Closing the door on baby no.4

I saw a photo today. A photo of my cousin, head back in laughter as she gazed at her gorgeous baby boy. I smiled and then winced as the pain hit my heart. I miss my baby.

I'm not over it. I thought a lot of the pain would have diminished by now but the ache is still there and there is a fresh wave of pain now that we've hit the one year mark and are still no closer to getting pregnant again. I feel like an idiot in lots of ways - why am I still grieving this? - but then I remember: I lost a child. You're not supposed to just be okay with that.

I'm in a new stage of the grieving process. For a year now I've eagerly awaited every month hoping that this would be the one, but as each month passes with no sign of those two little lines, I find myself thinking, "What if never? What then?". Not everyone gets their rainbow. Not everyone gets the joy of the long awaited miracle after a season of pain, and whilst the game is not over, it's certainly feeling that way for us. 

The questions have started coming in now, "are you still trying?", "why is it not happening?", "do you still want another?", each one as painful as the one before as I cry through explanations and reasonings and heartache. And then this week we made the call. We're not going to try anymore. 

There are things shifting in our life, things we want to do that we've been putting off, and we're finally laying this down and choosing to move forward now. A part of me glistens in hope that somehow, one day, I'll find myself accidentally pregnant, but the reality is it's not going to happen, and that hurts like hell. 

I'm not content with it. Of course I'm not. I grieve, and I cry, and I weep. This season has been one of learning to lament - to cry it all out in front of God and feel His comfort in each and every moment.  

In so many ways I am thankful. I am more gracious, more understanding, better equipped to walk with those aching with desire for something lost. When I  miscarried a year ago I knew, with all my heart, that we would fall pregnant again, and yet here we are. The reality is we just don't know what life holds, and sometimes the hope that we hold doesn't come to fruition.

There is hope though. Hope for something new. Hope for something different. Hope for something just as beautiful but shaped not quite the same. The things we have learnt through this season have already been testament to that and I know that our story and experience will be carried into situations in our future that'll turn out to feel guided by the hand of God - nothing is wasted and He turns it all to good. 

So here we are, almost stepping foot into 2021, choosing to leave it behind and put it down. I am a bundle of nerves and excitement for the next season of our family, and if by some miracle God chooses to work through contraception (and I've heard it done!) then I will dance with joy and thank Him for His many blessings, but for now we're thanking Him for the doors He has closed and the new ones He has opened. 

It's not over yet. 

Until next time...

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