miscarriage, fear and a kitten

As we’ve settled into our own little place after being mobile for two years, our mutual desire to expand our family has grown. We prayed, talked through fears, and chose to trust God, despite how much is unknown and outside of our control when it comes to having children. We were so grateful when our hope was realized after only about a month or two of trying, knowing getting pregnant doesn’t always come easily to every couple, and we rejoiced in new life.

Then the fear crept in. Past experience, part of our story, began to rewrite itself into our present narrative. You see, two and a half years ago, during a dark season of depression after burning out and getting sick in the last semester of college, I had a pregnancy end in miscarriage. An unusual kind where an abnormal mass of tissue grew in my uterus instead of a fetus, what is called a Molar Pregnancy. So you can understand our shock when we discovered that were not in fact expecting a baby, but surgery to remove the tissue. Jesus met us so sweetly through that time, showing us with determined certainty that He was in fact in control and that life was in fact in His loving hands. We sat down along Lake Estes (we were living in Estes Park at that time as well) and ‘the peace that surpasses understanding’ met us there, the sun peaked through the darkness that had all but consumed the past season of our life. He brought love and hope and comfort through what was a painful and confusing experience.

So when we discovered that we were pregnant this past summer, though we were thrilled, there was also the fear. The hesitancy the fear brought to our hopes held us back from fully embracing the joy that we so wanted to feel. The fear that I could believe something was a reality when it was in fact, not. The fear that we could get our hopes up and have them come crashing down prevented me in particular from feeling much at all. I didn’t want to feel too excited because whenever I went there the fear was there too and I didn’t want to face it, didn’t want to feel it. I was holding my breath for our first opportunity to see a beating heart. And when it didn’t go well, and they said to come back in a few weeks, we tried not to give up hope, tried not to expect the worse, though we had not really embraced hoping for the best. I wanted hard cold facts- heart-beat-on-ultra-sound-proof before I could fully embrace the hope.

After sharing our news with a close few and before we had seen that little heart beating, I started bleeding slightly. We weren’t sure what it meant and were reassured by the doctor that all I could do was wait. If I was miscarrying there was nothing I could do to make it worse or better. All I could do was wait it out.

Jesus’ timing is always good, perfect in fact, and three of my best friends were visiting at the time. Their encouragement and support through those first few days was exactly what I needed, and when it came time for them to leave, the promise of their prayers carried me through the rest of the week, as things got worse. When the cramping started, I asked the Father to please spare this little life, while wanting to be fully surrendered to His will. And as we continued to choose to trust His loving hands, things got worse, and I finally fully miscarried. On that August day, late in the afternoon, we found ourselves back along the lake in Estes.

Chris pointed out a swan nearby and I didn’t think much of it. We sat and talked for a while when I noticed that the white bird was actually a stork, not a swan, still thinking nothing of it. Chris prayed and as he finished the stork flew straight above us and along the shore and across the lake, and as it did, my heart was suddenly struck by it. I yelled to Chris, “Look it’s a stork, storks bring babies! It’s a sign!” In that moment, as silly as it sounds, I felt like God was saying not to worry, that He would bring us a baby in His time. And we felt comfort and peace in a way I could not explain outside of the prayers of others during that time. The following day, as the grief came over me, I decided I didn’t want to wait a few more days to get a kitten for my birthday as we had planned but left early that afternoon to find a sweet little orange one. I spent the next few weeks at home crying and chasing the kitten around our little apartment. He was skittish and afraid and not as snuggly as I was hoping he would be. As much as I had hoped that snuggling a kitten would have been the comfort I needed in those weeks, the Lord used our little kitten in a very different way.

My frustration would build as I chased the kitty around, climbing under chairs after him, and pulling him out from behind furniture, so much so that when I had finally caught him I’d hold him close and say ‘What are you so afraid of? Why are you scared of me? I just want to hold you and pet you and be sweet to you! Why are you resisting me?! I love you kitty, I feed you and scoop your poop (well Chris scoops your poop) and have made this safe little home for you… what do you have to fear?!”

And as I had these silly conversations with my cat, I felt the Lord catch my heart and say kindly:
“My child, what are you so afraid of? What do you really have to fear? I love you, I am with you, I will be enough for you, no matter what circumstances you go through. You have nothing to fear.”
And I was starting to see, starting to see how silly my fear is and the power of His love.

You see I was so nervous in those early weeks, before we knew if everything was going to be all right. I was afraid of losing this baby, this life I so wanted. I was afraid all our hopes and plans would be wasted energy. I was afraid I would never get to meet this new person that had come into existence. I was full of fear.

And as I grieved, He gently confronted my fears through my conversations with a scared little kitty.

He comforted me with His love and showed me how trustworthy He had been. No, he had not prevented the loss and the pain, but He had been enough throughout the loss and the pain. He had been our comfort; His peace had held us steady. His love gave us faith. Though we were sad and grieving, we could not despair, because of His love for us. Even though it had been the most physically painful experience I have ever been through, somehow Jesus’ love was there and it held us together through the pain. We felt so helpless, all we could do was surrender to His will, and trust in His love.

And I wondered. Is it possible that the Lord, in His grace, sometimes allows the thing that we fear the most to happen in our lives, in order to heal us from that fear. That the only way we can stop fearing something, is if we are able to experience the presence and sufficiency of our Savior through that very thing.

Surely this is not the only way God heals us of our fear. Surely not. I’m sure He spares us of far more pain than we will ever realize. But He is surely using this now, in my life, to heal me of my fear. And He surely used the greatest loss of all, the life of His only son, to heal us all.

As I write, our slightly bigger orange cat sleeps close to me on the couch.
He is growing and changing and trusting more and more.
He is still a little fearful, but less and less each day.
And so am I.