This post is extremely raw and carries with it a revealing honesty about myself. It is with great pain, sorrow and shame that events in our lives will come to light. Please understand that there is an intense vulnerability that comes with being completely transparent. That being said, this is the reason why God laid this blog on my heart, this is merely a step in His healing process.
Waking up on a Saturday morning is usually blissful. You have stayed up a little later, slept in a little longer and get to eat a big breakfast with your loved ones. This Saturday would be different. On this Saturday morning, Aaron and I would be riding to the hospital where I would have a D&C and say goodbye to our deceased, unborn child.
This sort of thing was not supposed to happen to me. I was young, healthy and did everything right for the baby. I was hydrated, well rested and ate exactly what I was supposed to. No one in my family had experienced anything like this and I only knew one other person who had. It was unexpected. It was traumatic. It was awful.
I did not understand the age-old question of why?
I turned and looked at God and screamed, "How could you let this happen to us?!" My husband did not experience the same grief that I did. There is something about the instantaneous bond between a mother and her child, from the moment those pink lines show up and the nausea sets in. But with men, that bond has to grow. Aaron did not share the intense loss and I resented him for it.
I fell into a pit. I literally felt like I was coming apart. It was as if my life as I knew it ceased to exist. I ran from Aaron. I ran from God. How could I trust a God that could let something like this happen? How could I trust Him to lead me, and me to follow.
I retreated into myself. I decided I knew what was best. I knew how to run my life, better. I knew what to do to keep from experiencing that same pain again.
I lost contact with family and stopped going to get-togethers. I started going out with new friends. We went to clubs and bars and I started drinking; not in excess, but just enough to get me away from what I did not want to feel. I sought attention from other men, and got it. I ran from my life at home, I ran from my husband who did not understand my pain and ran from my responsibilities as a mother.
I lived in a blur. Working at night, sleeping all day, going out on my off nights, sleeping all day on my off days. I did not need anyone anymore. I did not need anything. I was all I needed and I could handle anything and I was in control.
Except I definitely was not.
The problems Aaron and I had before the pregnancy only intensified when we lost the baby. Every negative feeling toward each other, every bitter seed, every issue swept under the rug reared it's ugly head within me. We were two ships passing long enough to mutter a few words to each other.
Instead of getting on my knees, I found solace in strangers. Instead of falling, broken in front of my husband, my family and closest friends, I fell into secrecy and searched for gratification outside our marriage. To be honest, the months after the miscarriage are a haze.
I will never play the victim. I am not a martyr blaming my selfish choices on an ill-timed loss. That merely served as the catalyst my life needed to spin out of control. The harder I tried to numb the pain- the pain of losing a child, the pain of not feeling loved, the pain of feeling lost to God, the pain of feeling my marriage slip away- the more I did not recognize the life I was trying so hard to control.
It was not until May 18, 2012, sitting in a church watching two people recite their wedding vows in front of family, friends and God, that the weight of all of my terrible choices came down. It literally hit me like a truck. It was all I could do to make it through the ceremony. I wanted to run. I wanted to scream. I felt like I was suffocating, choking on everything I had done. My husband, the best man, in his incredibly attractive tuxedo, stood before me ignorantly blissful to a side of my life no one knew about.
So, it was after the wedding, after the reception, standing in our bathroom that I could contain it no longer. Everything came spilling out of me. I literally vomited a truth he was not at all prepared for.
Aaron, staring at me in disbelief, not knowing what to say, what to do or how to react. I saw the reality of my words settle into his face like I had ripped out his heart.
The next few hours were hell. We were supposed to be going to the wedding "after party" and at 5 am the next morning we were ALL, the whole wedding party and the bride's family, boarding a plane to leave on a week-long cruise.
Great timing, Krista.
We attempted to go to the party but Aaron asked me to leave, which I did not blame him. I wanted to crawl in a hole and bury myself. I was responsible for this pain. I had caused this.
After hours of back and forth, we decided to still go. A week of being trapped on a boat. A week of no choice but to be together. We had no idea what we were in for.
to be continued....
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