Paper Crown Coronation

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Last month, I shared my miscarriage story.  The experience was heavy on my heart and sharing it with you allowed me to lift some of the burden.  I am so glad that so many of you have been touched.  The response was overwhelming and I'm grateful for all of the kind words. It means A LOT to me.  I thought that maybe sharing with the world was the final step before "getting back to normal".  Little did I know there was further healing to be done.

I wasn't so naive to think that the thought of Andrew would never hurt again.  A little piece of me hopes I will always miss him .. like since I don't have any bodily scars or anything to remember him by .. that having a piece of my heart being forever affected will be my "proof".

The thing is, and I promise this isn't bragging, I handled the entire event rather well.  I explained that the reasoning for this was because I was completely and overwhelming blessed by God.  I stand by this.  Those weeks during and after were some of my closest moments with Him.  I'm fairly certain my conversation with Him did.not.stop the entire time and it was SOO incredibly refreshing.  There was no room for sadness because I felt full and at peace. 

Please don't misinterpret what I'm saying though ... I miss Andrew deeply.  The thought of all the things we will never do and never say still give me pause.  I still count the weeks and figure out how far along I would be if he was still inside me. The thing is .. I just know, in the center of my soul, that it was always going to be this way and that I need to spend my time thinking about all the things I DID say to him and all the lessons I have learned during and since. Posting the story was my celebration.  It was my way of honoring Andrew and God and reaching out to other mamas and daddys that have or will experience the same thing.  In posting it though, I slipped.

It wasn't conscious and I wish I could somehow rewind and try again. (Isn't that how it always is?)  My only guess is that posting my story in some way "closed" that chapter and I felt I was "done" healing.  My nonstop conversation .. stopped.  Not completely, of course, but I found myself reaching to turn my radio back on in my car instead of driving to work and not realizing it was turned down the entire time.  I found myself with a mile-long to do list that came out of nowhere.  I basically found myself filling up my precious moments with non-precious things.

I decided that "I got this" and, in my own strength, decided to move on.  That subconscious declaration made ME the center of my universe and made ME the solution. 

It fashioned together a glorious paper crown 

and propped it arrogantly upon my head.

Thus it's easy for a peacock to flaunt its feathers

when there is yet no wind to ruffle them.

My storm was brewing though.  

I just couldn't see the clouds 

behind my electric sun.

As I was mentally parading around, proud of my ability to move on, heal and grow, I was also preparing for when I knew it could rear its ugly head again.  I had a game plan.  I was in control.  I was prepared for the holidays and for our anniversary.  For our friends' upcoming births and showers and the March birthday we couldn't celebrate.  What I wasn't prepared for came in the mail a week and a half ago.

The hospital bill.

There was just something about receiving the bill that made it all real.  It was THE BIGGEST slap in the face.  I just wanted to call the hospital and scream at them until my throat was raw.

HOW DARE YOU CHARGE ME FOR THIS!? 
I DIDN'T EVEN GET MY SON OUT OF THE DEAL!!

I was broken. I just wasn't expecting it.  It's hurricane winds savagely ripped the crown from my head and I was left bare. Then the tears fell.

I realized I just don't "got" it.  I am so incredibly weak and feel utterly foolish for thinking I have even a fraction of the strength to get through this without Him.  Frankly .. mourning sucks.  You feel great and then seemingly out of nowhere the floor drops out.  I honestly feel like I should have one of those 80s shirts that say "I went to ___ and all I got was this lousy shirt." .. except mine would say "My heart broke and all I got was a lousy $15,000 (before insurance) hospital bill". Bad humor, I know.

I know it doesn't seem like it but this post isn't about doom and gloom.  The past 11 days have proven to be fortifying.  My conversations have increased slightly and hospital payments have been made.  I know I have a long way to go.  I can admit that now.  I admit that I'm perfectly ok 99% of the time but that doesn't give me the right to ignore the 1%. 

My sullied crown is gone .. for now.  I know my Type-A flesh will override again and I will be left preening in false glory.  Let this post be proof .. only His crown reigns.

Where my crown falters in heavy winds, His stabilizes. 
Where my crown dirties, His will ALWAYS shine.

Cheers to MY King.  The one and only.

Finding Life Within Miscarriage

This post was not what I wanted to write. It’s taken me a while to get my words together and, honestly, I still don’t think I have. Maybe I never will. I don’t know. All I know is that I need to get this posted so that my mind and heart can rest. So please bear with me as I get this all out…

What I wanted to announce today was “I’m going to be a mommy!” and then gush about all the details.  I wanted to tell you all about our announcements to family and friends and plans for the nursery and future.  I wanted to share with you until my heart exploded and explain why I have been absent from the blog (because I couldn't tell you yet, duh).  Instead, I will say this:  "I was a mommy and it was life-changing."

Mark and I were going to be the very proud parents of a little boy in March. Unfortunately, his time was cut short before we could meet him. I still like to think we will one day. For now, we are focused on being thankful and joyful.  We named him Andrew Elam Simoneau. His name came after he passed and it seemed very fitting. Andrew is Mark’s middle name and was always going to be the name of our first born son. We honored this because even if he was never to be technically born, he deserved the name no less. Elam is Hebrew for “hidden”. It just fit.

"Then Christ will make his home in your hearts as you trust in him. Your roots will grow down into God’s love and keep you strong. And may you have the power to understand, as all God’s people should, how wide, how long, how high, and how deep his love is. May you experience the love of Christ, though it is too great to understand fully. Then you will be made complete with all the fullness of life and power that comes from God." 

~ Ephesians 3:17-19

We have been blessed through this entire experience. There was never a point where the sadness took over and where hope was lost. In all actuality, it has been one of the “clearest” times in my life. They say that you can have joy without happiness and I truly think I finally discovered what that meant. I have felt a constant presence in my life and an unbelievable peace. I miss my baby but I know God is in control.

"Now we see things imperfectly as in a cloudy mirror, but then we will see everything with perfect clarity. All that I know now is partial and incomplete, but then I will know everything completely, just as God now knows me completely."
~ 1 Corinthians 13:12

I know so many people that have gone before us in this journey. I am sure we will know many that will follow. I certainly wouldn’t wish this on anyone. But if you do find yourself in this situation, don’t despair. It hurts in the moment. It’s supposed to hurt. It’s in the darkest corners where the light shines the brightest. Sometimes He needs to take you there so that you can see. It’s not punishment. It’s nothing you did. It’s not that you were somehow undeserving. Children are a blessing and they are given to us to raise and to love. Just remember, though, that they are ultimately His. So through the tears and the disappointment .. find your Joy. You will be blessed one day. You will hold a baby in your arms and realize that THEY were the one meant to be there. It doesn’t replace the baby lost .. it only makes you appreciate more the one you’re holding.

"For I know the plans I have for you," says the Lord. "They are plans for good and not for disaster, to give you a future and a hope."

~ Jeremiah 29:11

There is only one plan that matters. His plan. It is much better than my own and I have to keep reminding myself of that. I am a planner. It’s in my nature and, quite frankly, it’s a part of me that I nurture. So with that being said, OF COURSE I had a plan for Andrew. It was safe and perfect and made total sense to me .. which is why it failed so beautifully. God has a bigger plan for me, for Mark and our life. He had a plan for Andrew, too. We have spent these past couple of months focusing on what HE wants from us. HIS future for us is what matters. Andrew’s beautiful heart started and stopped by HIS loving hand. It wasn’t a complete tragedy.. it was an example of love and hope.

"Consider it all joy, my brethren, when you encounter various trials, knowing that the testing of your faith produces endurance. And let endurance have its perfect result, so that you may be perfect and complete, lacking in nothing."

~ James 1:2-4

Please don’t misunderstand me. This journey has been one of sadness and loss and I don’t want to downplay that. It’s just that the hope and joy are the fruit that need to be enjoyed. When we got the official word that Andrew wouldn’t make it, I cried. I knew in my heart of hearts that something wasn’t right but I clung to the hope that I was wrong.. that maybe a miracle would happen. What I didn’t embrace was that my “internal warning bell” WAS the miracle. I was prepared. I was ready. I had already begun to mourn before even knowing anything “officially”. I clung to Him during those couple weeks of limbo harder than ever before in my entire life. So when the tears fell, they were in the realization that MY selfish plan wasn’t meant to be. Once that dawned on me .. I haven’t cried a tear since. I didn’t cry when his heart finally stopped and I didn’t cry when they had to surgically remove him afterwards because my body wouldn’t let go. I just can’t cry over the loss of something that wasn’t mine to begin with. Instead, I choose to celebrate.

I would say that for the most part I feel back to “normal”. I still have about a week left of physical recovery from surgery. Heart-wise I feel whole. We are still moving forward and looking ahead to the future. We hope to try again as soon as we can and know God will embrace us. I have SEVERAL friends that are pregnant right now and they all seem to be due around the time I was. I actually find solace in their journeys. I love talking about their babies and I truly love each of them.

I have gotten only one momentary twinge of disappointment/jealousy and it was this morning actually. I found out a friend of mine/acquaintance is expecting (of course around the same time as we were). I have plans to see her next month and, a few weeks ago, I was mentally having fun preparing to tell her. Finding out she is pregnant and not being able to squeal “me too!” when I see her gave me some pause but that’s ok.

It may have been the first but I am sure it won't be my last moment of uncertainty.  I know that the months to come will test me.  The holidays will pass and eventually Andrew's "birthday".  And I know when the moment comes and I get pregnant again, I will struggle.  I will feel moments of stress and worry.  I will be scared and I will make plans to compensate.  The thing is .. that's ok.  Because I will also have the flame of hope and the reminder of grace from these past couple months.  I will have prayer and I will have peace.  I will have tangible proof that it always works out. 

I will have HIM .. and I just don't need anything else.

*As a side note: If you know me in real life, it’s ok to talk to me about it. The reason I say this is because I feel like God wants to use me in this. If you know someone who is having a hard time with this kind of situation and you think they would want to talk to me .. PLEASE have them contact me. Even if I can’t give them any words of wisdom (which I doubt I can) .. it can at least be comforting to talk to someone who has “been there”. Miscarriages and D&Cs can be scary so I would love nothing more than to hold someone else’s hand through it.