"Am I enough?" I asked my husband one lonely Saturday night while lying in bed. I had hit rock bottom, and felt like I was spinning out of control. Two days prior I had woken up and realized that our second baby was also going to make it to heaven before we'd have the chance to bring he or she home. The reality that hit me that night was tougher than I could have imagined.
I may never bring a baby home.
Suffering another loss on top of the crippling one that we had just gone through a mere 6 months prior seemed like a cruel joke. Just weeks before my husband and I got the news that both terrified and excited me - baby #2 was on the way. I knew I was pregnant - I had another special and peaceful dream, there were direct signs that it was coming - and even though I knew what I was going to see when I looked down at that stick, it still was a surreal moment. Tears flowed, I hit my knees to give thanks and then ran to tell my husband that our dream of having another child was coming true.
I went through a slew of emotions - excited, anxious, frustrated and then giddy. Day after day, new feelings. Shortly after finding out I was pregnant I shared the news with some other mamas that have suffered loss - there were a handful of them that were also expecting, and I wanted to share my joy too. There were 4 of us that were going to be mommies again, I was thrilled - for us all!
Until I tried to fall asleep that night, that is. The only thought I could think of was, "1 in 4 pregnancies ends in loss." How awful. It was in that moment that I realized that no pregnancy of mine would ever be the same. Ever.
I guess statistics don't lie. Weeks later I found myself curled up in a ball on the couch, crying my eyes out to episodes of Parenthood, realizing that I was 0 for 2. What an awful feeling. At least my babies have each other, I kept telling myself as I scrolled through newsfeeds of friends announcing due dates right around when I would have been expecting again.
Babies were being made. Babies were being born. Mine were dying.
While different, the two losses have brought out the same gut-wrenching feelings. I'd like to say, since I've been here before, that I'm handling them better - but I fear I'm not. Or wasn't. Depends on the day, I suppose.
That night, while bawling my eyes out to my husband, I wanted to know if I was enough. If we never brought home any babies, would I be enough for the rest of our lives? That question lingered on my mind and in my heart for days. Until I realized God was asking me the same thing.
"Am I Enough?"
"If the only babies I ever gave you are the ones you've had to say good-bye to, will you still trust me?"
"If the only chance to know your children is when you get to heaven to meet them, do you believe in my promises to be faithful to you and bring you home to meet them?"
"Do you believe that I still love you and have not left you, even in this?"
"Am I Enough?"
A month later and I can say that I'm getting there. I wish I could tell you that my response has been, "Yes, Lord - you are enough," but it hasn't. I'm not there yet - I don't know how long it will take, but I will tell you that I won't stop trying.
O Joy that seekest me through pain,
I cannot close my heart to thee;
I trace the rainbow through the rain,
and feel the promise is not vain
that morn shall tearless be.
George Matheson, "O Love That Wilt Not Let Me Go"
I believe that hope is greater than fear. I believe that love can mend broken hearts. I believe that this will make me a better, stronger mother. In the end, I believe that none of this will matter when I see my babies and we get to spend our forever together.