Third 1/4 of My 40 Day Meditation Journey/Journal/Experiment

This post has been moved.  Please read it HERE.

Just To Be Clear

I am really doing all right.  For anyone who knows me (as opposed to those who read here for entertainment, information, or otherwise), I'm quite all right.  Truly.

The Lord has provided me with numerous resources and I am making use of them.  All is well and all will be well.

If you feel inspired and directed of the Lord to talk to me about or share something that relates to the subject of spontaneou abortion (aka: miscarraige), feel free to do so.  Otherwise, at this time, I would prefer simply to not talk about it.  Even the too frequent repetition of the normally benign question, "How are you?" is kinda... annoying?  That word does not have the correct connotation for my feeling, but it's close-ish.

Anyway, my point is that I've made a big step in simply making my experience somewhat public.  I'm not ready and do not desire to conversate about it in real-life.  Writing is fine.  Out loud, not so much.

And thank you, in advance, for kindly not broaching the subject.  Unless you are my Mom or husband, of course.  They can do as they like.  Special priviledge of... um... BIRTHING me and, well... you know.  ;)

Baby-Not-To-Be Record for Me

^_^ and anyone else interested, obviously ^_^

April 24, 2012 Conceived.

May 29 Around the time my baby died.

June 5 Began meditating.

June 20 Couldn't find a heart-beat with Doppler or Ultra-Sound.

June 23 Began to bleed, still thinking (hoping) I'm pregnant.

July 2 Began anger meditation 40 days.

July 6  Finished bleeding.

January 15, 2013 Baby-not-to-be's expected due date.

Why I Use the Term: Spontaneous Abortion

Do you know me?

If you do, then it'll come as no surprise when I tell you that I felt more excited and happy about this pregnancy (the one that is no more) than I've felt about any of the previous 4.  How could that be? I've wondered.  But then, as I ponder on it, it is no wonder at all.  I mean, I'm more than I was.  I have grown (and pray will continue to do so!).  I have come to understand, in some small way, at least, how much Love grows with the addition of each new baby to our family.  I have begun to feel a little competent in my roles as Mama... so, of course I would be more easily happy and joyful at a pregnancy under such conditions.

If you don't know me, then consider the above in addition to the following:  I am quiverful.  If you look in the Bible (I'm not going to take the time, cause I'm getting tired, finally) there are a couple (I think) verses that refer to a quiver full of arrows, and how a man who has many will be joyful.  Anyway... this is where the term quiverfull arises.  This term does not mean that someone who believes this way must necessarily have MANY children.  It actually means that I desire to accept the Lord's planning for my family.

I have desired to understand the Lord's Will for our family size.  As a result of my desire and effort to understand, I believe I have come to some understanding... and so I hope for each spirit that I believe is still missing.  I pray for them to come safely into their tabernacle of flesh and join our family via birth.

Also, it is pertinent to know that I am the oldest of 6 kids and when I was little my Mom's Mom would always ask me what I wanted to be when I grew up.  My firm and steady reply, "A Mom."  That's all I EVER wanted to be as a child.  And I thought I'd have 6.  Just like my Mom.  Well, I think I know a different number... at least I'm hoping for a different number of childre - more than I have, but that's really besides the point because ultimately, I desire the Lord's Will.

Okay, so... I think that's enough information to understand more fully what I'm going to share.

In my logical mind, I know I did not do anything to cause the death of the baby I was pregnant with.  I do realize this.

However, my feeling is one of absolute pain and guilt.  For, surely (it feels - and this is how the heart of man is so unreliable as we can read in His Holy Word) I am responsible.  The baby was growing in MY body, afterall.  And then died.  And my body expelled it.  I am culpable.

What I know and what I feel are at extreme odds, obviously.  I KNOW my feelings are rubbish, but I feel them completely to be truth.  I'm glad I know, and have heard repeatedly of the Lord, that they are NOT truth.  But feelings can be really very difficult to... get past.

Anyway... As I've tried to use the word miscarriage to describe my experience, I've felt this horribleness even more.  Somehow that word means to me: "I dropped my baby.  I don't know HOW that could've happened... I mean, I was carrying it just fine and then lost it."  UGH.  BLAH!  I think I cannot adequately describe to you the way it feels BLUGGLY and just horrible to consider this experience a "miscarriage"... like it's something I did.

However, "spontaneous abortion," by it's very words feel TO ME more like, "my body did this... why did my body do this thing to me... how could my baby die and my body just push it out... spontaneously?"

Does that make sense?

Well, whether it does or not, that's my story and I'm stickin' to it.

If you need some clarification, please ask specific questions.  :)

Under the Influence

A friend who was beyond appropriately named Sage (for she is a sage) once said something like, "I just think that once we can see and know what we were really dealing with here in this life, that we'll really understand how huge a part hormones played in our experience of life."  and, "I just think life would be so much easier without hormones."

Prior to this pregnancy, I've felt ups and downs during pregnancy, it is true.  Probably Jessie would convey a different experience of me than what I've felt, but I'm sharing my truth... and my truth is that I never felt like I REALLY understood what my friend was talking about because, you see, my sage of a friend was referring especially to the hormonal effects of pregnancy.  And while I had experienced some moments of a sort of almost-out-of-control-ness, I didn't feel it for the majority of the pregnancy.  Or, maybe I'm remiss and I simply cannot remember that much of the time before each of my children.  Anyway... be it as it is...  My truth is my truth and maybe I will know differently when I can perceive it all as one.  But that won't be for some time, I hope.  :)

Anyway... this time around was significantly more difficult (prior to enduring the spontaneous abortion aka miscarriage... more on why I prefer the former over the latter in another post, me thinks).

For instance, as I originally wrote this, it was very late Sunday night, June 25th (and I was already within the dark corridor of the spontaneous abortion, but did NOT know it for absolutely sure (read: had not received confirmation by bloodwork, even though I knew it by whispers and impressions of the Lord)).  I had a truly horrible experience at church that morning, but haven't ever really shared it here for many reasons, the top among them being that it would require I officially out myself as pregnant, which I thought I was.  That would've then made it super difficult for me to treasure the blessing of the pregnancy I thought I was in, in private as I desired to do.
The experience that Sunday morning truly is something no one should have to deal with.  Probably all too many of you have since we do, unfortunately, live among others who are just as shot full of sin as we are (or is it just me that's shot full of sin? HA!).  Suffice it to say that I was approached about something unnecessary, neutral words were spoken to me in a manner I took as confrontational, in the presence of my children and, being overtired and stressed out (because I was bleeding and in denial of what was going on in my body) I told the speaker to "back off" and "back off, buddy" (as my Ria remembers so clearly because she was shocked to hear me say such a thing in seriousness because that last phrase is one I have only in very serious circumstances said with any heat or venom).  The speaker did not do as I directed when saying "back off."  Already being much aggitated because of hormones, fatigue and deep concern and stress heavy in my heart (which was my reaction to heavy spotting which had begun the night before and had not subsided, but had increased (and the only reason I was at church is because Jessie said I should go) through the night (read: still bleeding as I was being told I was doing wrong by this person who became truly confrontational), I decided to leave immediately, said as much out loud, to which this unkind person replied, "Good!"  That topped the cake and an already physically shaking Tori burst out in sobbing tears, much, I'm sure, to the pleasure of the unkind person.  :(

Now, the following is my tell all on Tori because I did not handle myself well at all that day.  There were well-meaning people following me.  Hoping to help me, I'm sure.  Kind folk who just wanted me to be okay.  (They didn't come to my aid or support in this stupid confrontation, which, I think, is why I rejected their help after-the-fact.  I mean, really?  You just stand by while a woman with children is "told" by a man in no position of authority tells her where she can sit.  Really??)  Anyway, that's not a good reason OR excuse, but the truth is, I freaked out.  I mean, seriously.  At some point, I stopped, turned around, and literally yelled... no, I SCREAMED at my pursuers to stop following me.  I seriously SCREAMED....  I seriously did.  Right there in the hallway at church.  Yes.  Tori did.  Oh, I also think I yelled in the Chapel at that person who was harassing me.  I'm a sinner.  Pure-t sinner.  If you didn't know it before, now you have a REALLY clear picture of one manifestation of my sin.
I was supported.  I must say, as a result of this experience I know ever more clearly that ALWAYS, my friend, no matter what, there is an angel in our Gethsemane - however big or small a particular experience (that feels like it's huge and horrible at the time) is, an Angel is there.  Whether we see them or not.  My angel in this particular bloody garden was a friend who stealthily shadowed me to my van, silently helped pack my children away, unobtrusively suggested that she could watch them while I spoke with the Bishop (if I so chose), and generously, with Christ-like Charity drove my children and me home (because I was shaking too hard to be safe on my own).

Even in my freak-out, God provided!  Isn't He amazing!?!!

Later on, a sister who observed the whole interaction in the Chapel, wrote to me to let me know she observed and was sorry I had to deal with that.  How does one spell comfort?  I'll tell you: c-o-m-p-a-s-s-i-o-n, c-o-m-m-u-n-i-c-a-t-i-o-n and t-i-m-e.  :)

And then a bit later in the evening I received a note from a sister-in-love suggesting that she might send some clothes for Jmy to grow into... which concern I've been pushing out of my worry-wart zone because it is something that could become an issue relatively soon.  And I just felt LOVE.

Even though I totally handled myself so amazingly poorly, God showed me these concrete messages of acceptance and Love.  How awesome and amazing is that!?  And how truly wonderful the people who were instruments in His hands to help my heart heal before I was even willing to try to let go of the anger I allowed myself to feel over the whole situation.
And then Jessie put on his super shiny armor to go defend me.  It's only these sorts of ridiculous situations that could possibly require the donning of that armor and the raising of that sword of his.  And when it comes right down to it (and I am attacked by a party outside of our marriage), he has always gone to battle for me.

What a gift.

God IS Great!!!

So, YES, I'm under (and was definitely under) the influence of the powerful and overly-heady concoction that is pregnancy/spontaneous abortion hormones!  :(  I've read it can take as long as 4 weeks (and longer, heaven forbid), for the hormones to fully abate.  This still only amounts to a grand excuse because, let's face it, my body is subject to my Spirit whether I'm pregnant, going through spontaneous abortion, or otherwise.  I pray you also consider, though, that I am in my Spiritual childhood.  Perhaps, in some people's eyes I am an advanced young'un, but I'm about 8 years old now... ripe and ready for Baptism.  Not really...since I've already BEEN Baptized.  But I hope you get the comparison.  I sure am grateful to have been able to partake of the Sacrament yesterday....

Don't worry.  I'm all right.  God's Got It, doncha know!?  :)