Today's guest blogger is Deanna Johnston. I have been extremely blessed to develop a friendship with Deanna and share our experiences as new wives and new mothers. I received a rather urgent email from Deanna requesting prayers during the onset of her miscarriage. Her openness to life and to God's will in all ways is one of many admirable qualities in her. After some time she courageously blogged about her experience and has agreed to share it with all of you. This post originally appeared in www.lifeoutoftheboat.blogspot.com.
On December 15th I had a miscarriage. Over the past month I have gone through a roller coaster of emotions, and I am finding ways of healing a day at a time. I believe that writing is going to be extremely helpful in the healing process. I also want to be sensitive to those who may find reading this difficult. I simply ask for your prayers and know that I am praying for all families who have lost children.
This is not how the New Year was supposed to begin.
I was supposed to hear my baby's heartbeat for the first time at the beginning of this month. I was supposed to be taking a picture of my 11 month old in her "I'm a Big Sister!" onesie and posting it online to announce Baby #2's arrival in August. I'm supposed to be dealing with morning sickness, mood swings, and strange cravings.
But I'm not.
When we found out that we were pregnant with our second child, we were a little surprised (but not really), a little overwhelmed (2 under 2!), but so so happy. We bought our first house and moved in a week after we got the news. Everything was coming together. Were finances about to get a little interesting? Oh yes. But our family was growing, and our new house was going to be filled with one more person to love.
On December 15th it felt like all of this joy and excitement was ripped from us without any warning.
While my husband and I sat in the ER waiting for the doctors and nurses to come talk to us about what was happening, we started praying the rosary.
First Sorrowful Mystery... The Agony in the Garden.
And that's where we were.
Looking back I see how we were having our own "Let this cup pass from me" moment. I remember praying: This is an opportunity to show off, Lord. You can save our baby; you can stop the bleeding and keep our Little One safe from harm. We trust you and we have faith. Please God save our child.
But as things got progressively worse, I just went numb. And in the midst of going through the miscarriage I kept thinking "I don't want this cross. This hurts too much."
The day after our ER visit we went to the Adoration Chapel. I wasn't really sure what I wanted to say. Where Christ's words were much more profound: My God, why have you forsaken me?(Mt 27:46) all I managed to get out in the moment was "You're a Jerk." And we left.
Sure, I know that we're called to "take up [our] cross and follow Him" (Mt 16:24), but this is not the cross I wanted.
I was angry. I was hurt. None of this made any sense. Why wouldn't God let this cross pass from us? This could have been a miraculous story of healing and trusting the Lord.
A few days later, we drove from Kansas to Memphis to visit family for Christmas. I got really sick along the way (we later found out I had bronchitis and an ear infection), so I was dealing with that on top of the physical and emotional discomfort from the miscarriage. At one point the pain became overwhelming, but it was the first time I felt like I could approach the Lord in prayer without anger or hate:
Lord I didn't want this cross. It is not something I would have chosen for myself. But I desire to be close to You. If carrying this cross allows me to be more deeply united to you, I ask that you help me to embrace it... to carry it so close to my heart that it becomes intimately united with Yours. Amen
I wouldn't say the pain went away instantaneously, but praying those words in the backseat of the car led to a moment of peace and surrender. It was just a moment, but it changed everything that has happened since.
There are still moments when I am angry. I am still hurt. There are times at Mass when I just start crying because I still can't make sense of why this happened. I didn't want this cross, and I know that there will be moments where it will seem impossible to carry it.
But I am certain that this is a miraculous story of healing and trusting the Lord.
I know that God's hand has been with us, guiding us, long before our child was conceived. We have a "Little Saint" in heaven standing before the throne of God interceding for us, and that brings joy to my heart.
There are difficult moments ahead, especially as our baby's due date draws nearer.
As many people have told me over the past month, the Blessed Mother knows what it is like to lose an innocent child. In those moments when I'm so angry at God that I can't talk to Him, that's when going to her will be even more important. There's still a lot of hurt, but there's also a lot of healing taking place.
I really didn't want this cross. It was my biggest fear. At the same time, I draw so much hope and comfort from the fact that this cross, if I choose to embrace it, will bring me into a deeper union with the heart of our Lord.
This is not the cross I wanted, but I know that He will help me carry it.
Little Saint, pray for us.
be at peace walk on water be not afraid
d*
Deanna M. Johnston is a Catholic wife and Mom who also works in full time ministry in the Diocese of Dodge City. She blogs at lifeoutoftheboat.blogspot.com about the adventures in marriage, motherhood, and ministry.
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