My Birth Story Part 1: Infertility

I think the experience of my journey into motherhood is one long story, intertwined in ways that make it difficult to look at each birth separately, but I'll try in order to make following along a little easier. I'll also attempt to write it in a way that glorifies God and does not detract from anyone else's experience.

Our story starts with infertility. Our situation was not severe, but it took us over a year to get pregnant the first time. When we did I was elated. My heart instantly bonded with baby, as did Josiah's. We were only pregnant one week before problems arose, but it felt like months. The weekend that I started bleeding, Josiah and I had planned to take my sisters Jessica and Sarah to Hershey Park with some free tickets we'd been given. I had to sit them down and tell them that I didn't think we could go, because I was pregnant, but I thought I was loosing the baby. I fear I traumatized my poor young sisters who had probably been praying for a baby for me. We went as a family to the urgent care center. Joseph, John, Jessica, Sarah, Mom, Josiah and I... waiting together for news. That first night, there was none. (I will often look back with fondness on how they stood with me that night.) I went back to my family home, slept through my sadness until the moment came when I knew. I knew the baby was gone. A deep painful stab and then it was over. There was no more pain--instantly the discomforts of pregnancy were gone, but I would have given anything to have them back. I cried all day that day. It wasn't until late that night that Josiah asked me what I was thinking that I responded, "Haven't I told you?" And he responded, "You haven't said a word to anyone all day." If you know me, you know my normal is processing through words. When he said that, I realized that a monologue had been taking place internally all day, but it had been too much to say to the words audibly.

The Lord truly did sustain me, and my sadness melted away in a deep sense of acceptance. God held the life of my baby, and myself, in His hands. He would bless us in His time. I won't say there weren't moments of sadness in that next year, because of course there were. Baby showers, mother's day, and careless remarks stung as I processed them while producing in me an empathy for others who experienced the same thing. I think the hardest part was knowing that I actually was a mom already, my baby just wasn't here with us. In my heart, I was a mom.