She wasn't a band-aid

I remember after losing my first baby almost 5 years ago having this desire to become pregnant again.

Then we found that that Emma Grace's pregnancy had been a partial molar pregnancy.

Then I was not only grieving the loss of my baby and dealing with possible cancer, but also being served a wait time until we could have another baby.

It felt like a cruel joke.

One that we made through, keeping our eyes on having another baby eventually.

Finally, I was pregnant again.

We lost that baby too.

After that I had a raging fire inside of me.

I didn't just want another baby, I had to have one.

I had to have a baby with every single fiber of my being.

This need was something beyond myself.

I remember feeling desperate.

My need for my baby was like a need to eat.

I thought, that if only I got to have a baby, a real, live baby that this desperation would go away.

So, I became pregnant again.

We lost the baby.

At this point, I was simply beside myself.

When I look back at that time in our lives I have no idea how we survived.

This was taken days after we found out we had lost the baby.

From the picture, I can tell that we are trying really hard to put on a happy face.

I see pictures of myself from then and I am a shell.

A shell of a person just trying desperately to survive.

To not hate myself and my body.

I felt as though my body had failed me.

It was made for this.

This is what made me a woman and I was failing at it.

I was failing and there was absolutely nothing that I could do about it.
I knew that this wasn't true, that my body and I hadn't failed, but it was such a hard feeling to shake.

So, after losing baby number three I became pregnant with baby number four.

I remember thinking that maybe this baby would stay.
I had had three miscarriages and didn't bad things happen in threes?

That must mean that this baby would stay.

I held such hope for this baby.
Clinging to those hcg and progesterone numbers.
Even when the bleeding started, I still held out hope.

My mom and I took Adison to visit my ailing Grandfather.

We had pulled into a resturant when my doctor's office called.

My numbers were going up, but they weren't doing what they should.

I had an u/s scheduled for the following Monday.

In my mind Monday was a goal that we could hopefully reach.

On Saturday morning, I awoke and the contractions started.

Then I knew.

After this miscarriage, my doctor decided to do some extra testing.

Everything came back as normal or inconclusive.

Less than comforting.

We were given the all clear to try to conceive again.

I got pregnant that first month.

I was immediatley put on progesterone and aspirin.

I expected to lose the baby but clung to hope.

The baby, later to be known as Ainsley, stayed in there.

I pinned my hope and what seemed like my very future on this child that the Lord had blessed us with.

As the weeks passed I started to think I might just get this baby.

That maybe I could hold it together.

I didn't really enjoy the pregnancy the way that I had wanted and hoped too.

Not because there was anything wrong, in fact, everything was perfect.

But with losing so many babies, I couldn't relax and believe that I might actually get one.

We made it to delivery at 39 weeks.

Even in the hospital I couldn't relax.

She was still inside and I felt terrified.

After delivery, I finally felt myself exhale.

I released that tension that had resided in my very soul for the last 2 years.

Ahhh.

I had had my baby.

I healthy, live baby.

All would be right with the world again.

Or so I thought.

I had thought that a baby would be a band-aid.

That they would heal all of my hurts.

What a heaping load of responsibilty to place on one so tiny.

But heap it I did.

Eventuallly though, I came to realize some truth.

That nothing and no one would be able to take away all of that pain.

That it was unfair of me to expect my child to do that.

I learned what I should have known all along.

That while I trusted the Lord with everything else, I had held onto my pain like a security blanket.

I hadn't shared my burden with Him the way that I should have.

The way that He wanted me to.

So, slowly and painfully I gave that to Him too.

The way that I have tried to give everything else.

Because, while it was completely unrealistic for me to expect my child to this, I already knew the One that could do it with me.