Sometimes...

Last night my son said something that pierced me right through the heart.

When my husband and I got married, one of our many topics of conversation included how many kids we wanted. We always thought 3 or 4 would suit us just fine. But, like so many things in life, things don't always go the way you've got planned. As I've mentioned before, pregnancy and I do not get along... to the tune of 5 miscarriages. And I'm suspicious it might even be 7. We never got a real explanation as to why, except that my body doesn't produce enough of the hormone needed to sustain a pregnancy. I'm good at getting pregnant; just a slacker when it comes to staying pregnant.

Anyway, we're absolutely thrilled and blessed to have the two children we have. It did, however, take me a long time to accept the fact that two was our number. But I got over it, made my peace with it, and we're in a really good place now. We're past all the baby stuff, we're not as tied down, we go on great family trips; and I can run errands with nothing but my cell phone and my wallet (and my chapstick, of course).

However, no matter how far you think you might be past something, the littlest of things can still hurt. Last night my son said that when he grows up and has kids, they're not going to have an uncle, and that made him sad. Which made me sad. It's not true, of course. His sister's husband will be their uncle, and he better be the best uncle on the whole damn planet. Also, I'm a solid believer in the whole eternal life concept, so I'm gonna be busy raising 5-7 kids in the afterlife. Does that sound like heaven to you?

But I digress. I was surprised at how sad that little statement made me. I had to go away and cry for a few minutes. I woke up with a sigh this morning. I realized that the pain and disappointment of miscarriage will never ever fully go away. But that's okay. I've got something to look forward to later on. And the happiness will be exquisite.

I write this not for sympathy. I've had plenty of that. I write this for two reasons: 1. Sometimes it helps to write through the pain. 2. If you know of anyone who has had a miscarriage, send them this way. No one understands like someone who's been through it.

What it comes down to is this: miscarriage sucks. Of the many injustices in life, this is one of the biggest. How the most irresponsible, drug-abusing, child-abusing people can have baby after baby (I've taught some of them) and other people can't, is something beyond explanation to me. It stinks to say good-bye to someone you've never even met. Sometimes you don't even get to say good-bye. You wake up from surgery, are given a pain pill, and get sent on your merry way. You have to mourn and grieve without closure. But there's still hope. Life goes on. You can be happy. God will work it out in the end.

You might feel the sad from time to time, but that just makes you appreciate the happy even more.