I stared at the object in hand, seeing proof of what I already knew to be true.
The symptoms were prominent—intense smells and fatigue—but until then I was too afraid to face a pregnancy test.
After losing our first baby to miscarriage, those two pink lines brought a different set of feelings with them. A little excitement, mostly fear, along with shame. I was scared to hope—to dream of a life with this baby. Shame filled my heart over the longing I felt for our first child and my detachment of the new one which had taken root in my womb.
It was Pregnancy and Infant Loss Remembrance Day. As many moms lit candles to honor their littles, I sat anxiously next to my excited husband, fearful of the future. With the due date being so close to the anniversary of the death of our first, my mind pondered, "Surely this is a sign. Maybe this is my rainbow baby." I felt my heart try to wrap its weak arms around this dream. I wanted it to come true so badly.
"There's blood!" I agonized to my husband, rushing out of the bathroom. Dropping what he was doing, he ran to me as my body, weakened by shock, slid down the wall. I brought my knees in close as if to protect my heart from the pain. My husband sat next to me in the hallway, comforting me as I wept. It was all too familiar. Only months before, he held me in this very spot as I labored our first baby. A few days later, on my husband's birthday, the unbearable cramps began and we lost our second unborn child.
On the following Father's Day, I faced one of my greatest fears as our third child was born into heaven as well.
I am a woman who knows what it is to feel life flourish and perish from within. I know what it's like to feel my baby slipping away and to wet my floor with tears powerless to make it stop. I've felt the pain of begging God to save my babies, and witnessing his "no." And with each loss, my desire for a child intensifies.
Recently, after the first of two baby showers in one week, this verse from Psalm 145 came through my speakers from one of my favorite songs:
You open your hand; you satisfy the desire of every living thing. Psalm 145:16
As women walking through infertility and miscarriage, a verse like this can be challenging. We stand before our Lord with a desire that honors him and yet our arms remain empty and our hearts continue to ache. I've wondered why a kind God would withhold such a good gift.
But this passage is less about God giving us all of our desires and more about God giving us the greatest treasure he could give: himself. Only Jesus can satisfy our desires, not a baby. Maybe our Lord has given us this longing so we would draw near to him. Truly, to be closer to the Lord is a gift which far exceeds the worth of anything this world offers—even a child.
When we feel our longing in the deepest part of our soul—when it sharply grieves us—when our first response is How long, O Lord? let it take us to the God who satisfies all desires with himself. Let the pain draw us near to the feet of Jesus. It's there where we find all we need.
What a hard path we've been called to, friends. I pray we wouldn't waste it. I pray we'd allow it to cause our hearts to treasure Jesus above all things, even more than a baby. But know that he sees our suffering and he bears our grief. We don't walk this difficult road alone. Look to Jesus; in him, you will find all you lack.
For he satisfies the longing soul, and the hungry soul he fills with good things. Psalm 107:9
Brittany is a follower of Christ, wife to James, and momma to three in Heaven. She exists to bring God glory and prays her writing is an avenue for that. She longs to help other women see Jesus as their ultimate treasure. Find her writing at https://brittleeallen.com.