My Ten Children I’ve Never Met

Ten miscarriages. Sometimes that number overwhelms me. I have laid awake many a night dreaming of who they would be. I named every single one of them. I have daydreams about who they would become, what their voices would sound like when they called me, “Mom,” and what special traits they would add to our family. For five years, our family suffered through these tragedies and it has been a long, difficult road to healing. But, let’s back up a bit. This has also been a journey and I think I am finally starting to get the lesson I was meant to learn.

Nine years ago life was sailing smoothly. We lived in Florida, I was working, the girls were getting older and more self-sufficient, and Dustin and I were enjoying more and more “us” or “me” time. Ahhh…comfort. I mean, my kids were four and eight and could get themselves food and use the remote. WE (meaning Dustin and me) could sit back and chill, sleep in a little, nap if we so desired. What more did I need to do, my kids were half-way grown, right? We basically decided that we lived on Easy Street now and why upset the cart with another baby? Then I got pregnant…

I am ashamed to admit that I was less than thrilled. In fact, I cried. They were not tears of joy. A thousand and one things ran through my mind: ย I’ll lose my body tone, we won’t get to retire when we want, I’ll have to pack a diaper bag again, I’ll be nursing, so no more late-night wine chats with Dustin, we won’t be able to go (insert exotic destination here) for a long time. The list went on and on. But, I wasn’t really saying these things out loud. That would be horrible. What kind of mother or person would I be to utter such things out loud? So, I tried to be happy.

After a couple of weeks, the prospect of having a new little one started to sit better with me and I slowly grew in my excitement. I reminded myself that I had always envisioned Dustin and myself with three children. So, my heart softened and I naturally fell in love with this little life growing inside me.

Then one day, I started spotting and cramping and I just knew that something wasn’t right. We went to the doctor and he confirmed that my baby was dying. Tears flowed from my eyes and the doctor half-heartedly tried to console me. I remember looking across the hall-way into another room and there was a VERY pregnant woman waiting for a doctor. I was VERY jealous of her. I saw a look of pity on her face and that made me cry even more. I had a D&C, which only deepened my misery. The doctor told me that miscarriages are common. He told me not to worry and I should be able to conceive again. He talked as if he was reading from his medical textbook. I had no idea that I was about to embark on the most painful, but fulfilling journey of my life.

Ironically, that first miscarriage birthed in me a small desire to have a third child. But, after some time passed, I cuddled back into my comfort zone. You know, the zone where I thought my kids were basically grown and I was only needed on a minimal basis? My heart was twisted and I slipped easily into selfishness. Yet, Dustin and I did decide to try again and it didn’t end well.

Over the next five years, I had to suffer through eight deaths of my unborn children. Each one became harder and harder to bear. To be clear, I do not equate myself with a parent that has lost a child at birth or some point after birth. ย That is a whole other set of pain that deserves our solemn respect. I don’t even have an inkling as to what they go through. But, for me, this pain was (and still is) very real and very raw.

Early on, I just tried to stuff the pain and move on. Then in some of the last miscarriages, I finally started talking to God. I couldn’t understand. Why us? I mean, we were good people, good parents. One time when I prayed, driving home after another D&C, I distinctly heard God say to me, “I’m saving you from something.” I had no idea what this cryptic message meant. I figured it meant He was saving me from injury or worse, so I chalked that up as a sign that we weren’t supposed to have any more kids. God possibly needed us for some other purpose. This is what I told myself.

Through all this, not one doctor would test me to see what was causing me to miscarry–until the second to the last miscarriage. We discovered that I have low progesterone levels. Then I discovered that I am gluten-intolerant. Gluten can screw with your hormones. So, I decided to go gluten-free and I knew that if ever I got pregnant again, I had to insist–DEMAND–to get on progesterone immediately.

So, in the summer of 2013, Dustin and I toyed with the idea of trying for another baby. But, this time, we decided to pray about it first to see what God had in mind. I won’t lie and say I was unafraid. To go through another miscarriage seemed unbearable. However, I felt God leading me down the path of pregnancy. I needed to trust Him when He told me that all would work out. I needed to hope that I would smile down into a tiny face again one day. Dustin felt the same way. He said he really felt God tell him that everything would be okay. When Dustin asked God why we had to suffer through so many miscarriages, he felt God say, “You weren’t ready.” I pondered what this meant.

During all this time, I read a beautiful short book titled “My Birthright For Soup” by Sarah Siders. On page 20, I read something that spoke directly to my heart.

“I thought to myself maybe this is how God makes our hearts and lives ready for the things we want. He makes us want them desperately. And the desperation, the longing, is what forges in us the humility and character and beauty to care for the gift. To receive it with grace and gratitude.” –Sarah Siders

The tears started to stream down my face and I knew, I KNEW, what it all meant. “I’m saving you from something.” ย God was saving me from myself–my selfish self. “You weren’t ready.” I wasn’t ready to receive this gift and children are most certainly a gift. God was purging me of my selfishness. Thank God for it. My priorities were obviously out of whack, seeing as I was more concerned about Saturday naps than bringing a beautiful human being into the world. I was more concerned with retirement escapades than receiving the joys of a child. Thank you, God, for this lesson. I do recognize that something was truly medically wrong with me. I don’t believe that God caused my miscarriages in order to teach me a lesson. But, through challenges and tragedies, God, in His fatherly way, always seeks to foster our continued growth. He sees it as an opportunity to mold us into better people if we allow.

I needed to come to my knees. I needed to seek God through all the pain. Finally, thankfully, Dustin and I got it right. ย This time when I found out I was pregnant, I smiled. I happily rushed to Dustin and we hugged and laughed in our delight at the news of the pregnancy. My heartfelt light. I desperately wanted this child and I was ready to receive him or her in grace and gratitude. I welcomed this new life, stripped of my misguided selfish desires that once crippled my heart. In May of 2014, we welcomed our little man, Jeremiah, to our family. True joy radiates in me. He is a lasting joy that is better than any cruise or extra money could provide. I can safely say that this experience caused me to shed many of my selfish tendencies and made me a better Amy. It has also helped me to become a better mother to my girls. They need me, no matter how old they are. Selfishness never equals love.

To my ten children in heaven, I’m sorry. I’m so very sorry. I’m so sorry that I let this world deceive me into believing that comfort and pleasure would bring me lasting joy. It was a lie. You deserved a better attitude and response to your life. If you can read my heart you know that I think of you all the time and that I love each and every one of you desperately. Someday we will be united. What a party that will be.

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7 responses to “My Ten Children I’ve Never Met”

  1. Thank you for sharing your journey. I’m so sorry for your losses. I hope you find great joy in this little one!

  2. Amy, thank you for sharing your heartbreaking, beautiful, and very personal story. My favorite sentiment from your post: “Someday we will be united. What a party that will be.” A great reminder for anyone who has had a miscarriage or lost any loved one of any age. <3

    • Thank you so much. I know during my struggles, I felt very alone and I don’t want anyone else to feel that way.

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