Bittersweet Mothers Day

May I be honest, friends?  I don't say much about my personal life on this blog.  There's a good reason for it.  Mostly, I want to keep my private life private.  It's for the special few who earn the right to know about my deepest hurts, fears, and desires because I know they will take special care of those things.  But I've been thinking a lot over the past few months about whether or not to share this one really important thing with all of you. I've decided to share because it's an opportunity for me to process how I feel at this time and because I hope it will bless somebody.

This Mothers Day is hard for me.  You see, this was supposed to be my very first Mothers Day as a mother.  I had the privilege of growing a baby inside of me for just a few weeks last summer.  The day I found out I was pregnant was literally the most joyous day of my life.  I can't ever remember feeling so happy.  It had been four years that my husband and I had been hoping for a baby, and all our heartache was over.  Everyone around us was completely ecstatic, too.  They all knew what a struggle we'd been through.  For the next few weeks we totally embraced parenthood.  We prayed and made plans and talked about names.  We just knew this was our promised child.

Well, things didn't turn out as we'd hoped and after just 8 weeks of pregnancy, we learned that the pregnancy was ectopic (tubal) and was not going to survive.  Needless to say, we were absolutely devastated.  I won't go over every detail.  Just know that it's the details of that time that bring the most pain.

Many days after were extremely difficult.  It was probably more than four or five months before I could go even a day without thinking about it.  There have been some days that were especially hard.

Christmas was tough for many reasons last year, but not the least of which was the fact that I'd expected to be very pregnant at that point.
 My due date came and went.  No baby.
Now Mothers Day is here and I'm incredibly aware that I am surrounded by mothers.  Good mothers too.  Mothers who I love and whose children I love.  But it's all bittersweet.

I don't know why my baby died.  I don't know why, of all my married friends, I'm the last one left without a child here on earth.  But here's what I do know:

- I do have a baby and he is waiting for me in Heaven.  I so look forward to meeting him.

- I am a mother.  Even before I was pregnant, God had created a mother's heart in me.  I was created to nurture life, and I believe I do that in many areas of my day-to-day.

- I will have children here on earth.  Through intimate moments with God, miraculous dreams of those close to me, and God's Word, I've become absolutely certain God will bless us with children.
- I have an beautiful mother who I'm so, so thankful for.  Today, more than my sorrow, I am joyful because I have her.

Thank you for allowing me to share and thank you for taking care with my heart.  I look forward to the day I can write here to announce the arrival of a precious, new baby.