“For my thoughts are not your thoughts, neither are your ways my ways," declares the LORD. "As the heavens are higher than the earth, so are my ways higher than your ways and my thoughts than your thoughts."
Isaiah 55:8-9
I haven't even attempted to write a blog post in at least a month; the events during that time have been difficult, but it's time I started sharing what the Lord has revealed to me.
On September 24 of this year, I found out I was pregnant. I found out very early, and only took a pregnancy test because I felt an urging to do so. What followed were four blood tests and a confusing ultrasound. My levels were where they needed to be, and I knew without a doubt I was six weeks along at this first ultrasound, but we didn't see anything but a black hole. I was worried, but my husband gently reminded me that this is what happened with our son. And while it was troubling and disappointing not being able to see our baby on the screen, I held on to that memory and believed in my heart that if we gave it another couple of weeks, everything would turn out as it had before; we would see our baby and its fluttering heartbeat, and know that God had truly blessed us with a miracle once again.
The date of my second ultrasound was October 20. It was a crisp, cloudless morning, and my husband and I were planning on going out of town for a much-needed vacation that weekend, so I was excited yet nervous as I buckled our son into his carseat and started toward the doctor's office to meet Randall. About a minute into the trip, a familiar song came on the radio. You may remember from a past post that this song brought me great comfort during the two weeks of uncertainty of my pregnancy with our son. It speaks about being carried by God and placing our hope in Him even in the midst of a storm. The song is a few years old, and I don't hear it on the radio all that often anymore. I couldn't help but think that God Himself played this song for me, knowing I would be in the car and headed to the ultrasound at that moment. I praised Him for His thankfulness and believed that this song was a sign that everything would be all right, just as it had two and a half years earlier.
About an hour later, my husband and I stared at the screen in the ultrasound room with heavy hearts. Try as she might, the ultrasound tech couldn't find any evidence that a baby was in there. When we should have been able to see the small form of our developing child, all we saw were bits of matter scattered here and there in a sickening, disorganized array. It became clear that we would have to say good-bye to another one of our children, and I remember saying to Randall once we were alone in the room, "I don't think I can go through this again." He answered back, "Yes, you can," and immediately after those words I heard God speak into my soul, "I'm with you."
It would be several hours later, when my husband and I had dropped off our son with his grandparents and were headed to Tennessee to take our trip as planned, when I would think of that song again and wonder why it had played on the radio that morning. Why would God do that to me? I thought back on the lyrics of the song, and realized that it still brought me comfort even in this situation. It, like most of the songs that revolve around God and His goodness, spoke the truth. And His truth is steadfast in any circumstance, even in this one that still doesn't make sense to me almost a month later. I don't know why He allowed me to get pregnant again, I don't know why He told me to take the pregnancy test so early since knowing early ended up not saving the child's life, and I don't know why this child was destined only for Heaven and not for earth here with me first. I just know that His ways are higher than mine. It hurts, and I suspect it will hurt for awhile. Like with the first child we lost, there will come a day when I don't think of what I've lost every minute, but I know little pangs of hurt and disappointment will come and go for the rest of my life. Maybe He does this so I won't ever stop longing for my true home, and so I won't ever forget that there is a higher purpose for all of us.
Even though this second miscarriage has been a lot more painful and difficult than the first (both emotionally and physically), I am still thankful for His faithfulness. I never doubted His love and sovereignty for a moment. He knows I'm hurting and cries along with me. I'm thankful for His hand, even though I'm not always sure about what He's doing. And I'm thankful that His ways are higher than mine. He may be a mystery at times, but He's the only One I trust. His words, even when sung as song lyrics, are true and can speak to my heart no matter how a situation turns out. And I'm grateful for that one constant that I can count on when nothing else in life seems sure. He IS my constant!
