Unifying Expressions

Life can be so strange sometimes, full of mixed feelings and experiences, sometimes culminating in a big contradiction. Many of you know that I recently miscarried. It was absolutely horrible. Maybe the worst thing I have ever been through in my life. And many women experience this. Many, many women. I didn't realize how many until it happened to me and many sent the message..."me too".
 
   My Farmer and I were ready to have a family. We had waited over two years, fun years of travel, starting a coffee cooperative, and being a young married couple in a hut tucked away in a small village. But we both felt ready to start a family, and have long been excited for this time. And I know it's a hard time and everything changes, but My Farmer and I tend to thrive in busy and hard things. We also have always felt because our lives are so different, and our story so bizarre, that the Father really had his hand on our future children. That they would be as unique as our life. In whatever form that took.

    We started trying and the next month. Tada! Those two red lines. I couldn't sleep that night. Pregnancy happens to tons of women, yes, but it's never happened to me. I had never had a life, a LIFE, from Ahn (the LOVE of my life), growing inside of me. We were....we were blissfully happy. I couldn't wait for my first appointment. We told most of the people in the village because I was acting different (life here is close quarters so anything changes and people know). The village was crazy excited. There was so much rejoicing for this life.

The first doctor appointment came and lets just say it was a little traumatic. Hospitals are not great here, neither are doctors. Most of them don't speak the local language. So I went in and they didn't speak to me or look at my face, or say normal things like "congratulations there is a baby!"  "How are you?" They just yelled loudly in another asian language and pointed at my sonogram. Then talked about fluid and how my baby was gonna fall out in broken english. They ended up saying I should be fine if I am on bedrest. Awesome.

   I kinda wrote them off a little because what they said made no sense to me. They tend to freak people out here unnecessarily. But I slept a lot, and rested a lot. Stopped working out. And prayed a lot. But to be honest I really thought my baby was going to be fine.

   I'll never forget that moment it changed. It went from fine to horrible. About two weeks later I was watching the Breakfast Club (yeah you can laugh) on my computer when sharp painful cramps started. They lasted for about an hour, and Ahn held me. I could hear him praying out loud. I did what most Americans do and grabbed my phone searching if cramps were normal. Everything said it was most likely fine unless there was blood. I tried to go to sleep and not stress too much.

  The next morning there was blood. And I knew. I lost my mind. I called my family. My mom had never had a miscarriage. I really never thought I would either. I'm healthy, strong and good genes, it won't happen to me. We went to a different hospital, a much better one and the doctor confirmed what we thought. He said no movement, too small and no heartbeat. He looked at the floor and said, "I'm sorry." Those words you never want to hear a doctor say.

   Ahn and I get stared at wherever we go. It was impossible to hold it together. I know so many people witnessed my shocked tear streamed face leaving the hospital that day.

   I read everything on the internet about miscarriage. From what I read, I prepared myself for some bleeding and cramps, because that is what the internet said.

Now. This is what blindsided me. This can be different for every woman. But many women (I now know) have the exact same thing happen to them. My body went into labor. It was the most painful thing I had ever experienced. We don't have a bathroom, so I went outside pacing and having bits of that precious life I couldn't wait to hold and name, come out.

It was horrible.

The labor was so horrible because it was so much pain, and it wasn't pain that was gonna bring joy at the end. Only death.

This is where life can be a great big contradiction. My lowest moment. Ahn and I are in such shock and sorrow. I'm tired and devastated at this point it's been going on for a few hours. Our neighbor and close friend, Mecayo, an older momma who manages Auxano, walks outside and sees me. She knows exactly what is happening. She runs over and holds me up, knowing I'm tired. She brings me inside, there are a few other women there and her son. I'm not super coherent but I remember the other women weeping with me. Putting hands on my shoulder, and Mecayo's son Tai, holding my hand and praying, as I writhed and cried. They genuinely felt deep grief with me, I felt it in those tears and embraces.

 In that moment, in a culture that teaches to keep most emotions inside, our community openly grieved with us. I felt such love, such support, such transparent unashamed love and grief. I will never forget it. This lady, who I used to dislike, who has done things I won't understand but who I have grown to rely on and cherish so dearly, was physically holding me up so I have strength.

The next day would bring almost every woman in our community, many who have had a miscarriage as well, to my door. Crying, hugging and sharing their pain or sorrow with me. This culture can many times be very hard and lonely when struggling because of this deep shame and fear to share one's sorrow. My farmer was honestly shocked by the response to the miscarriage.

You see this country, feels so different. And I know women here feel different from me, but my fight from the beginning is to show them that we are the same. In that moment, through that deep grief, we knew and understood each other. Because in the end we were all just women, and they saw that truth too.

This is the contradiction. In moments of deep suffering, the Father reveals joy. He reveals love. Grief and suffering tend to show us who we are, and who are friends are. It shapes us in a way only hardship can. It makes us strong, it makes us love better and walk wiser. My brother Jesse used to call it walking with a limp. We walk strong but those who have experienced hardship have a limp, it doesn't stop them but it has changed them. And those with limps walk together and recognize when they meet each other.

This miscarriage is still painful. Every morning I wake up and remember I'm not pregnant, and want to cry. Every time I see some pregnancy announcement, or pregnant lady I think..."that should be me". My Farmer felt the pain as deeply, he was dreaming of that child everyday, with kisses and talks to my stomach and all. The absence of our little baby in my womb has hurt him deeply.

Now every woman grieves and deals differently, but I feel like miscarriage is kept so silent. I can understand why, there are lots of feelings of shame. "What did I do?" "Why couldn't I sustain this life?" "Whats wrong with me?" But as I talk to others, I realize how common it is, especially for the first. And many times it's completely out of our control.

One of my best friends took some beautiful pictures that we were gonna use to announce our sweet babe.  These pictures are so beautiful, even though they bring some bittersweet feelings, remembering that happiness. But I wanna put a few on here, because that little life may not have mattered to many people, but for all the women who have experienced this grief, and for all the women who will. Celebrate that life, cry for that life, cherish that life, and never forget. That is crazy thing about grief, it can be unifying. Across the world, in the most remote places of the world, a woman has gone through this, and has felt it. These are the unifying expressions of pain and sorrow that make us human, and make us need the Father so much more. I believe it is the deepest human desire to be known and loved fully by God and by their fellow human beings, we get glimpses if this kind of intimacy in the pain.

For any woman going through this, who has or who will, hang on honey. It is the worst, your heart will heal but you will carry the scars and you will never forget that child.  One of my favorite series of books is the Chronicles of Narnia. It hits my soul in so many places with it's storytelling. But while I was feeling the pain in losing this child, I read out loud pieces of the Magicians Nephew, when Diggory is grieving over the imminent death of his mother, and he looks up at Aslan...and Aslan's big lion eyes are filled with tears. He weeps with Diggory. Diggory even feels that Aslan is greiving more deeply then he himself. I don't know why it comforted me, but it did. Maybe it will comfort you.

Don't forget you are not alone. Grief comes to all of us. This life is fleeting and we will fade, but while we are here let us be good to one another.