I searched my heart but couldn't find what was 'off'. I prayed but I couldn't seem to find a reason as to why I was feeling so detached. The feeling, or lack thereof, was driving me crazy, and even as we drove to Pennsylvania to spend a short week with family to celebrate, I still wasn't feeling it and I had no idea why. After all, I should be excited, right? This coming year we are planning on so many exciting things. The baby I now carry has brought with it so much happiness, joy, and anticipation for the coming year. I expected to be so full of Christmas spirit just because of this gift I was carrying, but yet it was still lacking. What was wrong with me?!
As I lay in bed one night, I decided to crack open my Bible and read that familiar story once again in an attempt to 'wake up' or feel something of the excitement I've felt in the past. By dim lamplight, my eyes followed my fingers to Luke 1. I decided to start there to read about the encounter of Mary with Elizabeth. It seemed like a good place to get a dose of excitement...even Elizabeth's baby jumped with joy in that part of the story! How could I read it and not get excited, too? But as I read I found something I wasn't expecting. Slowly, as I read the story, something struck me like a lightening bolt that I had never noticed before. As I reflected on the following words, I began to understand my lack of Christmas joy this year.
"Both of them were righteous in the sight of God, observing all the Lord's commands and decrees blamelessly. But they were childless because Elizabeth was not able to conceive, and they were both very old." Luke 1:6-7 I clung onto that verse for a moment, and in the darkness of the night, I realized some of what had been going on in my heart for many months; probably longer. It had nothing to do with Christmas, but it shadowed Christmas like a moonless night deep in the forest.
I knew I was carrying with me, this season, the anxiety of wondering if this baby we've been given would really be in my arms next spring like we had anticipated. I knew I was so afraid of having to say goodbye to someone so precious to me like I've had to do in the past. Pregnancy loss will do that to you. It can cause so many emotions. It had left me broken down this year, terrified that even though I carried this baby in my womb now, maybe I would still have to walk through the agonizing pain of losing this baby, too. It was too much to take in. I've become too attached to this baby to say goodbye, and I knew it, but I didn't realize how much these emotions were affecting me. I had spent this season covered in worry and anxiety, not focused on Christmas at all.
I do not have to go into detail about what issues I have experienced in the world of fertility issues and loss (that's a whole other blog!) but what I realized that quiet night in Pennsylvania, was that I had not only allowed my loss(es) to color how I was feeling about this current pregnancy, but I had allowed myself to believe the lie that I could not possibly be 'righteous' in the eyes of God (or made righteous by Him) and still suffer fertility issues. After all, aren't children a blessing from the Lord? Why wasn't I being blessed? Of course, in my mind, it must have been because I was unrighteous, horrible, having done something so wrong that God would not bless me with the gift of a baby that would stick around. How wrong I have been.
I don't know the circumstances of Elizabeth's life. But I do know that she wasn't a perfect woman. I know that she did wrong just like I do today. She was not 'sinless' and neither am I. Even in the midst of her sinfulness, God still called her 'righteous' and she still suffered with fertility issues. Further, Elizabeth followed God's commands, and notably so, but yet she still suffered in this horrible way. Righteousness did not and does not equate successful pregnancies, just as unrighteousness did not and does not equate infertility or pregnancy loss. What a relief...but ouch.
As I lay in bed, just a few short days before Christmas, I experienced God in a way I hadn't felt Him in a long time. I was reminded that God was with me and He hadn't forgotten me or hasn't ignored me cries. I was reminded that even if I never hold this baby in my arms or any other baby in the future, God still loves me; He gently reminded me that this was not a way that he was 'punishing' me for my imperfections, but rather something He is using to bring me closer to Himself. I was reminded that horribly painful things still happen to people that God views as righteous and there is always hope. There, in the dark, as my eyes welled with tears, I was reminded that each day is a gift from God and all I have to do is take one day at a time. I don't have to worry about what may or may not happen, but each day I have with this baby is special. Each day that I carry this child is a gift and if I never hold this baby in my arms, God is still good. He is still working. I can bring my brokenness to Him and He will know what to do with it.
Finally, the weight on my chest began to lift. I could finally experience Christmas and hope for the future. I could finally begin to believe that God is working a miracle in me regardless of the length of this baby's life. I felt so out of control that night, but maybe being out of control was just what God is trying to teach me. Maybe this life isn't about me.
