53 days ago, after much speculation, we found out we were pregnant. 53 days ago, we found out just that – we were pregnant – but sadly weren’t anymore. 53 days ago, we found out our baby was no longer with us but instead with the Father of Lights, the One who knew their days before the beginning of time. 53 days ago, our lives drastically changed and have never been – and will never be – the same.
Because 53 days ago, I became a mother.
You may very well disagree with that statement. I know that for a fact, because a brave few, even one on Mother’s Day, have let me know that they don’t view me as a mother yet; they don’t think it’s healthy for me to, either. We’re all entitled to our opinions, I guess. Thankfully, we’re also allowed to vehemently disagree with each other sometimes and still be walking in holiness and love.
I’m glad, because despite what the enemy, and even well-intentioned humans, say, I am a mother.
As I said on my Facebook on Mother’s Day:
: Today I cry tears of sadness because of our child who is no longer with us. Today I cry tears of hope, because that child is safe with the Lord & we’ll see them again. Today I cry tears of grief because I long to have the opportunity to mother my children, all of them. Today I cry tears of joy when I think about all the ways in which God has already, and will continue to, use my precious kids. Today I cry tears of thankfulness, because, like Hannah, the Lord heard my cry & answered my prayer. As a result, no matter what others may think, this Mother’s Day I AM a mother & no one will ever take that away from me.
That post so succinctly sums up all the emotions I have had over the past 53 days.
Please understand, I haven’t been intentionally keeping those emotions from the public. I have sat down to blog probably a dozen of times. There were times the words just wouldn’t come; it’s hard, even for me, to always put into words the plethora of feelings I’ve experienced the past 7 weeks. Other times, the words were there, but the tears that accompanied them made it too hard to sit and write, to immerse myself in the sorrow and try to walk away unscathed and ready for a day’s work.
That being said, it would be an understatement to say the emotions surrounding the miscarriage are still raw. Honestly, I think they always will be, at least in a way. No, I don’t cry every day anymore, but that doesn’t mean all is forgotten. Call me crazy (I’m used to it), but I am so very thankful for that fact. I am so very thankful the Lord hasn’t forgotten about our child and I don’t have to, either. Moreover, I am so very thankful that God never gives us more than we can handle and always blesses us in exceedingly abundant ways, if we only choose to look at our earthly life as a vessel for His glory, a vapor in time. Our child’s life inside the womb only lasted a few days, but the impact they have left on our hearts while we still walk this earth – and their time with us in Glory – will last forever. While we are apart, I refuse to forsake my child and act as if they never existed, even if their conception was far from planned. Instead, I choose to allow Him to use their microscopic life for His glory and daily thank Him for answering my prayer.
How, you ask, did He answer my prayer?
My child, whom I will never meet here on Earth, is dead, after all.
The answer to that question wasn’t always so clear to me, either. About a week after the miscarriage, though, the Lord made the answer very clear while driving home from work one night. I will never forget that night as long as I live. It was around dusk, and I was driving down a busy road that leads to the entrance to our subdivision, having a conversation out loud with the Lord, which is quite common for me. It was my first day back to work after the miscarriage, and had been an abnormally very long day due to a work-related function after office hours. I was exhausted – physically and emotionally – and just wanted to go to bed.
While driving down the familiar road, I said very angrily to the Lord, “Why? Why did I have to get pregnant, just so You could take our baby? Couldn’t You just have let us adopt and left us alone? First we can’t afford surrogacy, and then our biological child dies?! Nothing good is coming out of any of this! Why aren’t you answering our prayers and giving us a family? Why are you torturing us instead? I want our children to be used mightily by You, Lord. Haven’t I prayed that for years?! Please just let them be born, so they can be used by You.” As tears rolled down my cheeks, the Spirit of the Lord began to patiently and quietly speak to me, just as it had so many times before.
“I did answer your prayer, Amber. I am using your child mightily for my glory.”
His answers stopped me dead in my tracks, and I have never been the same since. There was no point in arguing, in saying, “but that’s not what I meant.” It was, after all, far from what I meant all those times the past several years I had petitioned the Lord to use my children. God in His sovereignty and goodness, though, still chose to answer my prayer (at least with this child), albeit in a different, harder-to-understand way. Though my flesh didn’t (and still doesn’t) want to, the only thing left to say in that surprisingly peaceful moment was ‘thank you.’ Thank you, thank you, thank you!
Several weeks after that encounter with the Lord, I am still saying ‘thank you.’
I don’t know how to explain it, but because of His grace, my womb may be empty, but my heart is full.
Though there is still sorrow that comes with their loss, I am still standing in awe of how the Lord is choosing to use our first child for His glory and our good. I am still saying thank ‘thank you’ for how the Lord is choosing to use this blog to reach thousands of people I don’t even know. I am daily blown away with how He’s encouraging so many through my willingness to be so open about our truly miraculous journey. As I’ve told you before, I couldn’t make the past 2 1/2 months of our lives up if I tried.
If you haven’t been following along, please go back and catch up, so your faith can be strengthened as ours has. God isn’t done with the story. I can assure you of that. As the days go on, more will be shared that has happened. Through sharing, we are simply trying to be His vessels, to point all the glory and honor back to Him. We didn’t ask for any of this, but I am certainly not going to waste it. To be able to praise Him through this storm, I have to allow the Lord to redeem it, to use it — for me, though John often wishes otherwise, that comes with bearing my soul to all of you. Thanks for listening, for the private messages and emails, the cards, and more importantly, the prayers. We are truly, truly blessed. 🙂
More to come!