In October of 1988, President Ronald Reagan proclaimed October as National Pregnancy and Infant Loss Awareness Month. Quite honestly I did not know that until this morning when I looked it up. I didn’t even really realize that this month was dedicated to remembering until a few days ago. Then my Facebook feed filled up with remembrances. It seemed a bit familiar like I’d seen this sometime last year and the year before. But I really didn’t pay much attention to it. Sorry, but it’s the truth.
So two weeks ago the stories, the articles, the remembrances started filling my FB feed and I started reading. With each one the tears began to flow. You see I have suffered from infertility for 21 years now. I had a miscarriage, my only known pregnancy in 1996. Two years ago I underwent fertility treatments that were unsuccessful. I know how you feel.
The fertility treatment process was such a blur, so much paperwork, so many needles, so many exams. I was giving myself 3 injections a day for awhile and my husband was giving me the fourth injection of the day. I was on the maximum doses of each drug due to not responding to the lower doses. Talk about hormones!!! I had them in abundance. It wasn’t easy for me or my husband. He was a supportive sweetheart though.
We finally ended up with two little embryos ready for transfer. I received a call each day letting me know of their progress as we awaited transfer. Then one day they called. One of the embryos is doing great. The other not so great so they discarded it. Something died inside. I didn’t know that was an option. I guess it was somewhere in all that paperwork we signed. I was devastated.
We still had one little embryo. It was transferred. Two weeks later I received a call saying your pregnancy test is negative. You are not pregnant. Once again something died inside. I was never the same… until now.
With all the stories, articles, and remembrances. Those dead places began to ache. I decided to talk to someone about it. First she listened and then with God’s leading she began to instruct me on what questions to ask God and let Him give me the answers.
I don’t feel the need to share all of what transpired. But the last question she had me ask brought life, healing, peace and joy again to those dead places inside. Here is the question?
“Ask God where those two embryos are now.”
I began to cry. I heard God’s voice say, “They are with Me.” I then saw a picture in my mind. It was God holding two little lights. I began to weep as I realized that in my mind they had been two little dead embryos. They are alive and not dead.
Because it wasn’t a baby that I carried in my body for weeks or months I didn’t stop to think about them being alive or dead. I didn’t allow myself to grieve as though I had lost a child. But in the absence of thinking about it and processing the grief I allowed a picture of two little dead embryos to take up residence in my mind and my heart.
As soon as I saw those two little lights I felt a great sadness lift. I felt the ache in my heart drain. I felt peace and joy again.
I’m actually a very private person. God and my closest friends know my struggles, but today I felt like I needed to share this because someone else needs to hear this. Someone else needs to replace that image of death and darkness with light and life.
I understand. I am praying for you. You are loved… whoever you are.