I’m glad I waited a long time to tell you all how things have been going. Things were so exciting and encouraging that I just had to wait to see if it was real. Like I said, I’m glad I waited. I made a decision to be faithful, to persevere on a path that I believed was Right. Though I didn’t truly want it, though I felt my options were limited, I took a path. And I saw what I thought were the signs that I had chosen correctly. But here I am.
And I have to tell you, I’m quite angry. It’s always at this point that people say things like “who are we to question God?” and “all things work together for good.” And to be honest, I just want to punch them in the face. But I don’t, because I know that’s what they need to prop themselves up and make themselves feel better. That’s fine. but this is my tragedy. I get to decide how I feel about it. And I’m quite angry. I didn’t ask to be born. I didn’t ask for anything. And I feel I have a right to question God. God has put me here without my consent or request, for what reason I don’t really know. To me that means that I have a right to expect some things of God. If God is a Father, don’t I have a right to expect that God would be there for me in hard times. Before you tell me God is, don’t. I have never experienced a relationship with God in my tragedy. My sister-in-law speaks of God whispering to her, a completely foreign and slightly fruity concept to me, when she was in crisis. I’ve never had that. And before you tell me that I have to ask to receive, save it. If you’ve been around for any time at all you know, I am nothing if not an asker.
I did everything right. I did. I chose to be faithful. I held it up. I didn’t doubt it. I gave it my all. I was thankful for each and every blessing-two promotions, two brand new cars, one long awaited pregnancy, and many other things. I gave credit where I believed credit was due. The timing falling together so perfectly with my decisions. I thought there was no denying it. I was being rewarded for doing what was right. I thought it was me who was holding us back from so many blessings. I begged forgiveness for that.
On Thursday night, I lost my baby. We were just out of the woods. Just over 12 weeks. Just about to tell our friends.
My family tells me that it wasn’t time. If there is a time that’s meant to be, then that was it because it happened. They tell me that I should be grateful for the time I had. What time. They tell me that I’m fine and I’ll have more kids. Other kids will never take this child’s place. Don’t even mention Satan, God is his creator. And even though Job was rewarded, more children can never replace the ones you’ve lost. They tell me that all things work together for good to them that love God. Do they? Is this good?
I did everything right. And what was the point? I beg you to tell me what was the point in that?