Thursday, October 24, 2013


I haven't written on this blog in over a year, and there are reasons for that.  Aside from the busyness of life and the priorities I've made, the blog just doesn't seem very important to me.  But today - today I have to take the next step in my healing process, and it isn't something I want to post on facebook.  So, it ends up here on my blog and if no one sees it, that's ok.  At least I will know that it's out there and I faced it publicly like I was told to do.

I long - almost - to be pregnant again, or to have the opportunity to adopt.  I ache over the fact that the choice to have more children was taken from me without me even knowing.  I ache in so many ways.  And I have never really told anyone.  Because hey - I have 3 kids.  My life was saved!  I get to stay here and raise my children.  I get to see their faces every day.  I got to experience pregnancy first-hand.  My heartaches should be less than those who are still struggling to have children, or those who can't have children at all, or those who didn't survive their deliveries.  Or those who have experienced failed adoptions.  My heartaches have no place in this world of "it could be worse!"  But you know what - that's not true!  And I have to remind myself that I am a person too.  My very wise friend, who struggles more than I do with having children, once told me "Jenn, but that's your pain.  That's your trial.  And it's ok.  No one can tell you how you feel.  Not even me.  Yeah, I'm going through hell but you are too."  She understood.  She gets it.  And yet, I feel that compared to her struggles, I shouldn't complain at all.  But, I ache.  I ache in every part of my body, heart, mind, and even the deepest parts of my soul.

I have been through hell and back multiple times in my life.  My childhood was NOT easy.  My family was torn apart.  Satan runs rampant in my family and he knew just how to crumble us.  He is evil in every form ever imagined.  And he came, he swooped in, he destroyed, and he laughed.  We picked ourselves up, we braved the evil, we stood as firm as we could despite our trials.  Yet he still lives on.  And we are left picking up the pieces of his evil doings, and only God knows what we have been through.  Only God knows our pain, our heartaches, our every thought, feeling, etc.  And so, it is only God who can tell me that my pain at this time is ok.  And I believe He has done so!  I have been through a lot, and yeah - it might not be as bad as someone else's life.  But I am not them.  They are not me.  What they can endure, perhaps I could not.  What I can endure, perhaps they can not.  I am my own individual person, with my own soul, and these are my trials.  And although they may look easy for some, they are very real and hard for me.  I don't pretend to know or understand someone else's trial, I wish people would stop pretending to know mine.

I grieve for the children I cannot have.  I cry for them.  I ache for them.  Grieving for the death of someone who was never born is hard.  I had my 3 unborn children in my mind, I felt them in my heart, I saw them.  Then I let go.  It tore me to pieces.  It took everything out of me to let go of that last child.  It ripped my heart open, and left me in a state of depression, confusion, turmoil, and pain.  I left Iowa.  I escaped reality for a while.  No one will ever understand why I did that, or why I did the things I did.  I don't even fully understand it.  But what I do know is that God allowed me to escape.  He allowed me to let go.  It was weird, and messed up, but it was real.  I got yelled at, judged, and am now still suffering from that period of my deepest hurt when those that I thought would understand, just didn't.  But God is with me.  He is the only one who knows my heart.

I have been to counseling.  I got over the PTSD I experienced after my delivery.  I have faced the reality of my hysterectomy and I have faced jokes, hurtful comments, and rude remarks.  I have even gotten to the point of being able to laugh with those that joke about my very painful circumstances.  I have been able to see that they are not trying to hurt me.  They are merely trying to make light of the situation, to help me laugh a little, to move on.  I can see a ventilator without having anxiety, and I can talk about Parker's birth without crying now.  I can advocate blood donations and hospital volunteers who stay with babies who can't be with their mothers!  There are good things that have come from this healing process.  But there are real and deep things that I have to face.  Such as my fear that maybe I wasn't being a good enough mom, and God took that away from me.  Or maybe God didn't want me to have any more children so He took that option away.  I have been trying to push those thoughts aside, but they are hard.  And they hurt.  Because in all reality, I will never know why this happened.  I will never have answers in this lifetime.  And Faith is all I have.

My counselor asked me to write my feelings, my unwanted thoughts, and my fears.  I'm trying.  But to write them down is to face them. And to face them is to accept them. And to accept them is to be at peace with them.  And being at peace with them is having an undeniable testimony that the atonement is real, and that God Himself sent a Savior for me, so that all that is unfair in this world can be made fair.  And undeniable faith is something that can only come through heartaches, trials, and pains.  And in the end, my Faith is all I have!   So, it is with that faith that I am learning to write, accept, and be at peace.  It is a long journey.  But it is a journey I must take.  I ache every time someone complains about being pregnant.  I ache every time I see an unwanted child with no home.  I ache every time adoption fails us.  I ache every time I think of the children that I could love unconditionally - for eternity.

And so, through the aching, the tears, and the trials - I move on.  I continue in faith that there is a divine plan for me, my family, my life!  I continue on knowing that the judging, the "it could be worse", and the "count your blessings" will not stop.  But I also continue on knowing that they are trying to help.  They are trying to offer comfort.  And I continue on knowing that those who judge me are merely trying to understand why I am who I am.  They do not know my heart, they do not know my pain.  And therefore, they do not know that they are judging me as harshly as they are.  And so, I can move on - knowing that through it all, the only thing people want for me is happiness, and love.

And I am happy.  I have a wonderful husband and family.  And through it all, Parker was sent here as my last child because God knew I needed his sweet spirit and his wise little 2 year old heart to comfort me on my hardest days.  Parker knows me, he knows my heart.  He will hug me, or sit by me, or touch my face with his tiny little hands even before I realize that I'm having a hard day.  Right now, he has his hand on my arm as I type this.  He knows.  God knows.  And God sent Parker at the perfect time - to be a reminder that God lives, and loves me!  And through the pain and heartaches, I am blessed with more than I could possibly understand.

My children giggle, they smile, their eyes light up, and I am left in awe at the blessings I do have.  My girls shine bright, and my boy stands tall.  My husband leads with kindness and love.  I am blessed.  I am loved.  But, I also ache in my heart.  And that's ok!  Because this is my life, this is my trial, and God will see to it that I am not alone . . .