I was beginning to really think long and hard about my life as a mother. I always pictured me with several children and here I was with one. One fantastic child but… one. I wasn’t ready to throw in the towel just yet on my dreams of a large family but I had to decide how we were going to get there. I looked at various sites about adoption and read message board experiences with adopting and was starting to think that was the direction to go. Then, I came across a site that really spoiled my attitude about that plan. I don’t mean to hurt anyone’s feelings that choose or have chosen adoption. These are just my thoughts.
I was learning that the wait for adopting a newborn would be as long as or longer than a pregnancy. Learning this made me eager to sign up right away so that I wouldn’t have to wait any longer than necessary to add to my family. Then, as I was surfing the net for agencies, attorneys I came across a page that listed babies that were available for adoption. Now. I read through the list that listed their info like male or female, open or closed adoption, locations, races, and if the birth mother was known to have used or is currently using drugs or alcohol. Then in the last column was the prices. All of the sudden it hit me. I was shopping online for a baby. Some were on sale (my words not theirs) due to maternal drug use, or other known or suspected medical issues. Some were more expensive because they were presumed to be healthy or the mother was expecting the adoptive parents to pay rent and or medical bills. I just couldn’t believe that I would ever be able to chose a baby based on price or race or whatever other criterion I found to be of importance. I wanted God to choose for me and I wasn’t sure how that would happen with adoption. I decided to table the adoption issue for a while until we got the results form our genetic testing back.
During the wait I did my share of “why me” questioning. I wanted to know what was wrong with me. Why did other women who weren’t married, on drugs, already proven to be horrible parents, etc. get pregnant, often without “trying”, and end up with a beautiful baby in their arms 9 months later? Here I was, a healthy, loving mother and wife who wanted nothing more than to conceive and keep a pregnancy that actually resulted in a live, screaming, crying baby. Then my husband said this. “Sometimes we have to realize that it isn’t always about us.”
At first I thought, “Are you kidding me? How is me miscarrying 6 times in a row not about us?!”
He went on to explain his thought. While I can’t recall his exact wording the message was this. God is the one calling the shots. His plan for us may not have anything to do with us ending up with a second child or not. It could have everything to do with how our experience will somehow effect someone else’s life.
I took that little nugget of thought with me as I went about my day to day activities. I really tried to focus more on how Doug’s comments could really be true. I was shopping at Walmart for odds and ends but the primary reason for my trip was that I wanted to buy ovulation tests. Since I was there I picked up some groceries that we needed too. As I walked down an isle glancing at various dinner options I happened to notice a woman a few paces ahead of me. I then saw that she had dropped her grocery list. While I was lost in my thoughts most of the day, I took a moment to pick up the list, speed up a step or two, and ask her if she dropped her list. She looked at me and then at the list. She quickly gave an exhale of relief and thanked me profusely. A few seconds of small talk and a couple more smiles and we were both on our ways. Then I thought about it. “Maybe it isn’t always about me.” I know that I will never know that woman’s story but I began to think about her. Perhaps, my interaction with her was just what she needed that day. Maybe she was depressed and feeling invisible. Maybe she wasn’t. Maybe there was something very important on that list that she would have forgotten had I not been there to pick it up and retrieve it. Maybe that one item being forgotten could have changed her life. I know it sounds crazy since there are a million and a half “what ifs” but I needed to do this. Maybe the item she forgot would have made her go back out to the store again later and she would have been killed in a car accident. So, maybe, just maybe, my going to Walmart to buy ovulation tests saved that woman’s life. If any of my pregnancies would have been successful I wouldn’t have needed those tests and that interaction never would have taken place.
It may sound ridiculous to some but this is how I managed to lift the haze of my recurrent miscarriages. As I moved throughout my daily life I challenged myself, and still do, to interact with as many people as I can since I don’t know who God intends me to meet or share my faith with. I find it to be really quite reassuring that my losses weren’t for nothing. They could very well be about me deciding to write about my experiences today to impact one of you.
While it is so very tempting to think that God had me miscarry to teach me something, tell me something, or lead me somewhere, I have chosen to see it as God needing me to help him do something. I may never know what that something is but, wow, what an important job I have. I am so blessed.
I am so thankful that Doug shared his thoughts with me that day. His comment has really changed how I view my life, my relationship with God, and my purpose here on Earth.