Part 2 of 4
DH had quietly waited all those years for God to work in my life. I knew now that this was definitely God’s will. I firmly believe that God will ALWAYS convict your husband too when He wants something of this magnitude to happen in your family. Yes, you may feel convicted and really really really want to implement your convictions right away, but there is an order of household and you are not at the top. It may just be that God needs you to be ready to step up to the plate when the time comes. But, whatever you do–DO NOT NAG, DO NOT PLAY THE MARTYR, and DO NOT BAD MOUTH HIM TO EVERYONE because he isn’t as “good of a Christian” as you are.
So, back to my story…
From that point on, I searched and searched for other families like us. I couldn’t find any in the town we were living in. There were some large families, but none that were fully and completely leaving their family planning up to God. I found a large online community at MOMYS & Quiverfull. On MOMYS, there is a posting rule that you must have 4 children ages 8 and under to actually post, but you can be a Read-Only member. Since, my children were only 4 months and 3 years, I felt for sure it would only be a matter of a couple of years before I would be a real live MOMYS.
Meanwhile, I posted to the Quiverfull digest, but I often felt left out. Here were all these people with 5, 7, 10 kids and me, with my measly 2, had not a clue what life must be like logistically with all those littles! I began to be concerned only with making babies. How quickly could I get pregnant, so we could get this show on the road?!
As the months wore on, I still wasn’t pregnant. I slowed on how often I was nursing the baby and finally weaned her altogether at 1 year because I thought that must be what was “holding me back” from getting pregnant again. No one would ever know I was quiverfull if they didn’t see me with a ton of kids!!! I wanted the whole world to be able to SEE our convictions. I wanted the tactless comments, so I could pontificate upon the joys of having scads of children. Why wasn’t God working with me here?!
Shortly after the baby turned 1, Ty received a call from the U.S. Government. His unit was being deployed for what turned out to be a year long tour of duty. If anyone cares to do the math…I was convicted when baby was 4 months…Ty was deployed when baby was 12 months. Had I become pregnant right away, DH would have been out of the country, unable to come home for the birth. So, God does know more than me! ( Jokes aside, I am so very grateful God did not allow me to have a child during that time. Ty is a HUGE part of every pregnancy and delivery–neither one of us could imagine him not being there.)
Ty came home shortly before Christmas. 2 days on U.S. soil, and I was pregnant! 2 months into the pregnancy, Ty was deployed AGAIN. This time to a stateside post 2.5 hours from our home. 1 month after that, I went for a routine OB visit and the nurses couldn’t find a heartbeat. I was whisked to the sonogram room where I saw a tiny malformed baby with no heartbeat lying motionless in my uterus. I was 13.5 weeks. After waiting a few days, it was clear my body had no intention of letting go of this child any time soon and a D&C was scheduled for St. Patrick’s Day. The doctor checked via sono one last time to make sure baby was truly dead and then proceeded with the surgery. I was terrified and when I came out of the anesthesia, I had my first and only stress-induced asthma attack.
As I recovered in the little curtained-off room, I decided I wanted this all behind me. I wanted to pretend as if I had never been pregnant. I felt I had wasted my time with a baby that was never going to live. I was angry at God. I was angry at the world. I didn’t want to face the pitiful looks on people’s faces when I came home. I just wanted to be normal…not the girl who had yet another miscarriage. I also wanted to get on about the business of getting pregnant.
Ty was still deployed, but I was seeing him on a fairly regular basis. I made sure to time my visits with my most fertile time, but once again, pregnancy alluded me. The baby’s due date began to creep nearer and nearer and there was no new little life to help me cope with it.
September 2003 was a hard month for me. Both of the miscarriages had been with September babies. I felt as if September was jinxed and I had a distinct fear of getting pregnant near Christmas because of when the due date would be. I cried nearly every day of September and begged God for another baby.
I felt forsaken. I had given my family planning over to God and He had given me NOTHING in return.
(to be continued in Part 3)