The True Meaning of Christmas

Okay, so I made it through Thanksgiving! It was harder than I thought it would be. I felt my babies' absence so strongly. Every reminder of the Christmas season reminded me they were gone. We put up our tree on Friday. Every ornament reminded me of past Christmases before the "new normal". What is it about holidays? I have a hunch the child in me has sky high expectations for everything to be just right and everything is not just right. I know in my head that things will never be perfect here on earth, but I always secretly hope it will be close. I don't ask for much. I just want all my loved ones with me and a guarantee that nothing bad will ever happen to them. Is that too much to ask? Holidays bring out the kid in me who would rather have her desires gratified than to grow in patience; who would rather have healthy babies than Spiritual blessings.

I suppose it is a good thing that these feelings come up so they can be healed. I want them healed as soon as possible because I want my Christmas joy back! Something I learned in counseling is that feelings always have thoughts at their root. I've been listening to the thoughts under the feelings and they sound something like this: "God can do anything, he made sure his Son made it here safely, but surely your children don't rank high enough on his priority list." "There is something innately wrong with you. You're not woman enough to carry healthy babies. Other women have babies without giving it a second thought." "Life is all down hill from here. There is more grief to come. Give up and join the ranks of people who dread Christmas because of the pain it brings."

Do these sound familiar? Maybe you haven't experienced exactly what I have, but I'll bet you recognize that voice. It is the enemy of our souls and he carried his charade a bit too far with that last one. I know my God is a God of hope. Anyone who tells His children to give up is a liar. Christmas is God humbling Himself to walk on in our shoes. He didn’t simply appear as a 33 year old and die for us, he lived for us! He lived a full life of love with no other purpose than to reconcile us to Himself. He experienced all of the feelings known to man including grief. “He was despised and rejected by mankind, a man of suffering, and familiar with pain” (Isaiah 52:3 KJV). When I look at Christmas through this lens, the lens of God’s love for us, I start to cautiously wonder if this Christmas might be the best yet.

One of the biggest triggers for pain this Christmas is the fact that I was expecting to have a new baby by then. It has made me wonder, “Will I have one next Christmas?” I am trying not to go there. It will just set me up for disappointment because even if I am blessed with another baby next Christmas ANYTHING that sets itself up above the true joy of Christmas will leave me feeling empty. Whether or not I have a baby next year, I know I will still have a God who keeps His promises who has not forgotten His plans for me.

Yesterday, as Meredith and I listened to Christmas music while making ornaments, I thought about Advent. I put myself into the shoes of the Old Testament Israelites who were waiting for the coming Messiah for hundreds of years. Even the faithful must have had doubts deep down as they waited for faith to become sight. What was it like for Simeon to hold the baby Jesus? It stirs my heart to think about it. Especially when I think that my eyes too have “seen the salvation prepared in the sight of all people.” Since God sent His son at the exact time of His choosing, He will also come again just like He promised. He will make all things new. There will be no more death or separation or grief. Just joy.

The clouds are lifting

I feel much better today! Thank you to everyone who prayed for me. I realized I needed to take a day devoted to resting and grieving. So yesterday while Meredith was at school I read the Bible, prayed, read books about grief, spent time on the Hannah's Prayer forum and added a playlist to my blog (scroll to the bottom to hear it). I spent a lot of time just thinking about my babies and letting the tears flow freely. The time went by quickly, but when it was time to pick Meredith up, I felt like I could function again. I wasn't out of the woods yet, but I took each task one at a time and by the end of the day I had cooked dinner, washed a load of laundry, gave Meredith a bath, played tea party and Chutes and Ladders and read her a book. It may not sound like much to some moms, but from the way I was feeling it was nothing short of a miracle. Today I had more joy and I'm even starting to look forward to the holidays! I will have more hard times ahead, but I made it through this one and I'm so grateful. I'm grateful to God who never forsakes me, Jeremy for being the best husband ever and friends and strangers who lift me up in prayer.

The Holidays

My first due date is coming up next month. I don't feel ready yet. I was planning on bringing my newborn to the Christmas Eve service. Now, everywhere I look people are gearing up for Christmas. Thanksgiving is next week. We will put up our tree and decorations like we do every year. We will put our jammies on, listen to Christmas and make snickerdoodles and hot apple cider, but this year I know it will be bitter sweet. I would put it off a few months if I could.

We are celebrating the birth of a baby. This one happens to be my Savior, but nevertheless we will sing songs about Mary rocking her baby and singing Him lullabies. I know that Christmas is God coming in the flesh so He could die to take away my sins and reunite me with my babies. Even this fails to comfort me now. Early thoughts of my little one were tied together with Christmas. I imagined him or her born sometime between Thanksgiving and Christmas. I imagined myself waddling around on Thanksgiving wondering when the big day would come. By this time of year we would know the gender and have a name picked out. I dreaded this time soon after the miscarriage. When I found out I was pregnant again, I thought it would be much easier to go through this due date with another one to look forward too.

I don't feel like writing anything pretty or spiritual today. I am wishing things were different. I wish there were something I could do to change reality. I wish I could wake up and find out it was all a nightmare. I'll just leave it at that today. I will be fine, but I could use your prayers. It's hard to see the big picture because my grief is so great. I will trust my God because He is faithful even when I am faithless.

Names

When I was grieving my first loss, it really bothered me that I didn't have a name for my baby. At first I was going to name my baby Isaac for two reasons: 1. God revealed to me when I would get pregnant and I didn't believe Him (more about that another day). 2. I had to give the baby back. It's a meaningful name to me, but I couldn't get past the fact that my baby might be a girl.

I knew that the name was for me and not my baby, but I still wanted to get it right. So I started searching for gender neutral names with good meanings. I found some Hawaiian names with beautiful meanings like "held in the arms of heaven", but I couldn't think of my child as Hi'ilanni (HEE ee LA nee). I started getting discouraged because names I liked had lame meanings and names with good meanings were unacceptable. I searched for every meaning I could think of in baby name search engines and then I went on to online lexicons (a listing of every word in the Bible and its meaning). I ran into the same problem -most of the words were not very pleasing to the ear.

I prayed for guidance. I told God how important it was to me to have a name. I told Him I wanted to call my baby something other than "the baby". I wanted to think of my baby as a unique person with an immortal soul. I needed a name to reflect all this. Half way through writing this post, I took a break to listen to Beth Moore's weekly broadcast. She had this to say upon learning the name of her unborn granddaughter: "There's something about a name. Instantly, the baby has an identity. Instantly, it's no longer a pregnancy nor even just a baby, it's a person!...You don't really give your heart away to something until you know its name." It was nice to hear some reassurance that I'm not the only one who feels this way, although I have to disagree on that last part; I had already given my heart away.

I searched a few more words before I thought of "peace". I already knew "shalom" was a word for peace, but I was drawn to the adjective form of the word, "shalem". The meaning blew me away! It was everything I wanted for my baby; everything I knew to be true! Shalem means "complete, safe, unharmed, peaceful, perfect, whole, full, at peace with God". I knew this was my child's name. Shalem. It's not something I would name my baby had he/she been born. It wouldn't fit if the baby had lived, but now it fit perfectly. "Complete, perfect, whole, full" - no more images of my baby's unformed body left unfinished. No, there is nothing wrong with my baby. Not anymore. "Safe" quieted my need to protect. Nothing can threaten my baby ever again. "Unharmed" released my guilt that I may have done something to hurt my baby. "Peaceful, at peace with God", means I can have peace too.

I don't have a name for my third child yet. I looked, but nothing fits yet. I know he or she is "shalem" as well. I hope to find a name that reflects my baby's role in my life and his or her status as a dearly loved child. I think God will give me a name at the right time, but first I need to get to know my baby a little better. You might wonder how I can get to know a baby after it's gone, or maybe you can relate perfectly. I have to search out what this baby means to me and reflect on all I imagined and hoped for. I need to recognize all the ways I am forever changed. No matter what name I choose, I know both my babies have names already. Jesus tells us in Revelation about those who overcome, "I will also give him a white stone with a new name written on it, known only to him who receives it."-Revelation 2:17.

Triggers

I haven't posted in awhile because I didn't really know what to write about. I felt out of touch with my feelings and sort of numb lately. I have been functioning pretty well. I get things done despite the fact that I sometimes don't know what day it is. By grace I've been keeping the bills paid and important things like that. It isn't that I didn't want to face my pain, it's that I couldn't find it. I wrote in my journal last Thursday, "I am not missing my baby or wishing things were different. I'm not lonely or despairing. I'm not feeling sorry for myself. I'm not feeling much of anything." Pain comes out for a little while and then becomes a distant memory or an undercurrent of sadness and I am reminded it will be time to pay the piper soon. You might be wondering if you read this already, but this is how it's been for me all along with this miscarriage. I expected the crushing weight of loss that colors everything I see like the first time, but for better or worse it's different this time.

I never know what will trigger the pain. I was in Wal-Mart a few days ago and we passed through the baby aisle. I looked at the onesies and talked about how cute they were and it didn't phase me. I felt pretty proud of myself for being able withstand a trip through the baby aisle. But then I saw the diaper bags and had to look away. Why were the onesies innocuous, but the diaper bags too much? I have no idea! Another thing that bothers me is the little decisions I make about what to put in my body. It is a split second thought process in which I think, "Is this safe for pregnancy? Oh yeah, I forgot that doesn't matter anymore." I used to pray for God to bless my food for the nourishment of my baby's body. It hurts a little every time I pray before meals.

I'm actually okay with seeing and holding babies. In fact it's been therapeutic to see that I can enjoy others' children without feeling sorry for myself, but a few days ago another one of my friends posted pictures of her new baby on facebook. This time I felt like I had been blindsided. I didn't instantly feel happy for her. I hate to admit it, but resentment was the first feeling that washed over me. I wondered what was wrong with me. Then I remembered that she announced her pregnancy around the time I found out I was pregnant the first time. My first baby would have been due December 6th.

Holidays are difficult for me. I've never really been affected by holidays before. I lost three of my grandparents over the years and holidays were never a problem. Since my first miscarriage, every holiday has brought me in touch with my pain. So far, I have gone through Father's day, Independence day, my birthday and now Halloween. They're all pretty minor holidays. The best I can figure is they represent time marching on without my babies. Or maybe they bring me back to childhood when I lived for holidays and now the joy they once brought me is weighed down by my new reality. Either way, it takes a lot of energy to get through these days. I hope this isn't always the case.

On Sunday I read the Forward in Christ (our church body's magazine) on the way home. There was a little section titled "A Baby's Life Begins". It brings tears to my eyes to read it over. It lists what happens in a baby's development starting from fertilization. I read through it and figured out when my babies stopped growing. Even at 6 weeks 6 days and 6 weeks 1 day gestation, they both had quite a bit going on. They both had beating hearts and nervous systems and all the blueprints to grow into the unique individuals God created them to be. It hurts when I think that I lost two irreplaceable individuals. I know I will see them again someday and learn what makes them special, but for now I need to grieve their absence.

It's good to be in touch with my pain. I feel relief to let go of the numbness that dominated because I like to feel how I really am. I don't knowingly try to anesthetize my feelings; I like to face them head on so they don't wreak havoc in my life through subconscious choices. I learned the hard way that this is how I want to live and I can do it through Christ. The feelings that come with miscarriage are too powerful to face head on. I believe God knows this and designed us to deal with grief one small piece at a time. He's letting triggers into my life so I can grieve at the right speed for me; sometimes in big ways and sometimes in ways that are barely perceptible. I'm missing my babies now and that's okay.