My heart is racing right now as I sit down to write this post. It’s going to be a difficult one – I’ve put it off and put it off and wondered if I should really write it. But I feel like I should. I hope that by sharing this story it will offer some hope, some comfort to someone. That it will speak to someone, be just what they needed to hear.
We need to go right back really to December 2014, just over one year ago. I had been having a few health problems for a good number of months, the least of which being my iron levels were continually extremely low. At the beginning of the school holidays that year I made an appointment to go to the doctor – I never go to the doctor. I’ve only really been there when I’ve been pregnant, and that was just to say, “I’m pregnant, can you book me in with the midwives please!”
That day was somewhat devastating – the Doctor advised that really my next course of action would be to have a hysterectomy, that I would be referred to a consultant who would be able to advise me further. I was floored, completely floored. I told him that we wanted more children, our family wasn’t finished. He was very understanding and sympathetic, but advised that really if we wanted more children, we should really do so ASAP. He would be able to give me medication for 3 or so months to ease the symptoms that I was experiencing at the time, but he wouldn’t advise being on it for much longer than that. He said, “you are literally bleeding to death!” (Sorry – maybe a little TMI !) So I left the surgery that day, being told that we had 3 months to get pregnant and after that it was better that I seriously consider the hysterectomy option!
It wasn’t really the best start to Christmas that year. I remember coming home and feeling just completely floored, overwhelmed, in a state of shock. I rang a friend, whom I knew had been through something similar and thankfully she was able to put things into a bit of perspective. She was able to point me in the direction of a consultant who would be able to offer perhaps a more specialist insight into what my options were.
Fast forward a few months to March / April and we were pregnant! I was over the moon! I cried with so much joy when that little phrase appeared on the test “Pregnant. 1-2”. I phoned hubs at work to share our good news and we were both delighted. After months of worrying and wondering, it seemed like our dream of having a 4th little one would come true.
But then, at the beginning of June those dreams started to shatter. We were getting ready to go out for a wee family day trip, when your worst fear as a pregnant woman happened – I miscarried. Cutting a long story short, I found this to be one of the most cruel experiences I have ever had. Something that is so hard to understand – why would God allow such a terrible thing to happen? What had I done wrong? Was it something I ate? Did I drink too much coffee? Was it all the housework I had done that weekend? I was just over 9 weeks, we had the date for our first scan, but as the nurses kept saying, “it just wasn’t meant to be”, “it’s just one of those things”. None of which were very helpful! It was then that if ever I had to trust in God’s perfect plan and timing it was then.
It left me wondering, are we ‘meant’ to have more children. With talk of a hysterectomy and now a miscarriage – the odds seemed to be against us. As I tried to come to terms in accepting that and ‘moving on’ and dreaming other dreams for my life now, God stepped in. I had started to look at options for returning to work next year when L would be in P1. I even re-registered as a teacher, thinking that perhaps I would go back as a substitute, maybe even a classroom assistant. At the start of October I registered with the online register of substitute teachers and got my Access NI check through. Trying to convince myself that God had other plans – that there was a ‘new thing’ for me.
God did have a new thing for me – at the end of October, on my birthday – I got that little phrase again, “Pregnant 1-2”. My reaction this time was a mix – of joy and fear. Joy that we might just get our little dream, but fear that the unthinkable might happen again. Every single day since, and I imagine for the next 6 months, I am TRUSTING, TRUSTING, TRUSTING and leaning on His everlasting arms to get me through. We were so delighted to share our news with people on Christmas Day – what a gift! What a lesson in TRUST and PATIENCE 2015 has been for me. (catch up on that here.) (I do have another story to share on God’s perfect timing, but that’s for another day!)
I hope that this offers someone out there a little hope – a hope that things WILL work out for the best, perhaps not in the way that you had planned or imagined, but in a way that is perfect. In a way that is even better than you could have ever imagined. Just trust and wait.
I have kind of ‘rushed’ through a lot of details and feelings and experiences here, but I hope to fill in those details as the days and weeks go by.