A Different Reality

So much can happen in a year's time.  Yesterday, exactly one year after miscarrying the baby we named Ande, I was at the doctor again, this time for my six-week postpartum check-up.  It's hard to believe it has already been a year since that emotionally and physically painful night when we lost the baby we never knew, and yet it seems so much longer.  And it's hard to believe that our twins who were conceived only a couple months later are now almost seven weeks old.

A year ago--even seven weeks ago--I never imagined that Travis and I might be done having children at the ages of 25 and 26.  I knew we wouldn't be done by choice, but I didn't think we'd be done by necessity, either.

But on May 28th, when my obstetrician opened me up to deliver my babies via repeat cesarean section, we were all shocked by what he found.  Not only had my old uterine scar completely separated, but there was also virtually nothing left to the bottom of my uterus, the lining of which had thinned to the likeness of cellophane.  As a result, my obstetrician expressly stated that my uterine scar should never be tested again (i.e. I should never have another pregnancy).

Overwhelmed by the knowledge that God had just spared my babies' lives and mine and by the doctor's opinion that I need to be done having children, I wasn't able to start trying to process what all of this means for the future until just a few days ago.  When Travis and I got married, we decided that instead of using birth control, we would let God be in control.  We placed our trust in Him to open and close my womb in His time and vowed to accept as a blessing whatever He gave us.  (Thank You, God, that four years later we have four beautiful children here with us and one in heaven with You!)  But now that the circumstances have changed, we are faced with a decision that to me feels at times like a revocation of that trust which we placed in Him.  For, if we are to heed my doctor's advice to not get pregnant again, some means of birth control becomes necessary.

Even after discussing with the doctor at length yesterday the facts of what happened to my uterus and the possibly fatal consequences of getting pregnant again, I think I'm having a hard time fully accepting it all.  Maybe it just doesn't seem real to me.  Or maybe I don't want it to be real because it's not the reality I had envisioned.  It's not that I'm unhappy with having four children (I'm not) or even that there was some certain number of children that I wanted to have (there wasn't).  I just truly wanted as many children as the Lord desired to give me, and I suppose I had assumed that number would be realized over a longer span of years.

So now we have come to this point where we must reconcile trusting God with heeding wisdom and where I must accept that God's plan might look differently than what I thought it would.  I pray that God will guide us in the decisions that must be made, and I thank Him for the children He has given us.  What precious gifts they are....