4 Pregnancies, 2 Births - 6

  I woke up the next morning.  Ned was a memory.  He was completely gone.

I'm a light sleeper.  The bathroom is inches from my bedroom.  Nobody flushes the toilet in the middle of night.

I think Jesus scooped Ned up for me.  He took him home.  And left me to heal.  To feel.  To believe in goodness and hurt and grace.  He left me with a hole in my heart, and said, "for me.  What will you do with this, for me?"

You see, God doesn't promise blissfulness. Or loveliness.  Perfectness.  Great life - if we choose to love him.  No, instead he promises to never leave our side.  To bring joy in the morning after a night of wretchedness.  Strength, when we feel we can't.  A second more.  And grace.  Oh, so much grace.

I hid from the world.  And told no one of my empty hole.  Business as usual, for what needed to be done.  Work, etc.

I have a vivid memory of being out in town with Queen Bee and Murnice.  We wanted to go to an upscaley boutique.  I needed to use the restroom, as I was still bleeding quite a bit.  My mental state was so raw.  And the horrific-ness of how I was treated because I needed to use the restroom would have brought poop-flies to a standstill.  The lady who brought me to the bathroom had to stand right outside the door.  And Murnice asks why there is blood.

That my dear, are the remnants of your brother, who is no longer.


I hid for months.  And stalked everybody on facebook in my darkened house.  Looking into their scar-free lives.  Feeling every moment.  Allowing every bit of mourning to surge through.  Allowing myself to feel what needed to be felt.  I did not give myself a timeline.  Or beat myself up for still feeling so sad, months beyond.  I just remember opening my heart, and wallowing.

....................................................................

The next couple of things that happened, I do not remember the order.  But in my mind, they happened close in time.

Up to this point, we had been trying to conceive for 3 years... . . . .

There was this guy at church, who for some reason was drawn to Big D and myself.  He always made a point to say hi - but it never went any farther than that.  We always thought it was a little strange, but there's nothing you can do about strange-ness.  One Sunday we must have looked exceptionally down, and it came out that we were struggling with infertility and losing babies.  And he looked at Murnice and said, "she's not your last one."  And then he ran away.

(update:   within the last year, we have started to build a relationship with him and his wife.  And that whole conversation came up.  He was horrified that that came slipping out of his mouth 4 years earlier.  I told him the power those words held.  So much hope.)

..........................................................

I was driving by myself one Sunday, praying my mamsy-pamsy prayer (I'll get to that later) and Jesus reached down into my car, slapped my little cheeks, and said, "Foxy, what do you want?"

HOT DAMN, I WANT A DADGUM, REAL-LIVING BABY, THAT I PUSHED OUT OF MY OWN ALREADY TRAIN-WRECKED VAGINA. THAT'S WHAT I WANT.

And that was the first time that I had ever uttered those words.  The first time that I was real with myself and with God.  Real, with not feeling unworthy of having a desire.  Real, with screaming from the rooftops what my selfish wants were. 

You see, for 3 years we prayed like this:  Dear Jesus,  we are so grateful for Murnice.  Healthy, wonderful Murnice.  But we would love to have another baby if it's your will.  Because we want your will.  And we recognize that you see all and know all, and maybe another baby just isn't in the cards for us.  And if that's the case, just give our hearts a peace and take away this desire for more babies.  Above all, we want what you want.

Which is fine and great.  But we were totally missing the point, that Jesus wants us to be real with him.  To share our desires, as silly or earthly or spiritual, he wants us to give him details.  Nitty-grits.  Just because he loves us that much.  He wants to shatter our earth-ridden minds with extravagance.  Just as any lover would desire to do.  He wants to know us intimately.  And intimacy comes with details.

So we changed our prayer.  We asked for a baby.  Send us a baby.  Not, "if it's your will".  Or, "if you deem it appropriate".  Just plain and simple, give. us. a. baby.

The end.