Waiting and Hoping

Shortly after the miscarriage, my husband and I began dreaming of our opportunity to try again.  We spoke of it with excitement and anticipation, but knew the recommended waiting time would give us time to heal.  There are many reasons why we looked favorably towards this moment.  It was not simply because we wanted to replace what was lost (because he or she is irreplaceable), but because our hearts long to be a parents here on earth.  So the countdown began.

For five weeks following our miscarriage, I got my blood checked weekly waiting for my HCG level to go down.  I hated every time I had to go into the doctor's office.  Primarily because it was a vivid reminder of the tragedy we had recently experienced and secondarily, "Who likes to get their arm poked with a needle?"  Not me!  So I kept hoping and praying.  Hoping and praying the level would go down and that I would have a regular menstrual cycle again.  I've never hoped for my period more in my entire lifetime than I did after our miscarriage, so the thought frequently running through my mind was "The sooner my period comes, the closer we are to trying again".

The doctor's orders were to wait at least two regular cycles before trying again so I wanted to get this process started.  Finally six weeks following the miscarriage, my period arrived.  And you know what?  It was bittersweet.  I expected the sweet part, but not the bitter.  The arrival of my period brought a finality to the end of my pregnancy that nothing else had.  It made it very real that the pregnancy was over and would never be again.  It also left an emptiness, a reminder that our baby was gone, never to be held in our arms here on earth.  Thankfully, it was not all bitter, but sweet in the sense that it signified one step closer to trying again, another opportunity to become parents here on earth.

So as time continued to progress closer to trying again, we were becoming more and more excited, yet fearful.  Excited for the possibly of becoming parents here on earth, yet fearful of what may come.  Just days before the long-awaited time approached, both of us became sick.  Nothing too significant, but enough to warrant medication.  I had fears that this medication would postpone what we had been waiting for the past three months.  And after a phone call to my doctor, I discovered that to be correct.  We would have to wait one more cycle before we could try again.

It was a very disappointing and discouraging moment.  To be waiting and hoping for something, only to be left waiting and hoping is extremely difficult and painful.  Knowing that waiting only another month is difficult, I can't imagine the difficulty and pain for those who have waited even longer for whatever reason.  My four months of waiting seems insignificant compared to years of waiting, but for anyone who has waited for something they deeply long for, any length of time is difficult and painful.  Plus, as women, we all know there are often years that one longs to be a mother before she actually tries so sometimes there are already years of waiting, hoping, and anticipating that happen even prior to trying.  I've felt that way.

Nevertheless, in the waiting, I am choosing to trust that God has a plan, embracing the extra time we have to continue to heal from our loss, and attempting to accept the fact that all of this is out of my control anyways.  That last one is a tough one.  This whole entire experience has been out of my control.  From beginning to end.  So I am in the process of acknowledging and accepting that I have no control, releasing control to the only One who does, and believing that I can trust Him, even if I never get what I want.  Looks like I have my work cut out for me, but at least I know I'm in good Hands, and you are too.