God Has Answered

November 20 will always and forever be a date that is seared into my memory. I’ve been thinking about this date for weeks. Unsure of the emotion this day would bring but fully aware that there is a Jenna that existed BEFORE this date and a different Jenna AFTER this date.

We’d been trying to have a baby for just over a year. Looking back, that isn’t a very long time. But at the time, it felt like an eternity. Perhaps, especially, because I got pregnant with Ethan VERY quickly then when we decided to have another baby, it just wasn’t happening. When we finally did get pregnant, after several months, it ended in a miscarriage.

It would have been easy to believe the lies that the enemy so often wanted to whisper in my ears. Lies like Ben and I were somehow being punished or I wasn’t meant to be a mother and several others. Honestly, I was beginning to feel sad about it and I was learning to say, “okay, Lord, if all you give us is one child, I’m okay with that. I trust you.”

Then one night last fall we found out that Ben’s brother and sister-in-law were expecting a baby. I literally could not stop screaming when I saw the bandannas they’d tied around their dogs’ necks. I couldn’t stop screaming long enough to say why I was screaming, I couldn’t stop screaming to hug them, I couldn’t stop screaming when everyone told me to stop screaming. I was so excited!!

But, before we left their house that evening, Ben and I both began to feel the sadness set in. It was bittersweet — we were so excited for them but equal parts sad for us. It felt hard. It was hard. We hadn’t shared with anyone but our parents about the miscarriage earlier in the year and we wanted a baby so badly. I remember saying to Ben when we got home, “I want to baby so our baby can grow up with their baby.”

I got in the shower and I remember saying out loud, “do you see me, God? I just need to know you see me and hear me that’s all.” As we got into bed that night, a Facebook message popped up on my phone. It was from someone who attends the same church we do. I can still remember her exact message:

“Hi Jenna. This is —— from —— campus. I just feel to tell you that, the God you serve and love, sees you and knows your heart and wants you to know he hears you, he is near and will fulfill his promise to you.”

This message still gives me the chills. This person and I had only ever met once months prior, we’d never communicated outside of that introduction, she had no idea we’d been trying to have a baby, she didn’t know about our miscarriage (at the time only our parents knew about it), and she definitely didn’t know the joy and sadness we were feeling in that exact moment.

And, did you catch it? She said, “will fulfill his PROMISE (not promises) to you.” This was a prophetic word about one specific promise. She had no idea about what promise that was — but we knew exactly what it was.

My response to her, “You can’t even know how timely this word is. It is exactly what I needed tonight. Exactly. Thank you so much. I can’t even thank you enough.”

One month later, November 20 — the due date of the baby we lost — we found out that I was pregnant. I couldn’t even believe it. He’d been faithful. He’d been beautifully faithful.

Right around that time, Ben’s brother and sister-in-law had a gender reveal party — they were having a girl! A few months later we learned we’d be having a girl. Not only was God giving us babies to raise together, but also two GIRLS to raise together further answering my desire to have children who would grow up together.

I don’t know what promise you’re waiting for God to fulfill. Maybe it’s a baby or a relationship, a job, healing, redemption, restoration, freedom, a loved ones salvation, anything. Maybe you’re getting tired of praying for the same thing over and over and over again. I get it. But I know this — He WILL fulfill His promise to you. And if you ever question it (and I don’t think it’s a bad thing to be honest with our God) you need look no further than the little baby we name Eliana — her name means, “God has answered.”

Due Date

Seven months ago we encountered a grief we’d never expected – we found out we were miscarrying a baby. I still grieve the little baby we will never know this side of heaven. But I take comfort in knowing three things: God is still on the throne, nothing is wasted, and we aren’t alone in this journey.

Thank you to the brave women who have shared your stories recently with me and on social media. You’ve comforted, encouraged, and inspired me through my own grief.

I wrote the words below the day after learning that our baby had stopped growing and I’m sharing our story today –on what would have been our baby’s due date, November 20, 2018.

Some days I struggle to find the same optimism that I wrote this blog with but every day, I choose joy. And joy is not always the easiest choice but it’s what I choose.

This is our story…

----------

Thursday morning, March 22, 2018 I awoke and quickly jumped out of bed.

There were two lines – TWO LINES!

I laid the test on Ben’s chest. It was faint but it was there. We celebrated and took a picture. I called the doctor and made an appointment. I’d be 8 weeks and 2 days along at the time of the appointment.

A few days later, I took another test and the word “pregnant” appeared. I was filled with joy.

Thursday, April 12 I awoke late because Ethan had been sick and up in the middle of the night. Ben took the day off work to accompany me to the doctor and since Ethan was sick he’d be tagging along, too.

We arrived, filled out some paperwork, and went into the sonogram room.

The tech asked me some questions and then I looked at her face. I asked, “do you see a baby?” She turned the screen towards me and said, “you’re only measuring at five weeks which means...” “there’s no baby.” I finished the sentence. “I’m so sorry,” she said, and her eyes welled up with tears.

Ethan, my precious, very aware, and very compassionate son, saw the look on my face and said, “Mommy. Mommy.” His eyes welled with tears. I told him it’s okay and he said, “I hold you” and he climbed onto my lap.

We were moved into another room to meet with the doctor. At just five weeks, our baby had stopped growing. By eight weeks, we should have seen a heartbeat and a little baby the size of a raspberry.

But that wasn’t to be.

We talked to the doctor and asked questions. The office staff couldn’t have been nicer or more compassionate. One blood draw later and we were on our way.

While we don’t know if the baby was to be a boy or a girl, I named her April Joy. April for the month we knew we’d be meeting her in heaven and Joy for the joy she brought to our lives.

I’m amazed at the sovereignty of God and his grace and mercy. One of my first thoughts after receiving the news was, “this is no surprise to Jesus.” I’m comforted in knowing that God is so much bigger than this and He’s already holding April Joy until we meet her one day. I never quite understood what it felt like to long for a place I’d never been but today, I long for heaven and the day we’ll meet our baby.

We know now that this probably means there was something abnormal with the pregnancy. And a miscarriage is my body’s way of protecting me. While we’ll probably never know exactly what the abnormality was, we do believe that it is God’s sovereignty that is allowing us to experience this pain verses a miscarriage later in the pregnancy which would be more dangerous for the baby and me.

I am sad, but I am grateful to know a God who loves me, who knows the hairs on my head, and has written His name on my heart. He’s still King and He still sits on the throne. As one of my favorite authors, Lysa Terkeurst says, “God is good, God is good to me, God is good at being God.”

Although I am sad and grieving, I know we’re held closely by the Father who holds our baby. I know He mourns with us, I know He entrusted a baby to us, and I believe that he’ll do it again. I will worship Him and thank Him for the baby who was “fearfully and wonderfully made.”

He makes all things work together for our good. I believe that the very core of my being.

"I will remain confident in this: I will see the goodness of the Lord." Psalm 27:13

----------

Most days I wear a necklace with an arrow hanging from it. Engraved on the side is Psalm 127 “Children are like arrows in the hands of a warrior.” It’s fitting that in October, on the Annual Pregnancy and Infant Loss Day, I added a second arrow. I needed something to remember our baby with; something to know the baby existed – that for a few short weeks there was another life growing inside of me.

Thank you for reading our story. You’ve been a part of our healing process and you’ve helped this to not feel quite so scary. If you’re facing infertility or a miscarriage or a loss, I’d love to hear your story. There is something powerful that happens when we vocalize our pain.

Pressing On

Personal conviction...I don’t get out of bed before 7am 😉Except when the time changes, I’m wide awake at 6am 😳 And now that colder weather is here, it’s hard to get out of the warm bed and dark room.

But then I remember that what I don’t have is what I want and what I want is downstairs in a pink leather-bound book. So I pull myself out of bed and stagger downstairs but not without first donning 65 layers of warm clothes. I turn on some worship music and ask God to meet me. And He does, every time. He’s so faithful - He can’t not be faithful.

What I write in this space isn’t any magic formula. It’s simply writing what God is teaching me. It’s sharing the - f r e e d o m - He’s brought to my life. And His freedom is for everyone, which I why I can’t not share it. To keep it inside would becoming a crippling burning within me.

Nor is what’s shared in this space for believing I’m better or more forgiven than the next person. I’m so much more aware of my shortcomings and the places I need grace and mercy than I ever used to be. Sometimes the Lord brings something to the surface that I just do not want to deal with. But in His ever kind and loving way, He “leads me beside still waters and restores my soul” (Psalm 23:2-3) so in the quiet morning hours we go there. He convicts, He heals, He restores, He frees.

Today, I encourage you to create the space for Jesus. It doesn’t have to be pretty or perfect. It just has to be you and Him. He will honor the time you spend with Him. He’ll lavish His love on you. And He’ll restore to you everything that’s ever been taken from you. He is freedom.