Strength in the Struggle

Can I be totally honest with you guys? God has been stirring some things up in my heart about my testimony that I’ve felt lead to share. It’s been months that I’ve known I was supposed to share this, but I’ve been waiting for Him to give me the words He wants me say. 
 

I was listening to a podcast from Steven Furtick and I wrote down this from his sermon, “Delight in weakness and hardship. When I look like I’m weak and feel like I’m week, the strength of God is manifested in my life. For when I am weak, then I am strong.” That revelation has given me the courage to write these words out today. I can be open. I can be vulnerable. I can be transparent. The facade must come down. Who am I fooling anyway? What’s the point? Learning to admit hard things I’m going through is part of the healing that I know will take place. I’ve often said to God “use me!” But what I didn’t understand is that the way I want to be used by God might be different than the way He wants to use me. That it might be painful.
 

I’m sitting on an airplane en route to California half asleep and I felt as though he spoke these words right to my spirit “you don’t have to have eloquent words for me to use you” so here I am typing in the notes of my iphone, my fingers feel jittery and theres a hint of red on my cheeks from the heat because my nerves are racing. I’m not a writer, I’m a photographer. So please excuse my lack of grammar and just plain bad style of writing as I probably will jump all over the place here.
 

Let me start by saying that it’s not easy sharing personal struggle, pain, and heartache. To those of you who have done it, I commend you for your honesty, transparency and vulnerability. I have the utmost respect for you. This is not easy. 
 

Let’s take a flash back to 8 months ago. February 2015. I get home from work to finish packing for our trip to Louisiana. Clothes and suitcases scattered about our bedroom. Logan was still at work and I was home getting our last minute things together. Something had felt a little off, I know my body well and knew something wasn’t right. So after little jokes here and there from the girls I work with, I decide to run to the drug store and buy a pregnancy test. I get home, do what you do.. then BAM. Two blue lines appear. Positive. I take another pregnancy test, positive. OMG. Freak out moment. Eyes wide. “I’m going to be a mom!!” I yell out as if someone besides the dog is there. Holy cow, I thought.
 

Shocked, surprised, happy, scared, ecstatic, over the moon, and nauseous all wrapped into one. 
 

Logan comes home, I tell him the news and we instantly start crying tears of joy. We go on our trip, only the two of us knowing this little secret and called it our first “family” adventure. We did the math, 6 weeks along and I so thankful for the miracle that was growing inside of me.
 

Fast forward to 13 weeks of pregnancy. The one week left until my 2nd trimester! Woo, we pretty much made it. The hard part is over. The morning sickness will come to an end soon, I’d hoped. It’s the Thursday before Easter weekend. Gearing up for our doctors appt we went so confidently to because I was still sick. (And sick is good when you’re pregnant.) We received the devastating news… we’ve miscarried. 
 

Our hearts were shattered. 
 

A missed miscarriage. No signs, no cramping, no spotting. Nothing. 

And the most difficult part was that I had to wait for four days (due to the holiday) to have a procedure done (known as a DandC) to remove our lifeless baby from my body.
 

My eyes are swelling up with tears now, because what I’m about to say is hard. 
 

I know what it’s like to go to multiple dr appointments and hear a healthy heart beat. And then not hear one at all.
 

I know what it’s like to feel so heartbroken that your insides literally ache and numbness takes a front row seat on your ability to think straight.
 

I know what it’s like to have baby announcement photos taken and never get to share them. 
 

I know what it’s like to receive infant clothes as gifts that I’ll never be able to dress her in. 
 

I know what it’s like to sit at a table with our closest friends and try to decide on baby names together. 
 

I know what it’s like to attend our Easter church service with our lifeless daughter in my womb. 
 

I know what it’s like to feel like I’ve let my husband down in that I won’t be able to provide him the daughter he wanted so badly. Like I could’ve done something different and she would’ve lived.
 

I know what it’s like to have a due date with no baby to deliver on it. 
 

I know what it’s like to feel like I’m never going to be good enough to be a mom. Perhaps that “just isn’t the call God has on my life.”
 

Lies.
 

I know what it’s like to be so weak, that I would believe any lie the enemy told me about why this miscarriage happened. 
 

I know what it’s like to fake a smile, and build a wall so high up that no one knows that I have hurts, struggles, and loss. Until now. 
 

This is in no way a record of me feeling sorry for myself. But it is a record of the pain I’ve felt, and the struggles I’ve had to face and the mountains we’ve had to climb. I am not a victim. I will admit that I have been afraid, and I still battle with the fear of going through this, yet again. But fear is the lack of faith that God is In control, and I refuse to operate out of fear. Did I plan this? Never. Could I have changed it? No. Can I control my thoughts and pray for God to heal my heart? YES. I’m not responsible for this tragic event in my life, but I am responsible for how I respond to it. 

I know that The Lord is for us, not against us. That by his stripes we are healed. Even in my darkest valley, my faith in Jesus has carried me through. My faith has been tested, but my joy is being restored. I will continue to heal, I will continue to grow, and I will continue to love. I have a peace knowing that I will become a mother someday, whether our child will come from my own body or someone else’s. I know God would not place a desire in my heart without the intention to fulfill it. 
 

I will always promise not to be too proud to admit that I have struggles. We all have them and we all have a story. So much healing comes when we can link arms and know that we are in this TOGETHER, and I know healing will come when I am no longer silent about this. Whatever struggle you’re dealing with, whether it looks like mine or not.. That God is for you! Gods intentions are GOOD intentions. The healing will come with time, but we must allow this process to prune our character and activate our faith in deeper ways we never thought were possible. Let’s grow together. Let’s encourage each other. And build each other up instead of building walls to keep each other out. It’s okay to admit that we’re not okay.  
 

October 12, 2015 would have been our sweet girls birthday, just a few days away. We named her Nova and we call her Nova Plum. Although her little life was cut short here on earth she continues to teach us so much. She has fulfilled her purpose, and God has used her to strengthen our marriage and our deepen our faith. We have learned to trust even in uncertainty and the unknown future that God has already mapped out for us. She has taught us that even though the struggle, pain, and loss, that we too we have strength.

We know that we will see her again someday in heaven, until then, we will miss her, we will always remember her, and we will always love her. 
 

Thank you for taking the time to read, love you guys.

Tracy