compassion

this is something i have learned so far on my journey. by no means am i a master of compassion. no - i'm still in the apprentice phase. but my eyes have been opened and my heart softened by going through the toughest suffering of my life.

before my experience of losing two babies, i was always the person who was uncomfortable in emotional situations. i never knew what to say to people who were experiencing trials, to those who'd lost a loved one, to those diagnosed with a disease, etc. and i was definitely not the girl who administered hugs and shared tears.

so, you would think now that i understand how it feels to be on the opposite side - the one going through the trial - that i completely get why people don't know what to say to me. but i don't. i find myself frustrated that most people just don't know what to make of what happened. they don't know what to say, they seem uncomfortable, and they seem to be oblivious that i am in more pain than i could have ever imagined possible.

i can't help that i am hypersensitive to anything baby-related. everywhere i go it's like i have this baby radar and it hones in on a target then bam, i am stabbed in the heart over and over. going to stonebriar and seeing a gabillion moms pushing strollers - stab in the heart. meeting someone new and being asked, "so, do you have kids?" - stab in the heart. YES, I HAVE TWO KIDS EXCEPT THEY'RE UP IN HEAVEN CHILLIN' TILL I GET THERE. walking past our empty baby room - stab in the heart. getting a lab bill from when i was preggers - stab in the heart. the list goes on and on and on.

so what can i do about my hypersensitivity?

pray.

that's all i know to do.

i can't control how i feel, i can't control what others say. i can't help that others have not walked in my shoes to understand the pain i am enduring. this just happens to be my trial and no one else's.

however, unfortunately, but fortunately for me, i have found others who have gone through and are also going through a similar trial. it's important to get connected with those who DO understand and can relate to your feelings. you can find strength in knowing you are not alone and by sharing your journey with those who can support you. know that it's not just your body that has to heal. pain from a broken heart and sad soul is much more difficult to recover from.

don't do it alone. you aren't alone. you are never alone.

i thought i could do it alone ... until i was in a dark, cold hospital room about to undergo surgery for a cornual ectopic pregnancy. i couldn't think. i couldn't breathe. i was completely numb. i was scared. angry. shaking in fear that we had to make such a life or death decision with absolutely no time to explore options. there were no options. i had to accept it whether i wanted to or not. all i wanted and needed more than anything at that moment of utter chaos was someone to hug me and tell me that everything was going to be OK, even though i didn't think that was possible.

and you know what - someone did.

God totally enclosed me and brought peace so quickly that everything became calm. he brought me a nurse in the ER who had experienced a miscarriage and she cried with me as she put inserted my IV. that meant the world to me. then he brought a Christian woman i look up to who prayed with us and stayed with my husband during the surgery. for the next three days i was in so much physical pain that i could only focus on that. but when i did get home, the grief hit me like an avalanche, except instead of heavy snow barrelling downhill, it was tears. unstoppable, unpreventable tears.

and that's when i started the healing process - emotionally.

it's true that it always gets worse before it gets better. and while i'm still having challenging days, i know, no, i believe that life is good and all is not lost. i am so thankful that i've been a mom and i can't wait to meet my kids one day.

believe. hope. persevere.

"For the Lord is full of mercy and compassion." James 5:11