One More Week

It’s been one more week without Cain, and I feel as though I am on a roller coaster that has no end in sight.  Even though I know the end is there, I just can’t see it.   After every emotional plunge downward, I keep thinking this is it. It’s about to slow down. Instead, there’s another drop ahead and another and another.  I keep telling myself the ride will plane soon and I won’t feel as though I am about to go off of the tracks, but most days, that’s exactly how I feel. And that’s okay. It’s to be expected. After all, it’s only been 3 weeks to the day since we said goodbye to Cain.  Only, and yet it seems like an eternity.

I wish I could adequately explain to people who have never lost a child how overwhelming the pain can be sometimes.  It really is a roller coaster of emotions.  I can honestly say I had no idea until I experienced it myself.  I had lost loved ones before, grandparents and close, dear friends, but little did I know the pain I felt then would pale in comparison to the pain that was yet to come. Losing Cain has brought with it so many emotions, and ones that I would never wish anyone to experience.

Most days it’s hard to keep my mind from thinking of the what if’s. What if I hadn’t gotten sick early in my pregnancy? What if I didn’t love him enough? What if I had carried Cain to term? Would that have changed things? Am I being punished for all of the wrong things I have done in my life by being forced to let go of that which is most precious to me?  At times the anxiety feels as though it is going to send me off the tracks of the roller coaster. I have to reign it back in and tell myself God has this under control. He knows the how scary the ride is, how hard it is, and He’s there, riding with me.

So many people have told me that they are amazed by my faith during the loss of our son, and it is to that that I would like to respond.  I want to make certain that people understand my journey adequately so that God’s goodness and mercy are fully reflected.  My faith has been far from strong, especially in the past few years. In fact, until recently, I can honestly say I have never been so far away from God, from His grace, from His presence.  I really thought He had given up on me. I could barely hear His voice anymore, and I reasoned the things I wanted to do while still knowing God would be extremely disappointed in me, knowing I was directly going against His will for my life. After all, it was my life, wasn’t it? Wrong.

When I found out we were expecting Cain, I had an epiphany. I started to realize that my life was spiraling out of control.  We already had one child that we weren’t raising according to God’s will, and now we were about to have another.  How was I going to lead our children in the right ways, the ways of God, when I never spoke to Him, when I didn’t follow His will for my own life.   Something had to change for the sake of our family.   God was speaking to me. I was listening, but not as much as I soon would be. 

When we went for our 12 week ultrasound and discovered that Cain might have medical problems, I was distraught. The feeling that something wasn’t right, the one you get in the pit of your stomach, just wouldn’t go away.   I immediately increased my conversations with God. I knew He was using this trial to bring me closer to Him, to teach me that it wasn’t my life.  It belonged to Him, and that I should be living like a life that reflected that.  I started praying every day, reading more of His word, really seeking Him, but I still wasn’t attending church.   When we received our test results and found everything was normal, I breathed a huge sigh of relief and thanked God for his mercy, for answering my prayers.  Little did I know, our trials had only just started.  

Over the next several months, we continued to see different specialists, all telling us that Cain looked great. He as growing as he should be. His heart was perfect. It appeared that all would be well, and we would have a healthy baby.  Then at 27 weeks, that all changed when I found out I had polyhydramnios (too much fluid).  Reality soon hit me.  Our problems were far from behind us, and I needed God and his mercy now more than ever. 

When I was admitted to the hospital at 27 weeks, I was paralyzed by fear and anxiety.  I didn’t know how I would make it through the possibility of 13 weeks in the hospital away from my family, away from my first son, Coop. Needless to say, I had a lot of time on my hands so I started talking more to God, asking him for guidance, for help to make it through this, for the safety of my unborn child, and to help me be the Godly role model that my children needed me to be.  And I prayed that through all of this, God would show me the will, His will, for my life.  Even through all of the tests, all of the uncertainties, I knew that the possibility was there that our son might not make it. I just never thought it would really happen. I never thought God would allow that to happen to me.

For the first time on Sunday, I walked into church, happy, eager to be attending, and I listened to the words that God spoke to me.  I still don’t know how he is using me in the midst of our tragedy, but I know that there is a reason for all of this, and I intend to listen this time, to stay in His will because only there can I handle the trials of this life.  I know God is using this trial to bring me closer to Him, and honestly, I don’t know where I would be right now if I could call on Him for strength to get me through days like today, and to be able, through it all, to thank Him for His mercies, for His many blessings, to thank Him because no matter what I have done, no matter how far I have strayed, He can still take me and use me.  That is truly what it means to be loved. And isn’t it wonderful to know that love is now holding Cain. I think it is. I know it is.