Most people that know us know that I suffer from recurrent pregnancy loss which has resulted in the loss of every child we have conceived. Over the first 5 years of our marriage we lost 5 children, one each year. It wasn't easy for me to get pregnant, and the first 3 years we were actively trying, even working with medical intervention. But what we haven't shared with many, is in 2014 we lost 3 more children. Something clearly changed in my body that made it easier for me to get pregnant, but unfortunately did not change my ability to sustain the pregnancy. The first pregnancy wasn't a shock, but the second and then the third were hard to handle. There's a physical toll on my body, but its the emotional one that makes 3 pregnancies in a span of 6 months so difficult. There's hope and then feeling stupid for hoping, there's constant worry that I stood up too fast, was too active, too stressed or did something else to jeopardize the pregnancy. Any expectant mom knows, it doesn't matter how many doctors tell you there's nothing you can do, you always feel like you need control, so you control what you can, like moving and eating. Because the worst feeling of all, the one that consumes me when I am pregnant, is that I am simply waiting for my child to die, and there's absolutely nothing I can do. In my opinion, there is no greater pain in the entire world, except watching your child suffer while you can do nothing to stop it. In experiencing these two things I have learned on a deeper level about the love my God has for me, because He did both for me, and He CHOSE it. He could have done something about it, but He didn't, for me.
You'll often hear me reference that it has been in the darkest times in my life that I have felt the closest to God, and also those times when I have grown in holiness. With my first miscarriages, while I can look back and realize this, I didn't see or feel it at the time, and I was very hurt, bitter and angry. Through a lot of spiritual growth, my pregnancies are less painful in the spiritual sense because I know my God is with me and giving me the strength to get through it. I know He isn't punishing me or taking my children from me, and I know that He is using my hurts and brokenness to bring about something greater. Knowing all of these things allows me to just try to enjoy that for a short time I get the gift of this beautiful life, this miracle, living inside of me. I soak up the closeness I feel to Jesus as He draws near to comfort me during a difficult time. But even though anger and bitterness are gone, grief over the loss of my child always remains.
When I found myself pregnant for the 8th time, I found myself in a special prayer where I asked God to save this child, and He replied gently: "your plan or Mine?" I knew He was right, so even though it broke my heart, I didn't ask Him to go against His plan and save my child, instead I asked Him to comfort me.
Three weeks later, on July 10th, baby Augie went to heaven. No amount of understanding makes that part easier. I can't explain the pain of holding your lifeless child in the palm of your hand. From my first to my eighth, they have each equally hurt and caused a pain to the depth of my very soul. God's gift to me, is in the midst of that pain, He meets me. He doesn't take away the pain, but He gives me what I need to handle it. And in those darkest, most horrible moments He has changed my heart and allowed me to know Him on a deeper level and for that reason alone, I am grateful for my suffering. I won't ask that it be taken, and I will embrace any new pain, because it draws me nearer to Him, and to be near to Him is what I was made for and all I truly desire, whether I realize it at the time or not.
God isn't just using this pain to help me grow in holiness, He's also using it to bring about His magnificent plan. A lot of doctors visits ended with a surgery drug out 3 weeks after Augie was born. After a lot of prayer, and at one specific Mass, my husband and I both felt God telling us that He was going to grow our family through adoption. We had been hoping to adopt over the last year, but were still waiting. And then, the phone rang. Home recovering from the surgery on July 31st, I received a phone call from our Social Worker telling us about a potential foster care placement that would most likely lead to adoption. The baby wasn't even born yet, and the birth parents were willing place the baby for adoption if they were happy with the foster family chosen. "Would we be interested?" It's hard not to laugh at that question, or scream at the top of my lungs "OF COURSE!" After a little more information from another social worker, we arranged a meeting with the birth mother. I've never wanted anyone to like me so badly in my whole life! Luckily, we instantly connected. I'd always heard that there is a special connection with a birth parent, but never understood until then. We truly love her and could easily be good friends. 
The baby was due at the end of the week, and we went home and waited for the phone call. Finally, after the longest week of my life, they scheduled her to be induced after going over her due date. We were blessed to be there for the entire labor and delivery where I grew to love this woman even more. After spending 9 months giving her body for this child, now she suffered such pain for a child she would not keep. I watched her and I felt so helpless. Wanting so badly to take away her pain, not knowing the right words to say, and feeling guilty because this should be my pain and not hers. But all I could do was pray. And when she held that beautiful baby in her arms and told him how much she loved him as she handed him to me, my heart couldn't contain the sorrow and joy that I was experiencing. Sorrow again in the helpless feeling of wanting to ease her pain, and joy in seeing the beauty of God's plan. Just a month ago, I handed my child over to Him, and as always, my God is trustworthy and has turned my sorrow to dancing. I know He will do the same for Samuel's birth mom who offered the same trust in Him as she handed her child over.
We named him Samuel, because it means "asked of God" (Go read the book of 1 Samuel) Hannah is barren and prays for a child and God grants her request. What we liked the most was this line: "For this child I prayed and the Lord has granted my petition. Therefore, for as long as he lives, he is given to the Lord." 1 Samuel 27-28 After years of praying and waiting for a child, Hannah wouldn't have been blamed for having held tight to her precious gift, but instead she takes him to live with Eli to serve God. Our Samuel is my child, and he is his birth mom's child, but most of all He is God's, and therefore, he has always been given to God, but it was especially special at his baptism to make our promise official.
Photo credit of the two above to my AMAZINGLY talented and wondeful friend Ashley Stoel
For the last 7 months, our hearts have overflowed with the joy in bringing Samuel home and settling in to our family of four. Nathaniel loves being a big brother and I would argue he's the best one I've ever met, constantly giving sweet kisses, offering a toy or kind word when he's crying, and doing anything that will make him laugh. We are so so happy. And yet, here I am on my 30th birthday writing a post about 30 not being what I expected. Yes, it's not what I expected. Not at all what I envisioned or planned or even strove toward. I learned a long time ago that God's plan is so much better than mine. But the lesson it took 30 years to learn and will probably take 30 more to master is that it really isn't the things that happen in life that are important, but instead that I allow those things to bring me closer to Him. Instead of thinking "I thought by the age of 30 I would have more kids" or "I thought by 30 I would have been farther along in my professional career" I should instead be saying "I never thought by the time I would 30 I would know God this intimately." I should be saying "By the time I'm 40 I want to be so connected to His love, His presence, His will, that's its hard to tell the difference between where I end and He begins." And if it takes 30 more years of suffering and pain to make that happen, I'll gladly walk that road, because the company is like none other.
I feel like the song "Keep Making Me" by Sidewalk Prophets says the same thing I just did but so much better. Take some time to pray it, especially during lent when we strip everything else away so we can see what really matters. Here are the lyrics:
Make me broken
So I can be healed
‘Cause I’m so calloused
And now I can’t feel
I want to run to You
With heart wide open
Make me broken
Make me empty
So I can be filled
‘Cause I’m still holding
Onto my will
And I’m completed
When you are with me
Make me empty
[Chorus:]
‘Til You are my one desire
‘Til You are my one true love
‘Til You are my breath, my everything
Lord, please keep making me
Make me lonely
So I can be Yours
‘Til I want no one
More than You, Lord
‘Cause in the darkness
I know You will hold me
Make me lonely
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