Lost. Or not.

I was listening to the radio yesterday.  Talk radio.  Christian talk radio.  Yeah, yeah.  I learned the hard way that CD players don’t exactly play quarters.  Also that toddlers cry- a lot- when they realize their quarter does NOT come back out when you hit the eject button.  Anyway, I enjoy the morning and afternoon programming on this station, but from 9-2 it is all talk.  Some of it is all fire and brimstone, but honestly?  I am usually too lazy to bother changing the station, knowing that in a few hours it will be back to the music I like.

Occasionally, like yesterday, I hear something that really speaks to me. I don’t even know what most of the sermon playing yesterday was about.  I was probably on the phone.  The end of it though, caught my attention.  I had probably ended my phone call. I heard the dude (preacher, pastor, pope?  I don’t know LOL) telling a story about a woman that was on the phone with a friend discussing her recent miscarriage.  She hung up the phone and her little girl asked her, “Mommy, can something be lost if you know where it is?”  Of course the mom said no, if you know where something is, it cannot be lost.  The lump started forming in my throat and the tears started welling in my eyes before they could even finish.  “Well Mommy, how can we say our baby is lost?  Our baby is with God.  That isn’t lost.  We know where the baby is, safe and happy with God.”

First, I want to say that to me this was so different from all of the well-meaning, yet I am guessing numbing/infuriating/confusing/*insert emotion* clichés that are so often thrown out there in an attempt to ease the pain.  I hope it is for you as well.  I would not have shared this little story otherwise.  It just never ceases to blow me away how the simple innocence of a child can be so incredibly profound.

Now, I have been incredibly blessed with 3 healthy pregnancies and 3 healthy babies.  I cannot begin to imagine the heartache and heartbreak that accompany infertility or pregnancy or infant loss.  Yet it has become something so close to my heart.  It touches the depths of my soul in ways I can’t really even describe.  I have sat and watched and cried as friend after friend, woman after woman and family after family has had to endure the grief of precious lives ended often before a breath was taken.  So many.  I don’t think I could have ever imagined the magnitude- the sheer number- of losses endured.  That doesn’t even touch the depth of the pain and grief from the losses.

I think it is feeling completely and utterly helpless and useless to my friends’ suffering in combination with the immense feeling of blessing and gratitude for the children I have that has our family considering surrogacy.  I know the depths of joy and love that come with children.  I cannot imagine my life without my children.  I also know that it would be an incredible opportunity to teach those babies I love so very much about giving.  Giving of yourself, giving of your heart.  Anyway, this isn’t some big announcement.  Many of you know this is something that has been on my heart for many years.  No plans right now.  All in God’s time.

Back to the original topic…to each and every woman out there (and man beside her) that has struggled with infertility, with miscarriage, with infant loss… I am sorry.  I am so sorry for your pain, your suffering.  I really don’t think words can express adequately my empathy.  I have prayed for you, for your baby (or babies).  I have prayed for your comfort and your peace.  Now, I pray that the words of that little girl will touch you as they did me, and provide you a bit of peace and perhaps a smile.

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