How To Be Better Than Job's Friends

As I've tarried down this miscarriage road, I've done a lot of reading in the Bible.  Job is always a source of comfort for me, but now that it's a loss of life that I'm dealing with, it speaks even greater to me.  One thing that struck me as horrid was Job's "friends".  Instead of comforting him, they accused him that his miseries were all his fault and that he needed to repent of some sin.  What miserable comforters!

I am so very thankful that my friends are the complete opposite of Job's!  Almost everyone just listened and said they were sorry.  And that was just what I wanted and needed to hear.  That they were sorry I had to go through this experience, sorry that I was hurting, sorry that my babies were gone.  It never got old to hear 'I'm sorry'.

I did hear some well meant comments, but they sting deeply, much like the comments that Job's friends made:

"Just be thankful for the ones that you do have"--yes I am thankful for the children I have here to watch and grow up, but that doesn't mean I didn't want the ones that I lost!

"You can always have more"--yes, I assume that God will bless me with more, but again, I wanted those babies.


"The power of the mind and spoken word are quite powerful"--gasp if you will, but I did have someone insinuate that I thought the miscarriage into existence, and once I spoke the word it came to be.  I do not believe that our minds can come up with thoughts and that we can speak them into existence.  I am not God, I cannot just say 'tree grow' and have it happen.  You may disagree with me, but please, don't ever utter anything of the sort to a mom who just lost her baby!

"Perhaps there is a reason this baby couldn't come into your family because of something that is going to happen to you guys, like a job loss, or something major like that."--ok, so you are saying that my God has enough foresight to see that something awful is going to happen like Phil loses his job or our house burns down.  But He doesn't have enough power to see us through it and so He kills our baby to make this potential situation easier?  O.H. W.O.W.

and the one that made the top of the list:
"perhaps it was for the best"--besides wanting to punch this individual and walk away, there wasn't anything to do but smile, nod, and quickly terminate the conversation.

I know that the list seems lengthy, but you can be relieved to know that these were only from three different conversations.  So, again, overall, I had great comforters!

Want to know how to be a great comforter yourself?  Here are some great things you can say when someone is experiencing a loss in their life.

• I'm sorry for your loss
• I'm sorry that you are experiencing this pain
• I'm sorry that you are hurting
• I'm sorry that this happened
• I'm sorry
• I'm sorry 
• I'm sorry

Ok, I think you get the gist.  We humans have a hard time dealing with death, and we want to offer some sort of comfort, or reason, platitude, something.  But the best thing that I have found that can be said is 'I'm sorry'.

Fresh Perspective

I will admit it, I struggle with my body image.  I don't do scales very well, the numbers going up and down even by tenths of a pound totally mess with my brain.  This struggle led to binge eating in high school, and as a young mom, bulimia.  Take heart in knowing that through Christ I have healing and victory!  I don't feel compelled to binge, and I don't struggle with bulimic thoughts anymore, and that is huge in my life.  I do however, still struggle with body image.  My brain still plays tricks on me, and I'm sure Phil gets annoyed with me asking if the same outfits look ok on me.

Suffice it to say, that I took a huge blow after losing Zara and Caeles.  Not only were my babies gone, but so was my body shape.  My breasts jumped up a whole cup size and I had mini engorgement to get through (so thankful for Wesley to be nursing still and help me out there!), and my waistline softened up by two whole inches.  I knew the day after Caeles left us that I had the postpartum jelly belly.  I had no idea how 'bad' it was until I tried to wear my jeans once I started to feel better.  Couldn't even put them on, talk about shock!  Nervously I got out my tape measure and checked, and was shocked and angered to see it read two inches more than normal.

I cried, I ranted and raved, I moped and whined.  How unfair it was that I hadn't even been showing the world that I was carrying life and now I have to deal with a flabby tummy.  To be perfectly honest (and to sound super conceited) this new body of mine is what has been one of the hardest things to come to terms with.  Yes I lost my babies, and I miss them, and what could have been.  But they are in heaven!  I can't stay upset about that too long when I think about the eternal joy they are experiencing right now.

But this body, ugh.  I can't even stand to look at myself in the mirror.  It's like the constant reminder of my loss.  I try and take the least amount of time to get ready now so I don't have to face myself.  I'm sure I look pretty pathetic, but just don't tell me ok?

This morning though, for some strange reason, I took a close look.  And I am so glad that I did.  I looked at my breasts now spilling over because my bras don't fit anymore.  I looked at the saggy, wrinkly flabby, muffin top- if- I- try- to- wear- anything- without- elastic- belly.  And the Spirit gave me a fresh perspective.  It almost brings me to my knees to think about it.  He told me to quit thinking about it as something ugly.  It's not a scar, it's a beautiful reminder that I CARRIED LIFE.  It might have been brief, but there were two precious children that resided within me.  Yes their time was way too short in my life, but they were there, and I love them, and I know they love me.  I am blessed to be able to carry life, not every woman can.  

Instead of griping or getting angry about how I look like now, I'm going to try and be thankful for the visual reminder of Zara and Caeles' presence in my life.  I don't have any pictures, toys, clothes, footprints, or id bracelets of theirs.  Nothing physical to pull out of a box to remember them by.  All I have left of their them is my belly.  I can look down or in a mirror at any time of day and see that.  And I can remember that I carried them, briefly in my body, but now forever in my heart.

Zara Amethyst and Caeles Jasper's life stories

Dear Zara Amethyst,

This is the story of your life, albeit brief.  Know that you were wanted and loved and that mommy misses you.

November 15, 6am
I took a pregnancy test, mostly to prove to myself that I wasn't pregnant, that what I was feeling was all in my head!  Shock of my life to see it say positive!  I started shaking and decided to keep the knowledge of you hidden in my heart until prompted by the Spirit to say otherwise.

November 17
I told Phil tonight and I think he was even more surprised than me.  We decided to schedule and ultrasound to know when to expect your arrival before we told anyone.

November 20
I had a dream about twins, one girl, one boy.  When I awoke I said to myself 'wouldn't that be crazy!'

November 23, 6am
I awoke to use the bathroom.  Feeling wetness as I walked I decided to investigate and turned on the light.  I discovered blood in my jammies.  My first thought--oh no the baby, I'm losing the baby.  My second thought--the Lord giveth and the Lord taketh away, blessed be the name of the Lord.  I go research and I discover that it could be a miscarriage or it could be random pregnant bleeding.  At 6:30 I wake Phil to tell him.  I cry and he prays for God's will to be done.  Throughout the day I continue to spot, and in late afternoon I call my friends Heidi and Rebecca and ask for prayers.

7pm--I'm feeling achy and mildly crampy.  I dismiss it because I don't want to face reality.  At 8pm I feel a gush, I go to the bathroom and am now actively bleeding.  And then I smell the unmistakeable odor of lochia.  Crushed and saddened I return to the couch to finish watching my show.  The next two hours your life flowed out of me.  I called Heidi and cried with her on the phone, then I went and woke up Phil to break the news to him.

Thanksgiving Morning
Heidi calls to see how I'm doing and I start crying again.  My brother Taylor is there and I can tell he's wondering what's wrong.  After getting off the phone I let him know, and promise to tell family so he wont be burdened by the news.  I call Mandy and Mom while driving to Heidi's house.  They are surprised and offer support and prayer.  Mandy is willing to come and be with me, but I tell her no it's thanksgiving she needs to spend it with her family.  Mom wishes she was here to give me a hug.  I get to Heidi's home and am surrounded by loving arms and we sob together.  I decide to go to thanksgiving dinner and not tell anyone.  I didn't want family hovering over me smothering me with their concern.  By the end of the day I realized that I had not bled since awaking, and both Mom and Rebecca mentioned the possibility of a vanished twin.  Given my dream just a few days earlier, I take heart and hope it to be true.  I am anxious for December 1st to come so I might know what the ultrasound will reveal.

A long time ago I decided that if I ever lost a baby I would name her Harmony.  So for a few days your name was Zara Harmony.  However, the Spirit spoke to me and said you needed a more beautiful name instead of one of sorrow and so I changed it to Zara Amethyst.  Zara means shining or flower and amethyst is a precious stone used to build the Holy City where you now dwell.

Dear Caeles Jasper

This is where your part of the story comes in.  Your presence was even briefer than your sisters'.  You were a hopeful dream and a powerful longing.  But when you left our lives you were a mighty force of nature.  While your passing was strong and defining  I am thankful to have that experience.  In your story you will see when we chose your name Caeles, but here is where I would like to say how I came by the name Jasper.  The day after you left, I was reading Revelation, I wanted to try and picture where you were at now.  When I came to the building supplies list of the Holy City Jasper is mentioned more than once.  I thought it very fitting and so did your father.

Monday November 28
I have been having light bleeding off and on throughout the day.  My womb is achy and feels worse when I'm on my feet.  So I try to rest more frequently than normal.  I tell Phil when he gets home that night of my achiness.  At 7pm I am having light contractions and I tell Phil that I am upgrading my status from achiness to contractions.  My heart sinks as I feel like I'm in the first stage of labor.  It is now a waiting game, but I don't have long to wait.  At 7:20 while putting Wesley's diapers away I feel a gush.  I hurry to the bathroom.  A large clot and lots of blood flow into the toilet.  I sit calmly on the toilet for a while gently pushing clots out.  At 7:30 I ask Phil to bring me a washcloth.  He instinctually knows what is going on and brings me a red dish towel.  Problem being the sink is just out of reach and I cannot get up due to the bleeding.  At 7:40 I ask Phil to come sit with me, I didn't want to go through it alone.  I ask him if he's ok with naming you and Phil says yes as long as it's gender neutral.  I hate gender neutral names but am willing to hear what he comes up with.  After a few minutes he says 'I think I've got it.'  Caeles--latin for heavenly dweller (we are pronouncing it 'kay-liss').  Through our tears we decide it's perfect.
8pm--I am still bleeding and passing clots frequently.  I am a bit concerned as to what it within the realm of normal.  I ask Phil to search the web and see.  He goes and takes Wesley and tries to find information.  And as I've discovered through this journey, information on miscarriages is sparse.
8:30--I am not feeling well.  It's been over an hour since your passing began.  I am scared about my health and I ask Phil to call his sister since she's a doctor.  I have him ask about the sweats, cold chills, nausea, uncontrollable shaking.  All within the realm of normal, but she asks him to consider taking me to the ER.  By now all I can do is rock back and forth moaning.  I remember thinking 'geez I really sound like I'm in labor.'  My hips ache, my lower back aches, and I just want to get off the toilet.  I ask Phil to bring me a bowl so I can stand and get some relief as well as wash my hands.  Oddly enough, he brings in my quart measuring cup bowl, because the handle would make it easier to hold.  I stand rocking back and forth and notice that in under five minutes there is a quarter cup already.  Exhausted I sit back down.  Now my arms are going numb from fingers to shoulders and my legs from feet up to knees.  I feel ill, and I dry heave and I lean forward to rest my head on Phil's empty chair.  I call out to him that I feel dizzy and that I might pass out.  He says 'I'm taking you in to the ER, what do you need?' I'm sitting there naked because I had stripped down once the seating started and I think 'hello crazy I'm naked here!'  But instead I respond a pad and some clothes.  I hear him on the phone telling someone that he's taking me in and to meet us at the hospital.  Then he comes in and starts dressing me.  I am too weak and tired to be much help.  Then he notices that the toilet is clear and asks me how long ago I flushed.  I think maybe five minutes and tell him I had some diarrhea and that was why I had flushed.
9:15 Phil makes a judgement call and decides we aren't going in and he's going to help me to the bed.  I tell him that I don't feel good and promptly pass out in his arms.  When I came around 10-15 seconds later (which felt like hours, I thought I had been dreaming), I didn't know where I was or what day it was and promptly puked, thankfully in a container!  Slowly the fog lifted and I regained some mental clarity and weakly made some jokes to reassure Phil.  By the time Heidi came (the 'somebody' that Phil called at 9), I was feeling better.  One of her first questions was when did the bleeding stop?  Right after Phil called her, she called Paula her minister's wife.  Immediately they prayed for the bleeding to stop so I wouldn't have to go to the hospital for a D&C.  They prayed together at 9:06

The first time I woke up to go to the bathroom, Phil helped me to the edge of the bed.  As he stood me up I said I felt sick.  He quickly sat me back down and turned around to grab the trash can. Next thing I knew I was waking up on the floor not sure where I was or how I got there.  Phil said 'you needed to go to the bathroom, do you still need to go?'  I did, and we decided that perhaps it would be best if I crawled and then Phil lift me onto the toilet.  Being upright was very difficult.  I felt shaky and nauseous and would pour sweat.  Phil helped me back down and I crawled back to bed.  Each time we got up to go to the bathroom I was either dry heaving or passing out.  It was a long night for us both.  By morning Phil decided that my being upright was too strenuous on my body.  Meeting even further shame and humiliation for the rest of the day Phil would help me to the edge of the bed where I could pee in a bucket so as to remain horizontal.  Just crawling those few feet back to the pillows would leaving me heaving and trying to catch my breath.  I started taking iron pills, oj, and munching on cashews.  By midmorning I could sit propped up without feeling ill.  As I started to feel better I had a goal to be able to walk to the bathroom by the end of the day.  And at 4pm I met that goal.  And by 5:30 I was assisted to the table for dinner.  The days since have met with lots of knitting, tears, phone calls, visits from friends and family, and blessings beyond belief.

beauty for ashes

There is no easy way to say you've had a miscarriage.  No cutsie term to help soften the blow.  No beating around the bush.  The words just fall out of your mouth and the listener is stunned for your loss. It's never anything you see coming.

I had a miscarriage.

I've read that 1 in 4 pregnancies end in a miscarriage.  But until you experience it, you don't believe it to be true.  And if you tell others, you find out that there are lots more women who have gone through such a loss than ever should have to.  It's a private club that no one wants to join.

I had a miscarriage.

I keep feeling like if I repeat the term enough to myself that perhaps the sterility of the phrase will help numb the pain of knowing that I have two babies waiting for me in glory.

But I'm not quite ready to tell the whole story of my babes quite yet.  Check back later.  When I'm stronger, and emotionally ready to share.

Right now, just know that my God is an awesome God whose capacity for compassion has overwhelmed my life.  And that's the part that I want to share.

The first night when baby #1 left, every time I got up to use the bathroom I heard Gungor's Beautiful things playing on the radio.  There is no earthly explanation why an older song should be playing four times throughout the night at the exact time that I got up to use the toilet.  When I read the words to the song I knew that God was ministering to my heart to tell me that it was ok.  If you are unfamiliar with the song, feel free to click the link and listen while you read.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uumI-PdeZzY

That was thanksgiving eve.  Thanksgiving was really hard.  I took Phil's advice to be thankful for what I had around me and not what I had just lost.  It wasn't easy, but through my tears I told God I was grateful for what He had given me.

We had hope that this was just a vanishing twin act.  And for the next five days we prayed and hoped, and grieved and hoped.

I am always amazed at God's work on Sundays.  It seems that Pastor Scott preaches on what I had just been studying that week.  This week when I sat down and looked at the topic for the sermon I had to hold back my tears.  Timing.  A sermon on timing.  And the verse that he spoke on was the first verse that God gave me through this loss.  Ecclesiates 3:11a--And yet God has made everything beautiful for its own time.

I kid you not, each day when I am feeling overwhelmed by my sorrow, that song comes on the radio.  And I know that it is God wrapping His arms around me comforting me.  Reminding me that everything is beautiful in its own time.  Even if that time was too brief.

Monday Nov 28 baby number two joined Jesus in paradise.  And as sad as losing babies is, I look forward to telling their story.  After the second loss, I had this song playing in my head.  I haven't actually heard it on the radio, but it plays frequently in my mind.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hk7_SBxYSZs

I went on a quest to find the scripture that this song came from.  I am thankful for technology, it made it so much easier!
Isaiah 61:3
To all who mourn in Israel,
he will give a crown of beauty for ashes,
a joyous blessing instead of mourning,
festive praise instead of despair.
In their righteousness, they will be like great oaks
that the Lord has planted for his own glory.

Whenever I am having a rough time in life.  I always turn to Job.  His story always brings me comfort.  When I read his reaction to the knowledge of losing all his earthly possessions and children I was reduced to tears.
Job 1:20 Job stood up and tore his robe in grief.  Then he shaved his head and fell to the ground to worship.
Read it again, perhaps you, like I, missed something crucial in this verse.  I've read this book of the Bible more times than I can count, and yet I missed that he worshipped.  Yes, in the midst of his pain of loss, Job worshipped God.
And there I was, lying bed mourning the loss of my babies asking 'why'.  Telling God that was all I wanted to was 'why'.  And here before my eyes was a man who lost everything and he chose worship. I asked God to give me a heart to worship Him.  I ached for that desire to be a woman of righteousness.

 I believe that God heard my plea, and in the footnotes of another verse I got my answer to 'why'--if we always knew why we were suffering, our faith would have no room to grow.

That was a good enough answer for me.  God is allowing me to grow, and in growth comes a closer relationship with Him.  Which is what I have been desiring and pleading for before His throne.  He said in Isaiah 55:8 that His thoughts are not my thoughts and His ways are not my ways.  I would have never imagined that losing a child would have brought me closer to my Maker.  But it is.  I keep looking to the Word for comfort and the knowledge of where my babes are.  Comfort He is providing.  Comfort, love, compassion, understanding, open arms, crying shoulder, and hope.  The hope that one day I will meet those little babies that He so tenderly made.  The hope of no more pain and sorrows.

Little ones, I know that you are in the best place possible, and I am smiling for the beauty that you have embodied.  And I thank our Maker for allowing me to be your mother for such a short time, and for the beauty for ashes you have brought to my life.