Moving Forward...

The past few days have been hard for us. For some reason I have spent a lot of time lately remembering our wedding vows. "For better or worse." This week we have definitely experienced the "worse." I know that things could certainly get worse, but I'm not lying when I say that I think this has been the worst experience of my life.

To lose a baby - even a baby I've never held in my arms, kissed, hugged - has been harder than I ever thought it could be. I know that there are many people I know who have had a miscarriage, but I never imagined the pain they were going through. It makes me feel a little guilty for not knowing how to care for them - not understanding a little about the horrifying loss they were experiencing. Now that I have gone through it, I want to hug them all. I want to hear their stories. I want to mourn the loss of their little babies with them. I hate that there are so many families out there that have suffered a loss like this, but it's nice to know that there are so many people out there who can relate to us.

Matt and I have been staying at home most of the time the past couple days. We have been sleeping weird hours for sure. Our near-sleepless night at the hospital really threw off our sleep schedule. We have been clinging to each other a little bit more, and we have definitely been crying a lot. I am really struggling with my own thoughts and feelings. When we were in the hospital I seemed to feel peaceful about what was happening. I was sad and shocked, but I knew that God was there with us. Somehow I felt peace - maybe even a little joy - to be served by such caring nurses and doctors. They really seemed to get how I was feeling, and they did everything they could to make us comfortable and encouraged. They all assured us that we did nothing wrong. That nothing we did or didn't do would have changed the outcome of our pregnancy. I felt calmed by their assurance then, but it seems like since we've been home Satan has somehow slipped into my thoughts and started to convince me otherwise.

What if I was in better shape? What if I had eaten better? What if I had put my feet up more? What if, what if, what if???

I've also been starting to hear other questions pop into my head: Why did God do this to me? Why did God take my baby? Why couldn't God just let us have it easy for once? Why does everyone else get to keep their baby, but I have to lose mine? What is God punishing me for?

I know that these questions are WRONG. I know that what the doctors and nurses told me were true. There was nothing I did or didn't do that caused this miscarriage. I know that God isn't punishing me for anything. Of course I don't want other people to lose their babies just because I lost mine. I'm not the person these questions make me out to be. I KNOW THAT SATAN HAS STUCK HIS BIG, FAT, JERKY, BUTTHOLE SELF INTO MY HEAD IN THE WORST TIME IN MY LIFE! I hate him for so many things, but today I hate him most for that.

Jesus has already won this battle, so I think I'm just going to claim His victory for myself. I am dealing with enough this week to take some guilt on too. That's that.

My sister and niece came to the house for the day. Our house is a WRECK, but they didn't seem to care. At least I cleaned the toilets before they came over! I seriously need to clean...anyway. We spent the day just hanging out, scrapbooking, playing with toys, and had lunch at Hershey's Drive-In in Veedersburg. Kamryn seemed to enjoy our cherry slushies. I'm not sure if she had ever had one before. I think she was impressed by the magic of the slushy, and I was glad to share with her. I was thankful she didn't ask about Baby Squooshy. I'm not sure if her parents have talked to her about what happened or not. I think we decided that if she asks about Squooshy, we'll just tell her that Squooshy went to live with Jesus. I don't want her to forget about her little cousin, but I'm glad she forgot to talk about him today. Tomorrow Kamryn turns 3, and I am looking forward to celebrating with her.

We're going to my aunt's house tomorrow night for a big family birthda party. I know that people are going to give me that pitiful "I'm so sorry" look. I know that people will hug me a lot, and want to console me. I love my family, and their support means so much, but I have to admit that I'm nervous about going. I don't want to be a big bummer at the party. I don't trust my emotions enough right now to say I won't break down crying at some point tomorrow night. I can't bear the thought of people feeling sorry for me. We'll see what happens tomorrow...