Very Personal Story of Loss

215.2! Now we're cooking with oil! (Olive oil, that is!)

As I was exercising on the eliptical at the Y this morning, I heard a song by my utmost favorite Christian artist Bebo Norman. The song is called "The Way We Mend," and it's not his best... nor do I like it because it has the name of my ministry in it... but I happened to hear it on my MP3 player. Some of the words go:

But sometimes my shadows surround me
And you take me in your arms and say
It’s the way we mend
We tear it all down and we’ll start it again
And I don’t know how but you find me where we begin
And that’s just the way, the way that we mend

As a therapist, I get it. Sometimes we have to revisit issues in our lives that hurt us in order to move past them... move past them for now. Healing isn't a one-time event. This is why in M.E.N.D., the ministry I run in Tulsa for people who have lost babies, we always talk about commemorating our babies, doing something on anniversary dates or holidays to recognize them. In essence, we revisit our pain.

How does this pertain to dieting? It certainly pertains to emotional eating, that's for sure. Preparing to have another baby for me is scary. I've had a lot of life experience, much of yet I haven't even touched on in this blog, but some of the most significant pain was when I had my miscarriages. The first d&c didn't go so well, and I still ended up having to miscarry at home for WEEKS after the d&c. It was physically painful. Then one morning I woke up and decided I was sick and tired of being strong, and I just broke down. My doctor was giving me so much information about my body that I didn't understand, and all I could think of was this baby just didn't want to leave me. I had a second miscarriage several months later. I was then convinced that something was so wrong with my body, confirming what I had thought my whole life... that something's wrong with me. Most women who lose a child feel shame. They wonder if they did something wrong, if they had done something differently would that baby have lived, if they hadn't eaten that piece of pizza or exercised too hard or taken an OTC pain reliever or thought poorly towards another person or.... I had all this on my shoulders. On top of it all, I felt like nobody understood. I was so lonely.

Third time was a charm but oh so scary and full of drama. Some of my heartbreak came when I found out my niece was pregnant. My niece... I love her despite the fact that she works hard at giving us all reason not to. I had always assumed I'd be the next one to bring a baby into the family. It had been 10 years since the last grandchild was born. Never did I think that my niece would beat me to it. On top of it, she was having a boy. My mom had 3 daughters and 4 granddaughters. I was supposed to be bringing a boy into the family who would be doted on and get all the attention. Now, he'd have to share it with his cousin's son. Twenty months later, I must say that my niece's son is such a blessing, but at the time, it all felt so tragic.

During the whole pregnancy, I counseled women whose babies had died. I never relaxed. Then I went to one of those places that does 4D ultrasounds. It is supposed to be for fun, so they can't tell you if they notice anything wrong with the baby. I saw Gabe's cord around his neck. Having WAY too much faith in the gal doing the ultrasound, who was also a doula, I listened to her explain that babies will often play with their umbilical cords and that it just looked like it was around his neck because he was holding it up to his face. I relaxed... told her about my ministry and how that might make me a little more nervous than their average customer. She called me at home the next morning. She explained that a fellow doula's customer had lost her baby a day after it was due to be born and requested some brochures about M.E.N.D. She then said she'd be praying for my baby. Now, she hadn't struck me as a very spiritual person. Combined with the way she said it, I was unsettled. I talked myself out of my panic, knowing that I was way too nervous.

Seems like my whole church was praying for me, Doug, and Gabe during my pregnancy. I had shared about my miscarriages with several people as I sought out support. Little did I know how much I would need their prayers.

Doug got laid off from his job of 8 years just 2 weeks before Gabe was born. Two days later, I was put in the hospital for high blood pressure and to be tested for preclampsia. What a time. When it rains, it pours. I did have mild preclampsia, but we were able to manage it with rest. I wanted a vaginal childbirth so bad. I would prove that I was a real woman. But, in talking with the doctor about my issues that caused the first d&c to go badly, combined with the preclampsia, she encouraged us to go with a c-section.

I don't know if my ob/gyn is a Christian. As a matter of fact, I sorta think she's not. I've spoken openly about my faith with her. She listens but shares nothing of hers. It was so important to me to reflect the Lord to her. So, on the day of Gabe's birth, he was born with the cord wrapped around his neck not once, but twice, AND a true knot in his cord. You don't even want to know how many people I've talked with who have lost babies due to cord accidents and knots. Had I not made the decision to have a c-section, Gabe likely would not have survived labor. Out loud, before my doctor, nurses, and anyone who could hear, I cried and praised the Lord when my ob had given me the news about his cord and that he was just fine. I know my doctor had to wonder about my God that day.

It doesn't make sense, does it? How a girl who God protected so much could be scared to get pregnant again? When will I get it... be the woman of faith I long to be?

To top it all off, toward the end of my pregnancy I received a call from a girl in pain. She had lost her baby just one day after it was due to be born. She came to a M.E.N.D. meeting and told me how a doula had been scheduled to deliver her beautiful boy Samuel. Yes, it was the girl that the ultrasound tech had called me about. And, no, she hadn't received any M.E.N.D. brochure from any doula. She found M.E.N.D. another way. God wanted her to find M.E.N.D.