Leave it to me to quietly manage a miscarriage while hosting a Thanksgiving Dinner Party for 12…
I am superwoman (or so I thought).
I can manage anything (I foolishly believed).
I am in control (I never was).
This is a lesson in surrender and in faith. This is the path from I to I AM. <<Click to Tweet
I married my high school sweetheart and one true love. We didn’t take a direct path to the altar. We celebrated the sacrament of marriage just ahead of the 14th anniversary of the day we met. We take our time.
By the time my beloved and I wed, everyone expected children. I remember acknowledging our one-month anniversary as we signed consent forms to remove massive uterine fibroids diagnosed weeks prior.
We wondered if we'd ever be able to conceive and carry normally.
About three-and-a-half years into our marriage, we got pregnant. On that Thanksgiving Day I was the perfectly composed hostess, the quintessential get-it-done girl, I said nothing until all the guests departed. My husband discovered me quietly sobbing on the bathroom floor, asking him to call the OB. As we awaited a return call, I remember articulating to my beloved that through sheer force of my will, I would not lose this pregnancy!
You see, I relied upon the fallacy that I was superwoman (so clearly wrong). I convinced myself that I could manage anything. I foolishly believed that I was in control.
God had other plans.
We lost the baby. I remember bitter disappointment and the feeling that I had failed. Had I been stronger, wiser, better, perhaps things would have turned out differently. I struggled with anger for months, seeing young single mothers holding beautiful babies as my arms hung limp at my sides.
I questioned His Plans. I doubted His Promises. I needed to know why.
Through study and through prayer, we began to heal. I embraced the wonder of conception, the marvel of pregnancy, the miracle of birth. They had naught to do with my will, my desire, or any illusion of my control. When we conceived again, I was dumbfounded by the manifestation of creation, that God would show me in love that my will was irrelevant.
This was my lesson in surrender and in faith. This was my journey from I to I AM.
My miscarriage and subsequent conception and pregnancy were all about submission, solely about God. I recognized that sustaining this second pregnancy, delivering that child would be a blessing. It was one of the happiest and most peaceful times in my life. I was released from so many of the pressures that accompanied my composed, get-it-done girl persona. Those were burdens I happily laid down.
So what if I threw up daily (at least the first 13 weeks). I faithfully boarded trains and ferries to work for 38 weeks, navigating mass transit so very grateful for our blessing. Mine was a stellar confinement.
I only labored from Wednesday until Sunday morning. I was surrendered. I was joyful. I was content. When our daughter was born, we named her Adia, which in the Southeast African language of Kiswahili means "gift from God."
My journey to motherhood began at surrender and left me with a deeper faith. That was my path from I to I AM.
How about you? Did you have to surrender in order to have deeper faith? What has led you from I to I AM?
Chelle blogs at Treat Me to a Feast about her life lived forward, reviewed backward, through the lens of faith. She’s a PK (Pastor’s Kid), who’s been a Baptist church musician since she was five. Always a dancer and athlete, as an adult she turned to liturgical dance to deepen her personal worship. It worked. Rochelle laughs a lot, is married to her first love and prom date nearly 20 years ago. Together God gave them two children and a boxer who is the other love of her life, confidante, therapist, and physical trainer.