When there is Pain in the Waiting

Sometimes waiting is incredibly painful. It’s hard to find the beauty in the ashes, and life seems to keep throwing punches at you, bringing you to your knees over and over again. Call it the valley, the desert, the waiting period . . . whatever it is, it brings this strange marriage of beauty and pain.

pain in the waiting

December brought some excitement into our lives. During the bustle of Christmas, we discovered we were pregnant. Though massively exciting, it was a bit of a jolt. We didn’t plan for it. To be honest, I didn’t really think it would happen. It had been over two years since we’d had our daughter, and since we hadn’t been preventing, I began to think that perhaps I was suffering from infertility as a result of her traumatic birth. The fact that I’m even writing this now is a miracle.

Once the shock of the pregnancy wore off, deep excitement set in. We started brainstorming names and discussing our guesses over the gender. Our dream of a large family was becoming a reality.

But that dream was abruptly cut short five weeks later. I started miscarrying and soon found myself being wheeled into an emergency D&C, as my body was not handling the miscarriage well.

After coming home, pain set in. I was already in physical pain, but at this point, a deep-rooted ache swelled over my heart. Losing that baby suddenly made me realize how badly I wanted him. I began to question God’s goodness. This little one increased our count to four babies. Four babies that we would not be able to hold or love this side of heaven. Four babies who are resting in Jesus’s care.

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This is a bracelet my husband got for me a few weeks after our fourth miscarriage, to celebrate their lives.

Then, when I thought the pain was gone, we lost another one. The pain wasn’t gone. It was just hiding behind self-dependency and fear. It erupted into another cycle of questions about God’s goodness. Why would God allow us to lose five children? Why?

The months started dragging on, and we have found ourselves in a period of painful waiting. Each month brings hope for another. Each month brings fear we’ll lose another.

I started battling doubt. I started letting the enemy feed me lies. Is God not giving us another child because I’m actually a bad mom? How do I have the right to be sad when God has already given us four beautiful children? Perhaps I don’t really have the right amount of love to give to a large family.

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Our four living children showing the numbers of the babies we have in heaven.

On and on the lies cycled endlessly in my head. I tried to lay myself down in gratitude, but I was hurting, and I’d be lying if I said I’m not anymore.

Waiting hurts. Sometimes it makes you want to scream. Sometimes it sends an ache the spears to the center of your soul. Sometimes it fills the nights with lonely cries that only God and you know about. It makes you feel like you’re in a valley that you’ll never climb out of.

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But I’m learning that there is beauty in the waiting. It makes you more dependent on the One who knit together your very being. It makes you relentlessly rely on the One who can hold you through it.

So, as I wait, I don’t stop dreaming. I don’t stop hoping. I start resting. Resting in His goodness. Resting in the unknown. Being thankful despite the pain. I go on waiting, even though there is pain in the waiting.

Click {here} to see more of our journey with pregnancy loss.

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