So here is the thing. That “protecting” I was talking about? It didn’t work. Before I even got to a doctor, I miscarried. A high and then a low. Many of you know what that feels like. On top of that disappointment of the loss, I felt embarrassed about having told so quickly. Feeling alone in this journey I had not walked before, I approached my husband.
“Rusty … can we talk about the baby?”
“I think … I think it might be better to assume it was a false positive.”
“That doesn’t seem very possible … I have done some research now and those tests can give false negatives. But, I don’t think false positives are a thing that happens much, if at all.”
“Well the alternative is believing that God promised us a baby in your dream, delivered on His promise in the same timing, and then took it from us within a month … does that make any kind of sense to you?”
I took my husband’s advise and put off processing and grieving until “later”. Feeling alone in the journey certainly was a good catalyst to get my mind and emotions going elsewhere, so I could function well. We had to get on the road again quickly for work and that kept us busy. Before we knew it the “later” had become “much, much later”.
But despite our slowness in opening up this part of our hurt to Father to give our faith a chance to grow and be able to accept this with a peace beyond our understanding. He was still faithfully working behind the scenes. We would find out what else was happening during my 34th year many years later.
So you will have to wait too.
The Good Argentumware. 