In which I plant seeds

Thank you for your patience in light of my recent absence. I had to take some time off as I was struggling with personal matters, and needed to prioritize what to spend my energy on.

 As the spring weather warmed and beckoned plants to cast forth new growth, I eagerly awaited the sprouting and blooming of the bulbs I planted on my baby’s grave, back in November. They began to grow. I would visit periodically, excited to see the growth and envisioning how they would bring beauty to this sad little spot.

Then, one day, they were gone. Dug up by some animal. This was a devastating blow for me. I felt robbed again of the thing I had looked forward to and anticipated. It was like some cruel reminder that everything went wrong with my last pregnancy, to the point that even my long-anticipated flowers, planted for my consolation and the beautification of his grave, were stolen. That was a few weeks ago.

I also have yet to conceive, despite finally having regular cycles and frequently praying for another baby to be added to our family. Getting another negative right before Easter, right after the flowers were stolen, just added to my inner turmoil. Honey Badger and I fought a lot. I felt like I just couldn’t think straight or do anything right.

The legislative bill and amendments to make it legal for Nebraska women to hire a midwife didn’t pass, which was crushing, as I was really invested in it. The senator said he wouldn’t bring it back up in the next session, but there’s talk that it may return. There’s a lot of uncertainty, but since the session didn’t go how we all hoped, there’s been a stronger push to get more senators on our side, as well as getting media coverage. There’s still time, but yes, it’s still disappointing how it turned out. There’s no guarantee that we’ll have the outcome we hope for the next time around.

Then, a week after the news about the legislative bill, I got the flu, which was rough. (I mean, the flu in May??? Come on!) I’m well now, but it was difficult going. When I wanted to be snuggled up in my bed, sleeping or reading a book, I had to chase my toddler out of the fridge or wipe another poopy butt.

But in the midst of all the chaos and sadness and fighting, there were beautiful moments. Moments I wanted to capture forever. When I was sick, muscles aching, head pulsating, feverish and sleepy, and caring for my son, Little Lion kindly let me rest in bed. He even came and turned the music on his rocking chair, so I could listen to some music while I rested.

Honey Badger spent hours and hours that weekend getting Little Lion to sleep, taking him back to bed when he woke up, and just letting me sleep. It was amazing. I’m not sure the last time I consistently slept so many hours consecutively. Quiet moments that reminded me of how much my family loves me, and how grateful I am for them.

May 5^th  was the expected day for our baby to be born. I planted echinacea flowers on his grave, thanks to the generosity of Mountain Rose Herbs. I was looking everywhere to find wildflowers at home, not feeling well enough to take myself on a drive. And then, I randomly found the free packet they sent with my last tea order. The tea I had ordered when I was still pregnant. It felt like a very full circle moment.

I sat by his grave and scattered the seeds. I prayed. I talked to him. I released him, feeling that I had given him the fullness of the time he should have had, before being borne into my arms. I know he’s not there. I know he’s dancing in glorious light with our Creator. But it still comforts me to speak as if he could hear me.

It comforts me to sit beneath his tree and watch the lapping of the lake. To feel the breeze and hear the leaves rustle. To be quiet together. I miss him. Countless times over the last six months, I have wished that he was still in my womb. I wonder all the time if things could have turned out differently if I’d prayed more or gone to the ER or done something different. I’ll never know.

It’s an extremely difficult and painful thing to surrender to the Creator, trusting His plan and that His intentions are good. It’s also unfair to assign the wickedness and brokenness of our world to His actions, when He gave us everything that is good and perfect, and made a plan to rescue and heal us knowing full well that things would be messed up at the beginning. Everything will be made new, and every tear will be wiped away. Our broken hearts will be mended. And best of all, I’ll one day hold all of my babies in my arms, in a glorious, perfect, renewed world.

That’s one of the comforting truths that I learned this last semester at Bible Study Fellowship. Today was our last day, and since we’ve wrapped up our study on Revelations, we all shared what we had learned this last year. The theme of our study on Revelations was “hope.” The first time I read Revelations, I did not get that. I was seven or eight, and all that I saw was the scary stuff, monsters, and horrors.

I reread it again a week ago, and this time, I saw the glory, the magnificence, and the victory of our King. I saw the hope for the future. That all the wickedness, sickness, brokenness, it will all be cast away and instead, we would live in a world that was illuminated by the Creator, with direct access to the tree and river of life. It’s hard to fully grasp, especially when it’s so easy to get sucked into the details and worries of this life.

Last year saw a lot of sorry and grief, but as this season of my life comes to a close, I’m looking ahead to the future with brighter eyes and more hope. I’m still learning to bring my cares to the Creator and trust His plan. I’m still learning to get along nicely with Honey Badger and not react in anger before fully understanding the situation. I’m still learning to go to bed early enough to sleep enough.

But I’m enjoying more and more time outside in the beauty of nature. The wonderful thing about nature is that if you let it, it will always point you back to the Creator and fill you with wonder.

As the days fill with more sunshine, full to the brim, I’m also finding myself filled with light. I hope you are too.

Sierra