If you Google the socially acceptable amount of time to wait before announcing a pregnancy, it quotes twelve weeks as the general “safe zone.”
The reality is that any of us could go at any time. A baby could be lost at a week or at five months, at birth or at five years old. Any of us could go at any time. Life is to be celebrated.
Matt and I just found out last week that I’m pregnant again. I’m almost six weeks along. It was a bit of a surprise as it’s only been two months since I miscarried and we weren’t exactly doing any baby-planning math.
The fear that I was certain I’d feel hasn’t set in yet, and I suppose it’s because I haven’t fully let myself invest. I’m told that’s natural. I know it’s a defense mechanism… maybe apathy is what I should have been afraid of, because it means I’m essentially refusing to deal with the fear, or pain. Or love. I don’t think it’s as negative as that sounds, but I do have to be honest with myself.
The reality is that I want this baby more than I’m even brave enough to admit at this moment in time. I don’t want that heartbreak or disappointment again, but I am hyper aware of the fact that dear friends have dealt with loss many times without promise of an end. I didn’t think it would happen to me, not the first time. But I do know it could happen again.
And even so, it is well.
I was dreading today. I know that if I weren’t pregnant right now it would feel very different. I have a glimmer of hope that soothes the grief. A part of my heart is still tucked away in that plastic drawer under my bathroom sink, with that first pregnancy test and the little “You are Loved” onesie I used to surprise Matt. But part of my heart has crawled out and is timidly emerging to soak up the sunshine. Opening up and laying vulnerable even to the rain, if it comes.
I know there are loving and protective folks that would caution us to keep this private until it’s safe. But I’ve always known that isn’t my nature. I wear my heart on my sleeve, it’s just part of my DNA. We also know that God uses every single detail of life, no matter how minute or ginormous, to ultimately open our eyes to dimensions of His love and goodness that we can’t fathom otherwise. There are also other families that are walking this same path, and we should be walking it together. No kind of grief or pain should be carried alone. There’s more than enough love, support and hope to go around.
May we look for the good in every situation, and may God and His beautiful plan be our definition of that goodness!
Happy Mother’s Day!