A Beacon of Hope

After typing most of this up a few days ago, I set it aside. Unsure of whether or not to post... My hope is that it's helpful for others, but with sensitive memories the retelling always feels incomplete. What if it gets misinterpreted? What if I forget a critical detail? But then I remember, the message will resonate with those that need it most. And that’s really what matters. So, if you’re reading this, I guess I decided that it was worth sharing ____________ Jan 30, 2016 [The night before an ultrasound and subsequent miscarriage.] I was crying in bed. Although not yet confirmed, I anticipated the days ahead and the emotional and physical pain were setting in. Isla laid down next to me bringing with her blanket and stuffed elephant. She gently stroked my face and hair and snuggled up. Such a warm, loving presence. At one point Isla put her ear to my belly and said, “She doesn’t want to die. She loves you too.” [even though we didn’t know gender yet] Then she added, “There will be another baby.” In that moment, it was hard to see beyond the pain. Those same words coming from an adult might not have sat well, but coming from a 4-year-old, they were a little glimmer of hope that helped sooth.

As it turns out, she was right. Tommy came along less than a year later.

When I was pregnant with him, I had a lot of anxiety about miscarrying again. Around 10 weeks I was especially worried because my morning sickness started to subside. It might sound weird but the early nausea had been comforting. A reminder that things were different inside me… life was growing. One morning I called my mom to talk through some of my concerns. Isla overheard what was being said. She quickly ran over to her doctor kit, found the stethoscope, put it to my belly, looked up and said, “I can hear the heartbeat, mom!” Not a hesitation or doubt in her voice. It was the assurance I needed to make it a couple more weeks before seeing the midwife.

All that plus A LOT of prayer.

There were similar instances during this time period, but I wanted to share these two memories because many of us are going through some unexpected times right now. Things aren’t going “as planned,” or maybe we’ve stopped planning all together. Anxiety and grief might be rolling in. At least that’s how I felt a few weeks ago: Mentally stuck in the mud and struggling to find traction. I am feeling much better now and one of the things that helped was reflecting on past challenges and recalling the healing process.

I am reminded that it’s especially helpful to talk through your feelings with someone (a loved one or a professional). One phone call goes a long way.

Allow yourself to fully grieve losses, but still have hope, faith, and a vision for the future. We can make it through hardship. We’ve done it before.

Lead with prayer and lean on others for support. Friends and family want to help. They do. I’m not sure if Isla is especially intuitive or if she’s just a great visionary. Her steadfastness was a beacon for me.

There will indeed be joy, awe, and laughter down the road (and actually sprinkled in along the way!) These golden moments are always there if we keep an eye out for them.

Continue to speak your heart, seek answers, and trust your instincts. And know that you are never EVER alone. Maybe physically bound, but, in spirit, your support structure is limitless.

Thinking of you all and sending big, warm hugs! PLEASE reach out if you want to chat.

______________ P.S. I should note that I often write as a reminder to my future self, too… even to read an hour, day, or years in the future. Writing is also a helpful healing tool