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A Brave Battle With Miscarriages
The Mother Of All Battles
It's one thing to agree 'life's not fair; but another to actually live through it's hellish reality. Just when I thought i had already experienced the worse and begun to accept heaven's dealings and portion, came the 'perfect storm'. I don't think i heard it right, that we beware that after we have bounced back from fighting life's battles, we are safe and that we have secured our victory for the next. It's a totally wrong premise. I learned the hard way, that it's delusional to presume because we have successfully outsmarted and beat our last foe, we will not be visited by another. And possibly a more daunting enemy. I was standing tall, having survived my brother's death, my sister and my own bout with cancer, our father's bankruptcy and the family's eventual break-up. I felt fortunate and had no inkling, that another battle was about to ensue. That a much bigger adversary was waiting to harm those who i loved dearly. Tsk tsk, so everything was just the 'tip of the iceberg'? In what i consider to be the 'mother of all battles', called for the summoning of, whatever faith i held, the community of prayers i have depended upon, all the good deeds performed to buy me goodwill and hopefully victory, Desperate times called for desperate measures.
The first time she had a miscarriage, the baby was barely three months in her womb. It was medically explained that this stage in pregnancy was the most vulnerable to the mother and child. To lose the fetus this young was not all that unique. Sad as it were, the young couple were merely advised to get over their loss and at best, to try again. Still, we mourned the child we all wanted so badly. But, we accepted what we couldn't change, and we allowed ourselves to be comforted by the thought, there will be a 'next' one.
But, our daughter's ordeal had just begun. Her second pregnancy was announced with even greater excitement. It was like "Hooray! See, that wasn't so hard?" Everything was fine and seemed normal. She was in the care of an excellent OBGyne, and her regular check-ups all indicated there were no reasons for concern. She passed the volatile months, until her 5th month. Then, wham! The untimely labor, again! We went into panic and horror as in all hell broke loose! She had miscarried again and with the shock came our feeling of complete helplessness. The ordeal was extremely horrifying and there were more questions than there would be answers. The doctors explanations were insufficient, not that we thought that they were incompetent nor were they lying. Death had stung us once more, and without the grace of God, it was more than we could handle.
Our healing process would be excruciatingly long, with sadness and sorrow following us, like forever. I agonized over my child's dilemma and wondered if she would ever know the fulfillment and the privilege of motherhood. I questioned a God who could allow a woman with all purity of love for her babies, only for them to be 'snatched' away and snuffed like candlelight. It just seemed cruel. And yet, deep in my heart, i knew my arrogant query would lead nowhere. If it were all a waiting game, then i was willing to wait. Never mind that my friends were flaunting their beautiful grandchildren's pictures everytime we met. I loved that they were happy, but i was dying inside.
I prayed for recovery, that my daughter would find strenght and purpose despite the tragic events. I couldn't bear to see her lose her self esteem and to feel guilt that she was being 'punished' by an angry God. The last baby reached seven months. but he would die because of a birth defect. As if it were not enough, her courageous attempt to try again would bring the total number of her miscarriages to five. By this time, we have shed too much tears and there were no more. What do you do when the storm rages on? Where do you go when it feels like you're going though hell? There are no easy answers. But, you just keep going.
Just when we think all hope seems lost, a light flickers in our darkness We hear a song and it carries our spirit to a place of refreshing. Someone streches a hand and takes us out where we have been trapped. My daughter lost her babies, her marriage, but she did not lose her soul. She would rise from the ashes of unfathomable grief to regain her beauty and faith. She would shine, brighetr, like a polished gem. Our love for each other held us together. We believed that goodness and mercy would guide our way.
A Happy Beginning:
7 years ago, my daughter Anna met a wonderful man who she fell in love with and eventually married. She had told him about her condition and the possibility that she may not be able to give him a child. He assured her that her well being was more important to him. But, after 2 years, they agreed to give it a try and consult with a specialist. In short, Anna was diagnosed to be 'high risk' and needed treatment for some health/cervical anomaly. Corrected, she became pregnant. She went through a procedure called "cerclage" to secure her baby. She completed the full nine months and gave birth to a beautiful healthy baby girl. To us, this was a miracle! We were all beside ourselves with so much joy and thanksgiving. She is named "Keona", a Hawaiian word meaning "God's precious gift". She will be turning five this year.