Courageously Expecting

Shortly before this pregnancy, I came across Jenny Albers' (at the time not-yet-released) book, Courageously Expecting. It was advertised as a 30-day, Scripture-based devotional for women navigating the mingled joy and terror of pregnancy after loss -- which sounded wonderful, though I wondered (rather cynically) if I'd ever have a reason to read it. Lo and behold, five days after the release date I was holding a faintly positive pregnancy test. It took me two more months to actually order the book, a testament in itself to the protective layer of caution I'd wrapped myself in. Even then, I felt far from confident that this pregnancy would last -- but that was part of the reason I felt I should read it in the first place.

As I started reading, I was so glad I'd summoned up the courage (no pun intended) to place that order. It took me far fewer than 30 days to finish, because I couldn't stop reading! It was such a blessing to find someone who could relate to what I felt, but who also pointed to Scripture as the source of truth about both my past and my future. No empty, "feel good" mantras or affirmations -- just trust in the One Who is writing my story, even if that story involves more loss. Jenny is gentle, but doesn't beat around the bush; once you've experienced pregnancy loss, there is no comfort to be found in saying "of course it won't happen again!" In her words:

"It's hard to imagine your body producing a living being when you know so intimately its ability to destroy one." (pg 71)

Hope. It's a precious commodity when the line between life and death seems so fine, and so out of your control.

"Most people would say I was 'expecting,' but it was more complicated than that. What was I expecting? Was I expecting life or death? Was I expecting to leave the hospital with or without my baby? Was I expecting a full-term birth or an early death? And even in the case of a full-term birth, I knew I wasn't guaranteed to deliver a living child." (pg xvi)

The uncertainty can be crippling. Waiting, day after day, for the signs that your worst nightmare is coming true...again. Unable to say the words "when the baby's born," qualifying every statement about the future with the word "if." As someone who has always delighted in pregnancy, I have found it deeply saddening to lose not only my precious babies, but also the innocent joy of expectation. But:

"While pregnancy after loss isn't exactly the way we'd hoped to experience pregnancy, isn't it enough to help us cling to God's promise of a better day? Isn't today, with your womb full, a better day than when it was so heartbreakingly empty? Hasn't faith, even the smallest amount, carried you to this point?

God has given you this child right now, and even if you can't predict what the future holds -- even if you're scared and unsure and hope seems impossible to grasp -- might the life that's inside you right now be enough to spur you toward embracing that elusive hope in a tangible way?" (pg 123-124)

I'll admit, I was skeptical when I ordered this book, unsure of what kind of theology I would find in its pages. So many, even in the Christian community, are quick to undermine God's sovereignty in an attempt to make bereaved mothers feel "better." They clearly haven't thought through the implications of a god (little "g" on purpose here) who desires to spare us from pain, but is incapable of preventing it! But Courageously Expecting proved to be filled with Scripture that underlined God's providential work in our lives. Instead of skirting the issue, Jenny acknowledges that even the babies we've lost are part of His plan -- and just because we don't understand why they couldn't stay doesn't mean that plan (or its Author) aren't good.

"Remember this: we have a God who knows us better than we know ourselves. He knows where we're going even when we don't, which is why we can be comforted even when our sense of control dissolves in our hands. There is comfort when we realize that our pregnancies are in hands far steadier than our own, and that our lives are being formed into something good even when we feel defeated." (pg 202)

I feel like this post probably reads like a book advertisement (extra points if you pronounced that ad-VER-tiss-ment in your head!), but I couldn't help but share a book that was such an encouragement to me. While it didn't magically strip away my fears -- which would be an unrealistic expectation -- it helped me to process the emotions I felt and give voice to worries I was scared to verbalize. 

Of course, all women process pregnancy after loss differently. I don't recall feeling much anxiety with Laddie, my first "rainbow" pregnancy. I know I was concerned in the early weeks, but once we'd had a positive ultrasound and passed the gestation of our previous loss, that mostly vanished. This time, it's different. Six losses in a row, including one at 16 weeks, will challenge even the most persistent optimism. But at the same time, so much grief has also taught me something about the value of joy even in uncertainty. By 20 weeks, I felt mostly at peace. By 30 weeks I found myself saying, "when the baby comes." Now, at 38 weeks and planning a homebirth, preparation has been essential! Granted, I've been blessed with a blissfully smooth pregnancy so far, I've reached the "viability" milestone (when a baby has a good chance of surviving preterm birth), and am well past the point that we've ever lost a baby. But I'm not oblivious to the possibility of loss, even though I'm now in what's considered by many to be the "safe zone." If only there were such a thing! I know I can't guarantee the outcome I desire, but I also know that the precious life inside of me deserves to be celebrated, no matter what.

As we've been blessed to add children to our family over the past decade, I've sometimes felt wistful for my first pregnancy; that may sound odd, but there is just something magical about that once-in-a-lifetime experience of becoming a parent for the first time. Granted, I didn't want to relive all of it! Even the passage of time hasn't totally erased the memories of bewilderment as we navigated those early weeks. Each successive pregnancy/birth/postpartum stage has grown easier, as those stages become more familiar to both my mind and my body. But somehow, my twelfth pregnancy feels like a first pregnancy (not counting the almost constant sight and sound of this baby's four energetic older siblings!). I've taken more bump photos than any of my other pregnancies, thrifted and sewn maternity and baby clothes, and taken such delight in preparing for this much-anticipated baby. For many loss mamas, those activities are just too painful or scary to contemplate, even in the third trimester; each mama's story is unique, and so is her response. For me, I've been waiting for years, and I don't want to miss out because I was too scared to enjoy this answer to many prayers (both mine and others'). 

I'd highly recommend Jenny's book for those who are pregnant after loss. I'm incredibly grateful to be here, counting down the days to our sweet baby's arrival -- this moment in time seemed so unattainable for so long. But no matter my circumstances, I'm always, always, carried in the arms of the One Who gives and takes away, and Who gave up His very own Son for me. That assurance is my true hope, and allows me to enjoy every blessing He grants along the way.