Christmas Eve, I had a miscarriage.
Roy and I were looking forward to having another baby, and we were excited to find out in November that I was expecting. For a month, I bubbled with inward glee that it was perfect timing, since I wanted Micah and the younger one to be 2 years apart. A few of my close friends were also due around that time, so I was imagining play dates at the zoo and shared moments of maternal musings.
But Christmas Eve, the doctor confirmed that I had a miscarriage. I was devastated. Even though it was only the first trimester (1 in 4 pregnancies terminate in the first trimester, the doctor told me tritely), I had grown fond of my unborn child and already had a bub name picked out for her (I was convinced it was a girl). I had so many plans and expectations for 2015.
Thankfully, my family visited over the Christmas holidays, so in our travels to Sydney, Ballarat, and the Great Ocean Road, I didn’t have a chance to dwell on my disappointments. But when they left and month after month I wasn’t pregnant, I had many serious conversations with God.
“God, You gave us Micah at the perfect time, so I know You know best. But…. But Lord, I really want another baby… I really want to have another baby soon. I trust You, but … it’s still hard.”
The prayers helped, and I came to accept that the Life-Giver had me in His hands.
A week ago, when I suddenly collapsed in pain, unable to breathe, I knew something was seriously wrong. We ended up at the hospital the next day, and to our utter amazement heard the doctor say, “You have gallstones lodged in your bile duct, causing inflammation of your liver. Let’s do the surgery tomorrow.”
As they were wheeling me to the theatre, and the ceiling panels were passing by, I kept thinking, “I’m so glad I’m not pregnant…. I’m so glad I have medicare… I’m so glad I came to the hospital.” Five hours later, I woke up groggy and in pain, but still grateful that the surgery had gone well.
I don’t believe God caused my miscarriage. Pain and death are the results of living in a sinful world. But I do believe God heard my prayer for His will to be done in my life, and that He did not give me a baby while my body was not ready to host another living being. I also believe that this surgery is a gift, an opportunity to slow down and do what I’ve wanted to do for months – read the books piled next to the bed, do my US taxes, have longer FaceTime with my family, and catch the rhythm of grace – that breath in of God’s promises, that breath out of praise:
In His time, In His Time
He makes all things beautiful in His time.
Lord please show me every day
As You’re teaching me Your way
That You do just what You say
In Your time.
In Your time, In Your Time
You make all things beautiful in Your time.
Lord my life to You I bring
May each song I have to sing
Be to you a lovely thing
In Your time.
– Diane Ball
He makes all things beautiful in His time. He makes all things beautiful in His hands.
by: Jinha Kim
"But those who drink the water I give them will never thirst. Indeed, the water I give them will become in them a spring of water welling up to eternal life." John 4:14