[et_pb_section][et_pb_row][et_pb_column type=”4_4″][et_pb_text admin_label=”Text” background_layout=”light” text_orientation=”left” use_border_color=”off” border_color=”#ffffff” border_style=”solid”] This story is more than just a Birth Testimony. It is a testimony of faith in God, even when life is hard. Aubrey blogs over at Parenting the Pipsqueak and we are honored to be able to share her story with you. This is a story of birth, of life, of death, of pain, of sorrow. This is also a story of how God works in and through our hurts. Please note, this may be a trigger for some mamas because Aubrey so beautifully shares about the loss of her second pregnancy and also shares with us a beautiful photo of the sweet baby she delivered at 16 weeks. We hope this blesses you in whatever struggle or trial you are facing.
Aubrey’s Testimony
The last 3 years have been…interesting. Most people would say they’ve been rough, or even crappy. A few would say God was trying to teach me something. Some may even ask why I was being punished. What did I do wrong? What didn’t I do? Why has my life taken the route that it has? My only answer so far is that God never wastes a hurt, and he never misses a teachable moment. In fact, he creates them for that exact purpose. To make me better. I almost didn’t write this post because I don’t feel like I am out of it yet. I don’t feel like I have journeyed through the dark valley and come out on the other side. I don’t feel like he’s done with me. But then I realized that I had to write it, because God has never required us to be at a specific point to be used by Him for good. So here it goes, and regardless of where I am in my faith and life, I hope this reaches you where you are, and speaks to you in that place. Next month my daughter will be three years old. THREE. I’m sure you all understand me when I say “How did that happen!?”. Three years ago was the start of the most transforming season of my life (thus far). The little angry-faced, slippery baby that FINALLY came out of me after 4 days of laboring in 3 different places… 48 hours of natural labor…19 with an epidural… at home, at the birth center, at the hospital… signed papers for a c-section… oxygen, IVs, and finally a little bit of sleep and pain relief… She came out screaming and my life was changed the moment the nurse yelled “It’s a GIRL!”. Life as a new mother was nothing like what I expected. It was harder, I was sleep deprived, and nothing I did could make this little human happy. I struggled to breastfeed and had to supplement with formula (enter MOM GUILT). I learned by trial and error. I think I cried just as much as she did! And yet I still couldn’t imagine not loving her. Not long after my traumatic delivery, I realized that things didn’t seem to be working correctly “down there”. I was paralyzed with fear and depression, so my husband researched my symptoms and some treatments and “cures”. I knew deep down that I would probably need surgery to repair my birth injuries, but I was too afraid to face it at the time. For nearly 2 years, I lived with a very debilitating condition that kept me from doing the things I wanted and needed to do, because I was afraid. Finally the pain and infection was too much, so I went to the doctor to find that I was right- I would need surgery to repair my injuries, and any births following my repair would have to be c-sections. I was devastated. I had already lost the dream of what my first birth was supposed to be- a quiet, calm, dark delivery in the warm waters at the birth center. I had already traded that for a cold, bright hospital room with lots of tubes, monitors, and people. I was slipping into a depression. After my surgery, it took a long time for life to return to “normal”. It was a painful recovery, and I was determined to bulldoze through it, because we were ready for another baby. Every month that passed meant another month that I wouldn’t be holding a baby. On Christmas Eve, I got the positive on my pregnancy test. Almost 3 years to the day that I received my last positive! From the moment that I found out we were pregnant, I had a strange looming feeling that I wouldn’t keep this baby. I pushed it off as being worried and still nervous after all I had been through. I started planning my C-section and trying to enjoy my pregnancy. If you think you know where this is going, you’re right. I told people about my fears, but they helped to ease my thoughts by saying I was worried for no reason and to let myself be excited. Just before 12 weeks, we heard a beautiful little heartbeat. Our daughter was in the room with us, and my eyes filled with tears. I was wrong, I had just been worried. My baby was fine, and we were almost into the second trimester! We made a cute picture announcement and told everyone about our pregnancy. We told the WORLD. I was starting to feel redeemed after the difficulties I had just faced. At 16 weeks, all of my dreams were shattered. The bleeding and cramps were too real, and the ultrasound screen showed a little lifeless body in my womb. A perfect little body I might add- with arms and legs and a big head- but lifeless. How could this be? I was nearing the halfway point in my pregnancy! I was WAY past the “scary” time! Everyone knew! EVERYONE knew. I floated somewhere between disbelief, denial, and hysteria for the next day. In the deep hours of the morning, I delivered that sweet little lifeless body in my bathroom at home, with my husband. We cried, we talked, we held each other, we questioned, and we explored every bit of that little body in those morning hours. We couldn’t take our eyes off of this perfect little baby. Our baby. Our second born child. What did I do to deserve this? Why did God take my baby? And why now? Why did this happen the way that it did? Why couldn’t I just ‘catch a break’, God!?!? He knew how much I wanted this baby. He knew what I had been through. Why was my pain and sorrow not ending? Sometimes the pain of a situation can cloud the truth. Sometimes it can cloud our judgement. Sometimes it renders us feeling as victims of a neglectful and unloving God. This was part of my process. I could easily become calloused and hardened and bitter, and believe me, I have days like this. But I have always believed that God was not done with me, and if I turned away from him now, I would have no hope and nothing to live for. I needed hope. I needed to believe that one day I would be taken to a place where I would no longer feel pain or sorrow. Where I would be reunited with my baby born too soon. Where I could sit at the feet of the one who loved me most, and say “it is good”. My first birth lay in the back of my mind for a long time as a painful and traumatic experience, but if I REALLY look back on it, I can only remember the support my husband gave me. The two times he wept with me as we made difficult decisions. The prayers we whispered and cried. The words he spoke to me. The look in his eyes as I endured the greatest pain and defeat. The excitement when we finally met our baby and knew that it was done, that we did it. Our first birth brought an intimacy that we had never experienced before. And intimacy that took us both by surprise. An intimacy that lead us both to say “yeah, we would do that again to gain this”. Our marriage had changed, and God’s hand was all over it. As the months passed following our birth, we uncovered reasons why our birth was the way it was, and it was revealed once more that God always knows what he is doing, and he is always working for what is best for us. I knew this was the hardest thing I would ever do. And often, what is best for us is not the easiest thing, but the hardest thing. Hard things bring growth, and growth brings intimacy. How beautiful and powerful those days were for our marriage. When it came time for surgery, I again saw another side of my husband that I didn’t know existed. Not only was he patient and caring, but he was embarrassed and queasy about nothing. Believe me, this is not the sexiest surgery you could ever have. Aside from my marriage, the Lord began using this time to work in me. To bring a new song (Psalm 40:3). My faith was challenged. What did I REALLY believe? Who was God to me? Would I stand on his truth in this most trying time? I knew THIS was the hardest thing I would ever do. Isn’t it strange how we think we are doing the hardest thing, until something more difficult comes along? I believe that God gives us these things in waves, because once we have done a hard thing, we know we can do the next hardest thing. On the other side of surgery, I did feel renewed and restored. I knew who I was, and I had found a new intimacy with Christ. Things would be so good now. When we delivered our second baby at home, I was already in a different place. The moment I discovered our baby was no longer living, I wanted it over and done with- I couldn’t stand the thought that a lifeless child was inside of me. I believe God intentionally gave me the 24 hours before birthing the child to soften my heart. This wasn’t something to be rid of, but something to be cherished. This baby was still a part of me and of my husband. It was still an amazing creation from God. When the baby came, my sorrow was deep, but my peace was deeper (John 16:33). God had spoken. I longed to be holding a 6 pound crying baby, but seeing how tiny fingers and toes begin was comforting to my heart. I feel like he gave us a glimpse into the secret place. I ached for things to be different, but the solid truth that there was nothing I could do to change this made my God even bigger to me. At 3am, he was holding us up. We even had some smiles. We don’t get to raise our baby, but I am so thankful for the way this happened and the moments that we had together with our child. This was the hardest thing I will ever do, and yet, now is when my God feels the biggest. It is still not easy. I have not forgotten my trials, but God has also called me to not be a victim. He has so much more for me. I have easy days and hard days. Every month I struggle with the fact that he hasn’t blessed us with another baby yet. Doesn’t he know what I have endured? Don’t I deserve to be redeemed? But other days, he reminds me that I have already been redeemed. He is daily refining me, and many times it is painful. He never promised us an easy life, just a full one (John 10:10). Looking back, I would not trade one of these experiences. Would I hope for a different outcome- YES- but God has never left me, just as he promised (Deuteronomy 31:6). He goes above and below me, before and behind me. He feels my sorrow before I do. Nothing can pass to me that hasn’t been through him first. Many days I forget this. I wallow in my pain and my troubles, forgetting that I have been called to better life. And I cling to the promise that “there is a God in Heaven who reveals mysteries” (Daniel 2:28). I am being taught contentment. Being content in the life that he has allowed me and the child that he has given me. Maybe there will be more, maybe there won’t. I want to get to a place where I can say “If we are thrown into the blazing furnace, the God we serve is able to deliver us from it, and he will deliver us from Your Majesty’s hand. But even if he does not, we want you to know, Your Majesty, that we will not serve your gods or worship the image of gold you have set up” (Daniel 3:17-18). Even if he doesn’t. That is my prayer. When I thought God was most absent, it was then that he was most present in my life. Lord, do not let me forget this. I have promised to follow you through the good and the bad, but I may need you to hold me up. Do not leave me, stay close. Whisper truths in my ear. Hold my heart when it feels like it may shatter. Be everything that I cannot. And please, kiss my sweet baby for me. 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