“So this is your fifth pregnancy, right?” the doctor confirmed. Surprised by the high number, I recounted: 3 miscarriages, then Malachi, and now this one. Five pregnancies, in nearly five years of marriage. What a journey it has been. Impressive, really, after infertility consultations, various tests and medications, and countless doctor visits. Believe it or not, I consider my conception rate to be 100% of really trying, after discovering what my body needed. Should I be thankful for that? I’m not sure. I dare not say I miss the days of negative pregnancy tests and endless waiting. I guess it’s “better to have loved and lost”? My first baby in 2018 made me a mother, even though it wasn’t until Malachi that I got to fully realize that role. Being pregnant is the most amazing experience in the world, though for me it has always been coupled with fear. Fear, doubt, and the most praying I’ve ever done in my life.
But God didn’t answer my prayers.* He only reminded me that I am not in control of anything. I don’t understand how God works. I don’t have any encouragement for whoever’s reading this, except that I still believe God is good. I am broken, and this world is broken, and the time has not yet come for the world to be made new. God doesn’t promise His followers an easy life. He doesn’t fix all our problems, but He fixed my biggest problem by allowing me to approach Him by the blood of Jesus. So that’s what I do: I worship. The Lord gives, and the Lord takes away. Blessed be the name of the Lord.
Why did God put me through all this? Why would He give me those four sweet babies, only to take them away? I sure don’t know. I just hope and pray that I get to keep the next baby He might give me. I’ve tried to find the horrible balance between joy and detachment whenever I find out I’m pregnant (five times now, remember?). But then I decide to take it one day at a time and be thankful for the baby growing inside me that day. I guess that would be my encouragement to you, dear reader: be thankful for each day.
I am thankful for each day I had with each of my babies, and Malachi continues to delight me every day, every moment I get with him. He doesn’t understand yet, but we told him about each of his siblings:
Jedidiah – “loved by God” – because I didn’t get the chance to love him properly, but I believe he is cherished by our Heavenly Father.** Lost July 12, 2018.
Phoebe Linne – “radiant” – also named for her grandma, aunt, and cousin, who was due one day before her. Oh, that was hard. Why was it so hard to hear about Delhi making my mom a grandma, and not my babies? Lost November 17, 2018.
Isaac – “laughter” – because I tried a new medication and felt really good. I was optimistic that this pregnancy would be different. Lost January 21, 2019.
Elanor – “sun-star” – named for the same golden flower of Lothlórien as Samwise Gamgee’s daughter. The four of us finished reading The Return of the King for Malachi’s bedtime the night before we lost her, on May 22, 2021. Oh, Elanor, you would have loved having Malachi for a big brother. We just settled in to a new house in Cambodia and were excited to have you join us here. There are several baby girls in our neighborhood you would have been great friends with. We miss you, dear one.
* I actually wrote a paper on “The Purpose of Prayer” for seminary while I was pregnant with Malachi. It’s just a brief overview, but you’re welcome to read it here and continue the conversation. I’m still learning.