So, my day was a beast.
It started off with my visit to the hospital for a second scan. At this particular hospital, the staff in the EPAU are second to none. Seriously, they’re beyond amazing. However, walking past the sign on the wall that says “Maternity” in big bright happy shiny letters, is a bit of a gut wrencher. I wanted to be leaving that particular place with a scan photo, all excited about what was to come. Instead I heard that the miscarriage was finally complete.
Mixed feelings. Glad it’s over – devestated it’s over. Now my body has finally let go, my mind can begin to let go, which is good and healthy, but feels like mourning all over again after I’d finally got myself on a relatively even keel.
In some ways it isn’t quite over. The scan also identified some other problems. Nothing immediately life threatening, but they’ll take a while to fix. It also means that my chances of having another bubba are – well, reduced. By howm uch we don’t know right now, but with other chronic health issues, I’m not too thrilled by the idea. It’s hard to explain – I have very dear friends who’ve struggled with infertility for years, and part of me feels so selfish. But – well, in the depths of me, I am a mum. I love it and I’m good at it. I’m no less of a mum with one child than I am with 10, but I’ve always wanted a big family. And now that dream is looking somewhat broken, and it really hurts.
This was all followed by the news that no-one wants to hear – that someone very dear is much iller than first thought. And it’s a person I love dearly, but have a very complex relationship with, so my thoughts and feelings are all tangled up like spaghetti, and the unwinding is going to take far more time and energy than I can lay claim to.
Follow that up with a shift at work, which is essentially a very small, distilled microcosm of pure chaos, and you’ve got all the ingredients for a very stressed out Lizzi. And then I sit and look at my email and there’s an email requesting my views. It’s about violence against women from a faith based perspective and usually I’d be excited to read it, nd answer it but tonight I just. don’t. care.
I can’t give any answers. I don’t have any words. i can’t discourse knowledgably at the theological implications of gender based violence – actually, right now, I’m not even totally sure I know what one of those is. I can’t say wise things about God and suffering. I just don’t have any answers.
I do have a hope though. Having a bawl in the hospital chapel earlier, I came across this prayer –
“Heal me, hands of Jesus, and search out all my pain,
Restore my hope, remove my fear, and bring me peace again.
Cleanse me, blood of Jesus, take bitterness away,
Let me forgive as one forgiven, and bring me peace today”.
He can. He will.