I have sat at this computer several times trying to figure out how to express how I feel. Half a dozen drafts are sitting waiting to be published...but none of them seemed quite right.
I was at the end of my rope trying for a baby. My anguish got the best of me and I declared I was done. I apologized to my husband knowing how much he wanted more children, but I was weak and unable to cope with the pain of negative results.
The next day I felt strongly to take a test. Tears streamed down my face...it couldn't be true. Finally!
I kept the secret close to my heart...telling no one, but Christian.
I relished the sweet peace it had brought. I never knew such mending to my heart since Declan died.
The peace was short lived.
Our livelihood was suddenly ripped away from us. All the hard work and perseverance in a difficult employment and sacrifice of our home and friends to come and live with family, which was supposed to be very temporary, suddenly was shattering around me.
I felt we had struggled climbing a rope up a steep mountainside. I had encouraged and given my all...Christian had as well. Then above shouts from our employer that if we just keep trying it will work out. We were hopeful. Then the rope was cut and we tumbled to the ground below.
We didn't hit the ground, but we definitely were scraped up on the descent.
Nothing had prepared me for this. I had never thought much of the pain associated with losing employment. So many brushed it off and made it seem trivial. He would find another job. No big deal. But it was a big deal. It was a huge deal! It hurt!
I know only an act of God helped me stay pregnant. I have never been so stressed, so sad, and so hopelessly pitiful.
In my pain and anguish I sobbed as I told my parents I was pregnant after losing our job...not the way I had envisioned that moment.
I sat with my grandma and she just understood. My grandpa had lost his job and she had felt that frightened pain just as I was at that moment. The comfort she brought me was indescribable. Instead of painting me a silver-lining or rosy out-look she saw my pain and loved me. Of course it would be okay. That wasn't the point. It just hurt.
Everything isn't fix now. But it is better. I was astounded how many jobs were suddenly laid before us by those we know. It was humbling to see everyone so invested in helping us.
I know we are being watched over even though events of my life the last three years haven't exactly gone the way I would prefer. I am trying desperately to trust and have faith that all will work out for my good, though I cannot see how.
I am trying to have faith that this baby is meant to come home. My sweet Emmy will get to fulfill her big sister duties she has longed to bestow. That we will get to kiss and enjoy this baby all his/her life. I fight the fear each day that this baby will join Declan instead of us. But I hope regardless I can trust that Heavenly Father wouldn't ask me to do anything I can't...though I have questioned this several times in the last three years.
The last few weeks have been brutal. I have been in a dark, sad place. I have felt battered by the rough circumstances handed to us. But I realized the other day that I am not broken, just really beat up.