Time, Love and Tenderness

... a continuation of my miscarriage journey...


Michael Bolton once sang a song that included the lyrics: you think your world is over, baby, just remember this -- nothing heals a broken heart like time, love and tenderness. This post includes some deeply personal thoughts and beliefs that are sacred to me. I would not be honest if I didn't include them, but I ask that, if you read to the end, you will respect them as such.


Last Sunday, as I was preparing for and attending church, I did a few self checks: energy level? almost normal, pain? none, uterus? not quite normal, sex drive? none, emotions? focused in other directions (I have plenty to distract me right now), spirituality? in tune. Later, as I wrapped up yet another lesson on Temple Blessings and Eternal Families (during which I wanted to stand up and ask just how many women in the room were living in a life situation that fit the ideal because we have many divorced and single sisters in our group) and prepared to sing the closing hymn, I was completely unprepared for my very tender response to the words of the song:

God Be With You

1. 1. God be with you till we meet again;
   By his counsels guide, uphold you;
   With his sheep securely fold you.
   God be with you till we meet again.
2. (Chorus)
   Till we meet, till we meet,
   Till we meet at Jesus' feet,
   Till we meet, till we meet,
   God be with you till we meet again.
3. 2. God be with you till we meet again;
   When life's perils thick confound you,
   Put his arms unfailing round you.
   God be with you till we meet again.
4. 3. God be with you till we meet again;
   Keep love's banner floating o'er you;
   Smite death's threat'ning wave before you.
   God be with you till we meet again.

In all honesty, I was weeping so deeply before the chorus even began that by the third verse, I was praying the song would end soon -- uncertain of just how many verses there were or how many had been sung.

Very few of the women around me had (or have) any idea of the source of my sadness. In fact, so few people read this blog, it can be like writing a journal -- keeping a record just for me -- but, I knew I was safe, I knew I needed to allow myself the unexpected tears and depth of grieving I had obviously been pushing through, and well, if you can't weep in the middle of a church meeting, where can you do it? 

My thoughts about this little one are something that I'm not sure anyone else would understand. I believe in the eternal nature of life, in an individual and progressive way. Having felt the spirits of my children embraced in the warmth of my womb -- separate, unique, and so very close to me -- I feel strongly about the divinity of each person that lives here, the ones who have passed, and the ones who have not yet come.

There are promises given to those who are sealed together in matrimony by the Holy Spirit of Promise. I do not enjoy these blessings or promises within my own marriage by my own choice. Neither of us were members of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints when we married and, consequently, could not enter the House of the Lord. I have since made other choices that feel more like myself -- how thankful I am for the gift of the Atonement! -- including baptism and becoming worthy to hold a temple recommend, but my husband hasn't followed. So, even though I know that God the Father holds us all in His hands, I also have no assurances at this moment. I have nothing to tell me if this spirit will be able to try again for a body, if that attempt will be with me, if the amount of growing it did was enough for its progression to the next step, or if things will work out in a way that I will have the opportunity to raise him or her on the other side of the veil...my sister tells me she had a dream where Jesus came and lifted her little one from her arms before she went in to surgery and that this is the only reason she felt calm about her own miscarriage. (Naming and keeping dates within our family records of stillborn and miscarried births is something we're counseled to do.)

As I said, I have no assurances of this kind for me. Acceptance and trust are something I choose. I served in the temple yesterday and felt joy -- a rare emotion in the midst of so much turmoil (this little one is not the only loss I am facing) and I am thankful for it as much as I was for the tears breaking free so easily.

On a physical note: I ovulated this week. I am feeling it for days when it happens. Several months ago, I told myself this was the progression of age. Now, I wonder if there is actually a space between the clips and the ova is finding its way through it. (It is amazing to me that the smallest things internally can cause such pain.) My well-meaning sister said (very lovingly), "You're doing something to prevent that right? I mean, you made the decision to have your tubes tied for a reason." Yes, she actually said that -- see note on sex drive.

In addition to letting each other grieve (when we can't actually find the empathy within ourselves to mourn with someone in mourning), I've decided that no one should ever ask questions about your fertility and/or family plan and/or lack thereof. For everyone that ever went through the heartache of infertility, miscarriage, misconception, or even the joy of adding "another one" beyond what someone else believes is the "right" number...please, hold your tongue. If you are the one being asked, I promise you have every right to say "That is not your business."

Meanwhile, do not fear tenderness. This may be the first time in my life when I am not fighting against the grieving. Oh, there is plenty to do that distracts me from it a few hours or days at a time, but embracing the sad, angry, numb, etc. of exactly the moment I am in is a great gift. I have yoga practice to thank for that capacity.

LDS Women's Conference Spring 2014

On Saturday, I had the pleasure of tucking myself away in the basement of my sister-in-law's home and watch the LDS Women's Conference streamed live to my brother-in-law's iPad. We were visiting to celebrate the birth of their firstborn -- a son. There were so many family members caught up in the excitement, I didn't want to interrupt. But, oh, how glad I am that I took the time!


One of the special things about this conference was the opening of the meeting to women and girls all the way down the age of 8 years old. For the past few years, there has been some concern that young women transitioning from their YW groups at the age of 18 don't feel like they quite fit the Relief Society mold and extend that perception to a lack of participation within the organization. I am delighted that this "Molly Mormon" mold (that never truly existed in the first place) was broken this evening. "We all need each other" was an overarching theme of the meeting. "Help Wanted" was the call to serve with what we have, wherever we are at, and without unnecessary and ungraceful comparisons to one another.


One sister used the primary song "Teach Me to Walk in the Light" as a theme for her talk. She asked the girls aged 8-11 who were present in the Conference Center to stand and sing the first verse of the song. How their sweet, fearless voices rose up and filled the hall! She then had the rest of the sisters sing the second verse in answer to the plea:


Verse 1
Teach me to walk in the light of his love.
Teach me to pray to my Father above.
Teach me to know all the things that are right.
Teach me, teach me to walk in the light.


Verse 2
Come little child and together we'll learn
of His commandments that we may return
home to His presence to live in His sight
Always, always to walk in the light.


As a woman, this interconnectedness is something I've always understood. I learn so much from my children, my sisters, my neighbors, my friends, my husband, my coworkers, and even strangers who only touch my sphere of influence for a moment. The human family is complex, diverse, and full of wonderful opportunities for growth and connection -- even though we, so often, feel alone, separated, and impossibly different. I'm thankful this idea is being extended so visibly at this time to inspire us to remember that our covenant is not only to the Lord, but is to lifting each other as well.


In addition to the Relief Society General Presidency sharing messages about covenants, service, and extending grace to ourselves and to others, President Henry B. Eyring reminded women that from the beginning -- starting with Eve, the Mother of all Living -- there have been courageous, intelligent women who lead their families and communities in following the Lord by doing so themselves and standing as witness of God at all times, in all things, and in all places.


I was personally touched by the story he shared about his mother preparing him to make covenants by imparting of her faith and expounding scriptures to him from the time he was a little boy.The same scripture (D&C 68:25) that had inspired Pres. Eyring's mother, motivated my own mother to send us to church (even though she wasn't a member) so we would grow up in the gospel. I still recall visiting with a sister who lived in Bonney Lake, Washington so many years ago who justified her lack of scripture study with the scripture (Ecclesiastes 3:1) "to every thing there is a season and a time to every purpose under heaven." I felt deeply sad for the lack of scripture power she would likely face in her life and how it might affect her children that she would not have specific scriptures in mind to help them through trials and challenges as they came.


I am thankful for the women in the world who believe their lives have value and purpose -- thankful to be educated and to have others who dig in, research, discover, serve, and apply what they know because they are dissatisfied with sitting back and passively being fed. I am also deeply grateful for a moment of stillness yesterday evening when my heart and mind were wide open, ready to receive, and that I found myself so completely filled.


If you haven't had a chance to watch this session of the conference, I invite you to do so.