarantee, come with a purpose and a plan beyond my scope of vision. And in the end, I would rather take the risk of experiencing heartache and loss all over again then to live in the safety of a risk-free life and miss out on one of the most precious gifts in this world...holding our baby in our arms. Things that are worthwhile involve risk, and this is a risk that is as worthwhile as they come.