Finding Triumph in the Midst of Tragedy: Missy’s Story

Guest Post by Missy of Homeschooling Jungle

When my husband and I got married in early 2005, we knew that we wanted to start a family. We also knew that it would take a small act of God for it to happen. After seeing a doctor, I was diagnosed with PCOS, or polycystic ovarian syndrome. Eight months later (and 1 out of state move, 1 six month deployment, and 3 new doctors), I was finally under the care and treatment of an infertility doctor.

 

It took a year to get pregnant, only to lose that baby. Chances are her/his heart never started beating. After that it took another 2 rounds and about 6 more months to get preganant again. At first, I was so nervous that I would loose this baby as well. After 12 weeks I was assured that baby had a 90% chance of making it to birth. I began to relax a little but was still terribly worried that something might happen. After 20 weeks, the percentage rose again to 95%, which helped calm my nerves. Once I made it past 38 weeks, I began to get excited and at 40 weeks, the anxiety starting creeping back in.

 

At my 40 week appointment I found out that after moving and changing doctors at 25 weeks they had decided that I was not as far along as I was told and had changed my due date. For this reason, they were not going to induce me for another week and a half. I was furious and let them know that I was going to be induced by the 28^th of February. Not only was I anxious about still being pregnant but hubby was scheduled to deploy yet again only two weeks later. After a lot of tense conversation with the midwife, she agreed to schedule an induction but I was told that I still would have to call that night to find out if I could go in. That morning I spent at the hospital getting an NST, non-stress test, and an ultrasound done to check that the baby was still doing fine. Despite the NST tech having to buzz baby about every 5 minutes she decided that everything was fine and sent me on my way. The ultrasound tech also reported everything to be fine even though he noticed that the cord was around baby’s neck. We were told it was normal and they see it all the time.

 

That night I called and was told they didn’t have enough room for me, so we went to eat. While we were eating, I was having contractions. I also noticed the baby wasn’t moving around, but forced myself to decide that it was only because I was contracting.

 

The next morning I was told to call and find out if I could go in…and then told to call back again at 4pm. About 2pm that day I realized I had not felt baby move at all that day. I called and told them and was told to come in. I knew when we got there that something was wrong. When the doctor came in with the ultrasound machine and we couldn’t see any movement I knew what was going on. The doctor turned and looked at me and just flatly said that the baby had died. He did not say sorry, he did not look like it even mattered to him. The words rang in my head like a clanging gong.

 

I very quickly got angry, angry at the midwives for not listening to me, at the staff for not allowing me to come in the night before, at myself for not listening to my instincts. It wasn’t until I got home and everyone left that I began to question God. I was angry at him for allowing this to happen. Hubby was quick to tell me that it was Satan that took our precious baby. To this statement I rebuked with “Satan doesn’t have any power that God doesn’t ALLOW him to have, thus God ALLOWED this to happen.” To that my husband had no reply.

 

I remember one night laying on the couch, looking at all my crosses and feeling like tearing them off the wall and smashing each and everyone of them to little bitty pieces. After all that, is what God had allowed to happen to my heart and my spirit right?

 

My husband went on his deployment and I was staying with my parents(we didn’t feel it was a good idea for me to stay alone in a state where I had no support system), when I really began to think things through. The one statemnet that kept coming back to me came from someone who is now a VERY good friend of mine. She told me that she didn’t know why this had happened and had searched everything she knew about God. The one thing that kept getting her is that the Bible says that for everything there is a reason and everything happens for a GOOD reason. So maybe God allowed him to be taken from us to shelter us from a far greater pain.

 

As I let that soak into my head I began thinking, maybe, just maybe God plans to use me and my experience for His good. Whatever the case, I decided from then on that I was going to make something good out of what had happened. (I have yet to find a way to do that, but still have determined to do it.)

 

After 6 months, I moved back with hubby, into a new place and we began putting our lives back together. Within two months of being together I found out I was pregnant yet again, only to lose another baby at 8 weeks. Then one year after we lost Angel boy, I found out I was pregnant with Monkey. I literally found out Monkey was there the week of Angel boy’s birthday.

 

After a very long, very stressful pregnancy with MUCH medical surveillance, I was hospitalized at 36 weeks with preeclampsia and was told the following week I would be induced. This came as a great relief to me as it insured that I was already in the hospital and they would not be able to tell me that I could not be induced the day I had been given. It also allowed me and the staff to keep a watchful eye on Monkey’s heartbeat.

 

When the day finally came, I constantly asked how Monkey’s heartbeat was. Making sure to notice anything unusual. I didn’t want to go through all that again. 22 hours after the beginning of the induction process, Monkey was out and very alert. Although it did take a little coaxing to get him to cry. At that moment, everything was right in the world again.

 

Does Monkey take his brother’s place in my heart? Absolutely not! Is the pain gone? NO! But having Monkey has allowed me to focus my attention to doing all the things I could not do with Angel boy. Monkey does however, fill the void that was in my soul. While things are not perfect, monkey is our rainbow baby. God has blessed me! I pray that this story will be a blessing to someone else.

 

One thing I forgot to mention, is that God used many ways to talk to me through my pain. He used friends, the bible, stories that I saw on television,and read in books, aswell as songs I heard on the radio. One song in particular REALLY helped me through those times when I felt as though I could no longer trust in God, Casting Crowns’ “Praise You in the Storm.” It reminded me that God is in charge and knows things that we do not. Monkey was the rainbow after the storm.

 

Please feel free to contact me if I can pray for you, or if you have any questions or even if you  would like to see the video that I created in honor of Angel boy. You can find me at  http://homeschoolingjungle.blogspot.com.