The Storm

Having spent a few summers in Colorado, I have come to love storms. Many summer nights would find us sitting out on the porch overlooking Denver and watching the dark clouds in the night sky be lit up with lightning as the rain cleansed all the dust from the sky. I loved those nights. Storms excite and mystify me. They are things that are feared, but at the same time are beautiful and even peaceful.
That is why there was a storm last night.
Not knowing how I was supposed to have peace in a sleepless night, the Lord gave me a lightning storm. I don’t think anything else would have helped—not words, not a calm summer night. Magically, a thunderstorm helped. It gave me peace to know the Lord was aware of my feelings and needs.

Some of you may not have even known I was pregnant—we had just started telling people. I thank you for the love and congrats. It was a wonderful week. Showing Danny the positive pregnancy test was one of the happiest moments in my life that I plan on repeating multiple times. After convincing him that I didn’t fake it—that it was real, the look on his face was better than when he first got to fly a plane. It was joy. He is so excited to be a father. That night Danny and I sat in bed and joked about names and future plans—I wasn’t even disappointed that we were going to have to postpone our Disneyland trip. More than anything else this is what we wanted. It was fun to hear the genuine surprise, the laughter, and the joking from all our parents and the excitement of being grandparents.
It was a whirlwind week, letting the cat out of the bag here and there when it felt right. Too many things got put aside…we were too excited to care about dishes and cleaning up cat fur. I started having a little stomach pain—but just attributed it to “growing something inside you” pain. Apparently I should have been more concerned—not that it would have helped.
Friday I went to work and after a quick bathroom break before the lunch rush, I found that I was bleeding. I called Danny immediately. He made a few calls and informed me that if I was just spotting I was not to worry, but should probably go home and take it easy, if it was more—then I needed to go to the ER. Now, having never been pregnant before—I wasn’t sure what spotting exactly meant. I said something about “women’s issues” to my male boss and he waved his hands for me to say no more—and I drove the 20 minutes home. I bought another pregnancy test on the way and as soon as I got home I took it. Positive. I wasn’t making things up. I was pretty sure at that point that my bleeding was more than spotting. I drove to the Hospital and met Danny there. We talked for a minute and decided that I should go in. Unfortunately, since it was the day before a holiday—everything was closed or re-routed. We first were sent to the labor and delivery—who couldn’t help us. She wheeled me down to the ER. There I was put in a room—they took large amounts of blood and pumped me full of fluid. After about an hour and a half I was wheeled off to have an ultra sound. Funny how this was a routine to me because of all my past…issues. The nurses would being something up and begin to describe it and I would reassure them that I have had that before, or that I knew what that meant. I even knew not to ask the radiologist anything—they never even blink information. Danny mentioned that the radiologist talked very quietly on the phone. I heard every word because I knew that was the only information I was getting from him.
Another hour later, Dr. Hooker came back into the room and told us the news. My hormone level showed that I had indeed been pregnant, but that I had miscarried. At this point he started explaining the statistics on how one in every 5 pregnancies…blah blah blah. I always did hate statistics. None of those mattered to me. This was me. This was my pregnancy. And now it’s not.
Danny and I came home and took a nap. Of course I cried.
I knew I wouldn’t sleep. My body hurt, but I also had too much on my mind. Don’t worry—I don’t blame myself. I know there is nothing I could have done—but in the moment none of that matters. It still hurts.
I thought about this primary song. It was always one of my favorites:

Whenever I hear the song of a bird
Or look at the blue, blue sky,
Whenever I feel the rain on my face
Or the wind as it rushes by,
Whenever I touch a velvet rose
Or walk by our lilac tree
I’m glad that I live in this beautiful world
Heavenly Father created for me.

He gave me my eyes that I might see
The color of butterfly wings.
He gave me my ears that I might hear
The magical sound of things.
He gave me my life, my mind, my heart:
I thank him reverently
For all his creations, of which I’m a part.
Yes, I know Heavenly Father loves me.

I do know my Heavenly Father loves me. He gave me the rain. My body is being cleansed just as the rain cleaned His earth. I felt that He was expressing to me that He understood what I was going through. Just as the sun is sparkling off the leftover rain and the birds are singing in the new day, this pain too will pass and I will have another chance—because the Lord has promised me with His new day.