Time passes extremely slowly when you are waiting. That spring was difficult. In our social circles it felt like everyone was pregnant and having babies. All of a sudden people didn’t know what to do with me. Do we invite her? Will she be ok? We can’t not invite her… every invite that came in the mail hit me like a shock to the heart, but I was determined to work through the pain, so I went. To every single one.
I tend to be a bit stoic – you know the type, the ones who hold it together so they can go home and cry…particularly handy if you tend to be an ugly crier. The problem is this, I didn’t know how to rejoice when my own heart was broken? I would give the best gifts I could afford and put love into the wrapping, I’d play the games and eat the food…and go home and cry…On top of this, we had returned to the 28 day cycle of viciousness…and it felt like all the showers, happened not in the hope part of the cycle, but when I knew for sure I again, was NOT pregnant.
I had picked up a copy of Sarah Ban Breathnach’s book, “Simple Abundance” and in an act of defiance to my situation, I began a gratitude journal. My greatest solace in that season though, was my work. Working with Bible School students was not only fun, but an around the clock distraction. They had constant needs and the programs were intensive. It was highly rewarding to pour into those precious and receptive young people. I was back in the band every morning and teaching in the afternoons, leading field trips in the evenings and on weekends and still working part time in the music & drama departments…the heart was empty, but my schedule was full.
I was asked to assist leading the Student Band on a cross Canada tour and jumped at the chance. We packed up when classes ended and headed out to the East Coast. I have found that it doesn’t matter how busy you are, if you have things that need dealing with, the quiet moments become loud with thoughts of the very thing you are avoiding. I was avoiding the fact that my due date was coming up quickly, and I was still not pregnant. Deeper than that was the fact that here I was doing everything I could to provide opportunities for others to connect with God (in leading worship) but my own heart was closed to him altogether.
In a cruel twist of fate, my due date had been Mother’s Day. Yeah. So that May Sunday, I found myself alone in the Pastor’s office of a small church in New Brunswick, crying out to God for the strength to get through a service that would include a special time for mothers… The team had decided to share testimonies throughout the service, I had planned on sharing about how I became a Christian, but the words came out of my mouth about my Baby in Heaven who should have been born that day, and how I would choose to rejoice in my sorrows and draw near to God anyways…and it was like a warm oil poured over and though my heart in the moment and the pain of loss was gone… there was still the awareness of it, but no pain. A number of women found me after the service, sharing their own stories of loss and shame and hurt and I found instant fellowship as a we prayed together through our shared loss. A day that could have destroyed me, became a day of healing.