I went to church today for the first time since the day before my Methotrexate injection officially ended my last confirmed pregnancy. I haven’t been back since for a number of reasons. The first was because the last sermon haunts me to this day. The church I have, or had been attending utilizes audiovisuals as part of the message. The title that was “Like A Baby Craves It’s Mothers Milk” Throughout the service I could barely breathe, but there I sat watching as the visuals changed from animals suckling in the bar yard to that of a mother nursing her infant child–the image that stayed on the screen for the remainder of the service. When I got into my car after the service I burst into tears that come just as easily today as I remember that day and I haven’t been back. I was angry, not only at those who were fortunate enough to not miscarry their babies, but at God as well. Loosing a baby wasn’t suppose to happen to me again. The nurse had promised it wouldn’t. My progesterone was 147 at 15 days post conception, that was so high she assured me I wouldn’t miscarry. Boy was she wrong. That day I sat in church looking for guidance, and instead felt nothing but pain.
Over the past 8 months I have gone through many stages. Anger, at God which prompted me for a while to boycott Christmas. After all that is the Christian celebration his birth, despite the likelihood that it occurd in the spring, and not in the dead of the winter. I was so angry I couldn’t see myself celebrating a centruries old birth 10 days after what was my due date. Then there was bartering-If God could just give me another pregnancy and I was allowed to carry it to term I promised that I would raise that child in the church. Self blame, obvisiously this was directed to myself. My doctor didn’t believe in doing early ultrasounds, yet had we done one before my methotrexate we should have seen something. I was 6 weeks and 1 day when I had the shot. We certainly could have ruled out cardiac activity. So I began to question if there wasn’t something more I could have done.
Finally, after dealing with all the emotions I decided that it was time to put my spiritual life back in order, or to at least start. So today I walked back into that same church I walked out of in May. Despite it being the second Sunday of Advent (one of the 4 Sunday’s leading up to Christmas Day) we had a Thanksgiving witness. After the sermon in which Joel, the pastor suggested that we give up our grudges, and angers, and troubles to God came the witnessing. Before us stood a man whose life by his own account was easy. He got into the college he wanted and came out with no debt. He got the girl he wanted, the job be wanted and even managed to climb to the highest rung of the corporate ladder before retirement. To him life was easy, but during that time he said he stopped praying despite being taught to do so. Then his wife was diagnosed with stage 4 mestastized cancer. During her treatments which included surgery and chemo she only wanted to do two things–go to church and go to her bible study. The man however began to pray again-only what he realized was that God couldn’t be bartered with, nor manipulated during prayer–“If you give me this…then I will do that” I listened with wrapt attention wondering how the story would end…and just like thelast sermon I had a tear in my eye at the end. Not because it was sad, because it made me realize that I was right where I needed to be. I am not holy, I am not a bible beater, I am a sinner of magnanimous proportions but by walking away from the unity of others I was shutting myself off from those who really get know what its like to be unified.
Infertility sucks, miscarriage sucks, and yes there is much support in this community but there is also much change. We do not stand united when we become pregnant-many stop reading about their infertile friends–not all, but many. They (as I did when I was so briefly pregnant) seem to forget that they were once angry, and frustrated, yet God doesn’t ever walk away, I walked away from that same support. I am not a bible beater you will never hear me preach to those who don’t believe. Yet I am proud of what I re-discovered today and whether or not I ever have a child, or another pregnancy I know the one place I can go where I am right where I need to be…
I make no apologies for this entry, but thank those who read it this far….