1 Year

There is a common saying: "What a difference a year makes".  This past year has been a whole heap of blessing, and trial. 

Thursday marked my year anniversary of my hysterectomy.  This month, especially the past few weeks have been an emotional struggle. I had heard, from others in my place, that it would be, especially with the first year passing.

It feels silly to be so emotional about something like this.  I guess it's the meaning behind it.  The end.  So final.  It's been difficult to come to terms with that.  I have moments of contentment.  But mostly, I am still hurting, and still feel very betrayed by my own body.  I am broken hearted to lose what I had planned for my life, and what I had lived for. 

I spoke with an old acquaintance from high school this week, and she excitedly told about her plans for her upcoming voluntary hysterectomy.  My heart broke for her, knowing the other side of it. I remember talking myself into excitement, and trying to act positive and happy about my hysterectomy.  I tried to only find the happy points, and chose not to look at the finality, and the pain that would come.  I wish I had been more prepared, let myself be upset about it, when it happened.  I wonder if that would have made things easier now? Perhaps not.

Confession: I spent most Thursday in a funk, and crying.  I felt silly, but almost relieved at the tears that poured down my face. It was healing in a way.  I know that each year, when this time comes, I'll have a day like that day, but that's ok.  Once a year, is ok right?

What a difference a year makes.  I look forward to what this next year will bring.

For This Child I Prayed...

"For this child I prayed; and the Lord hath given me my petition which I asked of him"

1 Samuel 1:27

As I mentioned in my last post, I struggled for years with a) getting pregnant and b) staying pregnant.  Those who suffered from endo, PCOS, infertility, miscarriage, and or cancer, know how utterly heartbreaking any of these things can be, especially when you desperately want a child.  They are incredibly painful both physically, and emotionally. 

Before I had my little Cricket, I had two tragic miscarriages, and a grueling surgery for the endo, and tons of medicine for the endo, PCOS, and infertility.  It took The Hubs and I four years to get her. I begged and pleaded for her, I prayed constantly, and fought for her.  In between Cricket and Little Bear I had another miscarriage, cancer, and 5 more surgeries.  After the cancer, I was told that I would never have another child.  The doctor and my parents begged me to schedule a hysterectomy.  When I found out I was pregnant again, I was both overjoyed and devastated.  I knew I could never carry the child to term, and I was brokenhearted at the thought of losing yet another child.  I started bleeding very badly early on and expected the worst, I went to the doctor and was told I had lost the baby, and I needed to immediately schedule surgery to remove the dead baby, and also a huge cyst that was growing that was a suspected tumor.  I knew that my baby wasn't dead, and begged for progesterone, and hormone tests to keep him alive.  They refused, and begged me to quite being in denial and have the surgery.  Something in me told me it was wrong, and so I sought a second opinion.  I will be forever grateful I did, because it saved Little Bear's life.  I learned that the bleeding was from the loss of his twin, and from my placenta abrupting during it's miscarriage.  During my pregnancy with Little Bear, I had many scares, including but not limited too, preterm labor, placental abruption, placental previa, 26 weeks straight of extreme bedrest (35 weeks total my entire pregnancy), cord problems, and many more.  Through it all, everyone I knew prayed.  Not only did I pray for him every single day before I knew he was mine, but every second of his life, in my womb, and out. 

I knew he was my last hope for one last baby for our family, I knew I needed him, and through him I learned of the Lord's tender, yet perfect mercy for us.  He strengthened my faith in God, myself, and the world.  He is my perfect miracle, my blessing after so, so, so much pain.  He has been my saving grace everyday since his conception. 

Since him, I had one more surgery, one that brought an end to my ability to have children, one that sent me into a period of my life 20 years too early.  It has been my most difficult journey, but I could not do it without the perfect promise and hope he brings to my life.  He somehow makes it all worth it and ok.

His life has been one of struggles so far. He fought with his whole being to come to Earth.  Nearly died at his birth, and has suffered much since.  He screams in agony more often than not, but in the not moments, he is the happiest, sweetest little boy I have ever seen. He shows so much strength, and wisdom. He has an old soul.  He shows me how to have grace and perfection in pain, and shows me how to be perfect in weakness.  By shear force of will, he is happy, and makes sure others are too.  He knows just when I need him, and he never leaves my side.  When my heart is breaking, and I ache, and become bitter, he shows me how amazing, how very, very blessed I truly am.  He is my heart, he knows me, my weakness, and my strength.  

For this child I prayed. For this child I pray.