Things do not always go the way we plan them. Events happen in our lives that can knock us to the ground so hard it is difficult to rise again. I’ve been knocked down a few times. Losing nine children to miscarriage definitely knocked me flat on my face. During times of immense pain and grief it can be impossible to see any good. But, if we are patient and willing to remove bitterness and despair from our hearts, the good will always be revealed.
After having lost nine children, I started reading a lot on miscarriages. There was a residing theme in everything I read and it was: They were small. You didn’t know them. Miscarriages are natural. Move on.
If this is true, why does my heart ache for them like it does? Through my grief I’ve realized that nobody gets to decide when it is appropriate to grieve over my child or not, except me. They are my children and if I love them at the moment of their conception, then who is to tell me that they aren’t real? Just because I can’t hold them and see their faces doesn’t make them any less real. Though their time in my womb was incredibly brief, those children impacted my heart and soul greatly. True, I didn’t know them in the classic sense of the word. I didn’t know their thoughts, feelings, personalities, or characteristics. But, I knew them as the beautiful babies struggling to live in my womb, fighting for a chance to meet the world one day.
After the loss of eight, our family was blessed with the birth of Jeremiah. I look at his face sometimes and think, “What if we had given up and never tried again?” I can’t even imagine not knowing him. To think that if had I given over to despair, I would have missed out on him. He adds so much joy to our lives. His playful personality and toothless smiles have multiplied the number of smiles and giggles in our home.
If you haven’t read the story about our miscarriages, you can read it here. Though I’ve found some peace, I still continue to struggle with finding the good that will come from my suffering. I know from experience that God always finds a way to transform my pain into a powerful gift of grace, but only if I allow Him. For some time now, I desperately longed to find His graceful gift. Jeremiah is definitely a wonderful gift and he is exceedingly good. But God didn’t transform my anguish into my little boy. The spiritual gift is always a lesson or a personal transformation that encourages growth towards becoming the person God created me to be. Up until a few days ago, the good had not been fully uncovered.
One day, I was laying on the floor, playing with Jeremiah. Honestly, I wasn’t even thinking about the eight children or all the miscarriages whatsoever. As I was playing with him, I stopped for a second and just looked at him in all his chubby goodness rolling around on the floor and tears started to flow from my eyes. And in my soul I heard, “The good from your loss is that you have become a better mother.”
Tear-after-tear shed from my eyes in a flood of relief as I realized the truth of this. I thought back over the past five years. These experiences weeded out a lot of impatience, intolerance, and selfishness. I recognize a change in myself. I didn’t understand its origin at first, but, there, sitting on the floor with my son, I understood. The loss of my nine babies (I had a miscarriage after Jeremiah) stoked a desire in me to be a better mom. I was confronted with the fact that nothing is assured and we should never take anything, most especially, our loved ones for granted. I’m not saying that every woman needs to lose children in order to be a better mom. This is just the workings in my life that God used in my personal development.
As I sat there pondering, I realized that I don’t get frustrated with my children nearly as much. I say, “yes” to them more. I work harder to find ways to connect with them and be by their sides. I listen more closely to them. I treasure their little quirks. My patience with them in homeschooling has grown by leaps-and-bounds. I remind them more often in my words and actions how special they are to me. This is not to say that I am a perfect mother or that I have it all figured out. But, it is to say, that through this suffering, I found a new joy. My relationship with my earthly children is more joyful than ever before.
Through the painful loss of each child, I struggled to believe that any good was possible. I clutched at the slightest thread of hope, though, that He would work something out and kept myself open to whatever He needed to show me. But, there was doubt–lots and lots of doubt. I had to remind myself that He had been faithful before in dark situations where He showed me the light. So, I held on to that thread and I’m so thankful I did. It is so much easier to give up hope. I know this because I’ve turned my back on God in the past. It was easier to be mad and throw my hands in the air and quit. But, hope is an act of faith. When we actively choose to place our hope in His hands and trust that He will see us through the trials of this life we are drawn closer to Him. Through that trust, we grow in our faith even more and are blessed in ways that our human mind can not conceive.
In that moment on the floor with Jeremiah, when all was quiet, He spoke to my soul and revealed what I had been struggling to see. I prayed that He show me the point to these sufferings and I finally got my answer. My nine children in heaven did not die in vain. They created a goodness here on earth that continues to enrich my life and their siblings’ lives. Even though I never met them, they changed my life for the better. My suffering at the loss of these precious souls removed a lot of selfishness and self-centeredness in me and replaced it with love. God transformed my anguish into great comfort and peace.
This is one of the beauties of my Christian faith: Out of great suffering can come great joy. It seems contradictory to say that, but I have found it true in my life. In each of my most devastating life events, I have been blessed with a joy I truly didn’t think possible. I shouldn’t be surprised, though. God took the greatest suffering on Earth-Jesus’ suffering-and turned it into the greatest love story ever. Because of this, we can always find reason to hope.
“Remember that the passion of Christ ends always in the joy of the resurrection of Christ, so when you feel in your own heart the suffering of Christ, remember the resurrection has to come. Never let anything so fill you with sorrow as to make you forget the joy of Christ risen.” –Mother Teresa
