I've been thinking lately about how the unanticipated or unwanted loss of unborn children reaffirms the value of life and the dignity of life at all stages. You may be wondering how exactly death reaffirms life. It's easy to see how the value of life is affirmed in the birth of babies, in glowing women expecting a child any day, in families enjoying life together... it's harder to see in loss.
But I can't help but think of how God uses a trial as difficult as losing a baby to show others the importance of life as well. I went to a couple support groups after losing Angelica and it really struck me how many people mourned their children as if they were just that- their children! Real babies and real lives waiting to enter the world - children awaiting a loving family and a life of hope. What a testament to life to talk of our unborn children and recognize their true existence and our true parenthood, even before seeing their beautiful faces or holding them in our arms. And I began to wonder- would our conversation seem foreign to "pro-choice" parents? Would they understand our grief? If so, does it seem strange to them that what was a very real "life" to us could be seen as a "non-life" to someone else?
Is it possible to come to terms with the idea that two babies of exactly the same age can have inherent dignity and value or not have that depending on their parent? I can think of examples of times when the value of human lives was left up for debate depending on who the players were (colonists and Native Americans, Nazis and the Jewish, the Hutus and the Tutsis). Somehow, though, it seems that we generally tend to look back on these times in history with shame and guilt, recognizing the utter lies perpetuating our ability to dehumanize people based on race or religion or language.
To many, wishing Juan Carlos a happy father's day or bringing Angelica into conversations may seem like a crazy, unnecessary reminder of one of the most painful experiences of our lives (not to mention uncomfortable for anyone else in the room at the time). But, to me, recognizing our parenthood and Angelica's life is a way of affirming the fact that we believe life begins from conception. If Angelica was not even a real "life" yet, than we wouldn't have much to cry about... but we do. I don't go around work posting flyers or proclaiming the fact we lost our child since it is not my intention to bring attention upon myself, but I am trying to catch myself when I say "I wish I could be a mother" or "I may never have a baby" because based on what I believe, I am a mother and I do have a baby- she's just not with me here.
Calling myself a mother may be controversial to some, since I have not put in the sacrifice of staying up long hours and changing dirty diapers and disciplining and teaching and balancing "family life" with other obligations, but I would only consider my sacrifice different- not necessarily less. There are many reasons I would rather have sleepless nights and dirty diapers in exchange for having my baby with me, but for reasons beyond my understanding right now, my sacrifice, my cross, was giving my precious child up completely.
Facing challenges to conceive again can also reffirm the pro-life movement, since so many people and couples are waiting with open arms to welcome a child into their home. I am one of them- I would more than happily adopt a baby without a second thought to the fact the child didn't come from our own genetic line. Yet, so many women who feel "unready" for one reason or another to give birth choose abortion instead, leaving longing couples empty handed and healthy children lifeless. It is truly tragic. I know the thought of having a child you give birth to out in the world and not knowing what becomes of him or her is uncomfortable, maybe even painful at times. It must be incredibly difficult to give a child up for adoption. But isn't it worth it to know there is a life in the world that wouldn't be there otherwise? And there are parents that may not be parents otherwise? True love is hard, but it is so so beautiful.
Since I was a little girl, I have always been an advocate for life and recent experiences have only strengthened my convictions. I think language goes a long way to shape our feelings and beliefs about people and so, if you believe as I do, that life begins from conception, I would encourage you also to examine your own language and see if it reflects that belief. How do you refer to the unborn or to children lost from the womb, whether they're your own or someone else's? How does your reaction to death reaffirm the value of one's life, however small? We have such an opportunity to use the sad and difficult experiences in our lives, as well as the joyful ones, to bring honor and respect to that which is truly important.
Monday, June 22, 2009
Wednesday, June 17, 2009
When God speaks
I think it's clear from my posts in recent weeks and months that I am struggling with patience and struggling with waiting. It's almost harder for me to wait to know the end than to know it's the worst case scenario and begin the process of acceptance- how I sympathize with families that have loved ones "missing" or are waiting on test results or waiting for anything. You want to hold onto hope and be optimistic and yet, you also don't want to give yourself false hope and set yourself up for disappointment.
Is faith believing it will go your way? Is faith believing whatever happens will be God's will? Is faith believing that whatever happens, God will be there and somehow, even in the worst of circumstances, you'll find peace?
I've been reading a book called "The Shack"- a man takes his kids camping and while saving the life of one child, leaves his daughter unattended for a couple minutes, during which time she is kidnapped and killed. Two years later, he receives a note from God and gets to meet and talk to God "face to face" God, of course, must take "human" form to interact with the main character and the core messages of the story unfold.
The book has made me think a bit about talking to God and listening to God and looking for God. Sometimes I wish God would speak louder, give some encouragement, help me know what the heck I'm supposed to be getting out of all these medical scares, all this waiting? Why does it have to be so difficult, take so long? We were all geared up to have a baby in March and now, two months later, when we should be sleep-deprived, never wanting to see another dirty diaper, and overwhelmed with love and gratitude, we are still waiting. I feel like we're stuck in a traffic jam, two hours late and instead of eventually starting to move, day after day passes and we are in a standstill, not sure how far away our final destination even is. We can't get out and walk- we're locked in, stuck, longing, desperate... It is by far the most difficult thing I have ever had to face in terms of a frustrating, ongoing, hopeless kind of process. Losing Angelica was incredibly hard and the pain will never fully go away, but at least we knew what we had to accept and with that acceptance, ultimately, came peace. Here, in this place, I just want an answer.
Then, today, I read this on a link from Cheri's blog entitled: "The boy who saved us"
The entry started with details of how much the couple is enjoying their new baby and my heart and head filled with envy, judgement and selfish desire that I, too, could know what it's like and how they would never understand how incredibly sad it is for the baby you pray for to never arrive. Under an embedded movie clip of their son, I read:
Rebecca and I look back at the now seemingly short 5 years of infertility that began our marriage; the days of waiting and longing for a life to share our life with, of the periods when literally everyone we knew was pregnant, or holding a little one in their arms. Our days of seeking help, of discovering adoption at the embryonic level, of Snowflakes, of more sorrows, of miscarriages and then moments with our little Gracie, so sweet and so sad and so short-lived. We were in the Barren Desert, again and again. We were trying hard not to grasp at children as if they were a right. We still hold fast to the truth that all life is a gift, and the timing is in God's time.
That time is now! Now this most unexpected gift of our son has come! And the years dissipate like thin wisps of mourning mist. And the years of "just us" (which in itself was so full and so rich) has only served to heighten our senses and sensitivities to this Small Wonder of a Boy. Every smile, every giggle, every tear, every thing is a grace. So God surely knows and knew what He was doing. We just had to wait it out, and will again in some new form down the road, I'm sure. I just hope we remember the simple truth that "good things come to those who wait."
And that, my friends, is the understatement of the year!
Sometimes God whispers, sometimes God sends notes, and sometimes God shows you truth through other people. I felt that God spoke to me today, through this story...
Lord, help me to trust You again. I've trusted before and felt betrayed. I worry that Your will, Your way, Your time will force me to go through more pain, that I just don't feel I have the strength to face anymore. Please renew my faith that You want the best for me and for all Your children- that You are capable and willing to intervene on our behalf- that You really do carry us during the most difficult times in our lives, times of facing difficult truths, and times of waiting. Help me to believe in myself too- Help me to truly believe you created me with the capacity to be a much stronger, more resilient woman than I feel I can be lately.
Good Saint Anne, Mother Mary, and my precious Baby Angelica- pray for me.
Is faith believing it will go your way? Is faith believing whatever happens will be God's will? Is faith believing that whatever happens, God will be there and somehow, even in the worst of circumstances, you'll find peace?
I've been reading a book called "The Shack"- a man takes his kids camping and while saving the life of one child, leaves his daughter unattended for a couple minutes, during which time she is kidnapped and killed. Two years later, he receives a note from God and gets to meet and talk to God "face to face" God, of course, must take "human" form to interact with the main character and the core messages of the story unfold.
The book has made me think a bit about talking to God and listening to God and looking for God. Sometimes I wish God would speak louder, give some encouragement, help me know what the heck I'm supposed to be getting out of all these medical scares, all this waiting? Why does it have to be so difficult, take so long? We were all geared up to have a baby in March and now, two months later, when we should be sleep-deprived, never wanting to see another dirty diaper, and overwhelmed with love and gratitude, we are still waiting. I feel like we're stuck in a traffic jam, two hours late and instead of eventually starting to move, day after day passes and we are in a standstill, not sure how far away our final destination even is. We can't get out and walk- we're locked in, stuck, longing, desperate... It is by far the most difficult thing I have ever had to face in terms of a frustrating, ongoing, hopeless kind of process. Losing Angelica was incredibly hard and the pain will never fully go away, but at least we knew what we had to accept and with that acceptance, ultimately, came peace. Here, in this place, I just want an answer.
Then, today, I read this on a link from Cheri's blog entitled: "The boy who saved us"
The entry started with details of how much the couple is enjoying their new baby and my heart and head filled with envy, judgement and selfish desire that I, too, could know what it's like and how they would never understand how incredibly sad it is for the baby you pray for to never arrive. Under an embedded movie clip of their son, I read:
Rebecca and I look back at the now seemingly short 5 years of infertility that began our marriage; the days of waiting and longing for a life to share our life with, of the periods when literally everyone we knew was pregnant, or holding a little one in their arms. Our days of seeking help, of discovering adoption at the embryonic level, of Snowflakes, of more sorrows, of miscarriages and then moments with our little Gracie, so sweet and so sad and so short-lived. We were in the Barren Desert, again and again. We were trying hard not to grasp at children as if they were a right. We still hold fast to the truth that all life is a gift, and the timing is in God's time.
That time is now! Now this most unexpected gift of our son has come! And the years dissipate like thin wisps of mourning mist. And the years of "just us" (which in itself was so full and so rich) has only served to heighten our senses and sensitivities to this Small Wonder of a Boy. Every smile, every giggle, every tear, every thing is a grace. So God surely knows and knew what He was doing. We just had to wait it out, and will again in some new form down the road, I'm sure. I just hope we remember the simple truth that "good things come to those who wait."
And that, my friends, is the understatement of the year!
Sometimes God whispers, sometimes God sends notes, and sometimes God shows you truth through other people. I felt that God spoke to me today, through this story...
Lord, help me to trust You again. I've trusted before and felt betrayed. I worry that Your will, Your way, Your time will force me to go through more pain, that I just don't feel I have the strength to face anymore. Please renew my faith that You want the best for me and for all Your children- that You are capable and willing to intervene on our behalf- that You really do carry us during the most difficult times in our lives, times of facing difficult truths, and times of waiting. Help me to believe in myself too- Help me to truly believe you created me with the capacity to be a much stronger, more resilient woman than I feel I can be lately.
Good Saint Anne, Mother Mary, and my precious Baby Angelica- pray for me.
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