It is done. This pregnancy is over.
While of course I am sad and disappointed, I feel...peaceful? hopeful?
I am grateful for the way that it happened as it helped to confirm some things for me- leaving no question. I am not crazy. (Well, not always.) I was most definitely pregnant. You always kind of wonder when you opt not to have labs and early ultrasounds. Also, what I experienced when we were at BYU and I got such horrible OB care was, I am almost positive, also a miscarriage. That experience was devastating for me and because I never took a pregnancy test prior to bleeding I was never really sure. I never had the confirmation or the closure that I needed. Now I know.
So, if we were keeping score, things look like this...
Miscarriage at six months of trying.
Five years infertility.
Scrunch was adopted :)!! Best. Day. Ever.
Fertility treatments that didn't work. Like zero, zilch affect.
Surprise pregnancy of Porkchop with a little surprise ending. Pumping exclusively for a year. Exclusively pumping for that long is worse than unmedicated labor. But he is worth it and at three years old wants to be a doctor or dentist so as long as I am nice to my DIL, he'll take care of me when I am old.
Bam! Quick turn around and a pregnancy with Juju. Juju is my easy one in every way. Easy to get here, easier pregnancy, easy baby. She just can't be the youngest or she will be spoiled and ruined by all of us.
Little hiatus while we fulfill what we felt was a call to action and fostered three kids.
Miscarriage at two months of trying.
Well, at least we haven't just been sitting around.
Late Saturday night I received a blessing and I was honestly a little disappointed. I wanted so badly to hear, "You will have a normal pregancy." "This baby will be healthy and strong." Something. But instead I got, "Know that your Father in Heaven is mindful of you and that he loves you and has a plan for you." Aw, crap! I thought. "I bless you to have peace." was repeated what felt like thirty-seven times. And I was like, "Really? really? Is that the best we can do? Come on!" These were my ungratefully wicked thoughts.
Now I am grateful for the blessing. To be blessed with peace does not mean you are happy with the outcome- only that you are accepting of God's will. It has been my experience that you can feel peace and God's love even during the crappiest of times. I have always felt that there was a plan. His plan is always better than any crappy plan I could come up with- my children are a testament to that. I just wish I had a little more of a heads up as to what it was sometimes (or all the time).
I saw this on Facebook yesterday and I liked it. I don't know if it's doctrinal, but I'd like to believe it is. The last year has heard a lot of "No's" around here so I'm banking on a "Yes!" any day now. (Sell my house. Please sell. Pretty, pretty, pretty please sell my house. Oh, and I'd like some dairy goats for Christmas.)
Oh. And another thing...I have some very kind and thoughtful people in my life who have expressed a desire to do something, to help in some way. I really appreciate you all. The first time someone asked if they could put our names on the prayer roll of the temple was Fran. She was the grandmother of the baby that we never adopted. She wanted us to raise that baby almost as badly as we did and the whole experience was just hard, hard, hard for everybody. It was especially hard for me so when she asked of course I said yes. The week following was a low point emotionally and spiritually, but I felt lifted and peaceful and I know it was because of those praying for me. The second time someone asked if they could pray for me was Nancy. I was about 34/35ish weeks with Porkchop and it just felt too soon to be going into labor with him. She prayed on the phone (which I've written about before) and I carried him to his exact due date. My sister is a faithful temple roll name placer. I don't know if she e-mails them or what, but before she even asks if it is okay it is done. Do not underestimate the power that your prayers for others have in their lives. They are felt. This has been a great lesson for me.
My very last lesson for the day, I promise...the media and our culture like to talk about how teenagers have gone to pot (womp, womp). And how there's no hope for any of us. Future generations are doomed. Blah, blah. Maybe some kids are having it rough, but there are others who have been raised by good parents who are good and kind, and generous, and thoughtful. I can't tell the story without crying but two of my kids in my Sunday School class (who are also brother and sister) asked if they could come and see me. They don't even know what was wrong. They just knew that Hermana Traver was not teaching class unexpectedly and was home. Their dad is in the Bishopric and with John being secretary he knew he could call. Dad drives truck and mom cleans houses so their lives are not glamorous, but they are rock solid good people raising good kids. They stopped by for a few minutes with a giant chunk of cake from her Quinceanera and to visit. While they were here their Dad announced that the kids had something for me and they proceeded to sing a song I'd played for them during a lesson months ago. They were awesome and when I told them so they beamed and said it was the song I taught them. God love them for that! The simplest, most thoughtful thing has been such a boost and I will never forget it. Our efforts as parents to work hard, be kind, be generous blesses our kids. And it in turn blesses others.
Thanks for the happy thoughts, prayers, texts, calls, and messages. I'm fine. Everything is going to be better than okay. It always is.
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