I had an experience in January...one that changed my life, and changed who I am. I briefly glossed over it in this post, and it was the catalyst for this decision. I talked to a friend about it. The only person I had known who had dealt with it (I have since found others) too, and she told me to write it down. Writing has always been cathartic for me, but this was different...I wasn't sure I could put it into words, but I did. Here it is...(its kinda long and wordy, but that's how I am).
When I was a little girl, my Dad held me when I was nervous or scared. He held on to the back of my bike and guided me while I was learning to ride my two-wheeler. He held my hand as I moved forward with new experiences, both good and bad. I never thought that I could feel my Heavenly Father’s love in that same way, but now I know better. Through one of life’s most difficult trials, he held my hand.
In January 2011 I attended the temple with my wonderful husband. We had been praying for months to add another little angel to our family. As we left the temple I asked him if had received any inspiration. He told me that he had, and that he felt at peace. I stayed quiet and pondered the very different feeling I had in my heart. I felt distinctly that I was either pregnant, or would be soon, but that something was different. I pondered what that might mean. Does that mean that my child will have a disability? Will I have twins? Weeks went by and I finally got a positive pregnancy test. I started feeling nauseous and tired. It was wonderful. I was so happy to feel so horrible.
I confided, against my better judgment, in one of my sisters. I shared our great news, and we shared tears of joy. My sweet husband and I decided not to tell anyone else for a few more months. We had waited so long that we wanted to be sure. My Heavenly Father knew that I would need someone else to help our family, so he prepared a way through my sister. A few days later I felt horrible pain in my abdomen for several hours. I ignored the pain, realizing that babies do crazy things to a mother’s body. Four days later I woke early in the morning to the same extreme pain. After several hours of being doubled over in pain on the couch I was able to go about my normal life, even taking the opportunity to accompany my family to a movie. After nearly feinting in the parking lot I started to wonder if something was wrong. I thought I would wait and see what the next few days would bring. The next thing I knew I was on the phone with my regular doctor. I don’t remember making the decision to call her. As a matter of fact, I am pretty sure that the choice was taken out of my hands. My Father in Heaven knew that it had to be done, and He guided me through it.
At the appointment about an hour later, they discovered an ectopic pregnancy. We were devastated and terrified. The pain had been caused by internal bleeding. I needed to have surgery within a few hours or my life would be in danger. My world was falling apart. Not only was I going to miss out on the opportunity to bring a baby into this world, but I was in mortal peril at the same time. I needed someone else to tend to my children and family needs while my husband and I grieved and prepared for surgery. Thankfully my Father in Heaven had prepared my sister with the information that she needed to step in. Within a few hours I was at the hospital, I was alive, and my baby, or what I thought was my baby, was gone.
I had never heard of anyone else who had been through this particular experience. Even with the strength and support of my husband, I felt alone. My loss was my own. My burden was heavy, and there was not anyone to help me carry it.
After the surgery there was a lot of recovering to do both physically and emotionally. My mother, sisters, husband, father, and friends took great care of both types of needs. Unfortunately there was still a hole. On Sunday I was left alone for the first time as my family attended their church meetings. I spent the nearly four hours alone sobbing uncontrollably. I was alone--so completely and utterly alone. All my life I had been told that Jesus had suffered all things. All I could think was as a man, I know he never suffered this. After hours of sobbing, days of deep sadness, and weeks of loneliness, I realized YES! He did! How could I possibly have ignored His sacrifice? The literal physical suffering may have been different, but His suffering was there just the same.
As I look back on the experience as a whole I realized that my Father in Heaven was holding my hand the entire time. Just as my earthly father would have wanted to prepare me for this hardship, but Heavenly Father gave me a warning. The plan could not be changed. He knew the pain I was going to experience and he warned me. He knew that I was stubborn, so He encouraged me to call the doctor. He knew I was scared, so he blessed my husband with strength to hold me up. He knew that I needed physically and emotional stability, so He sent my brother in law and husband as righteous priesthood holders to give me a blessing. He knew that I was suffering, so he sent me friends and family to support me. I was alone so He sent His Son to suffer all things first, so that I could find strength and companionship in the atonement and in the gospel.
Looking back, I can see all I have been given. I see that my Father in Heaven acted just like my wonderful father on this earth. He held my hand; he encouraged and supported me through every stage of this trial. He knows me so well. He knew what I would need, and He offered it freely before I knew I needed it. Now more than ever before I know that I am a child of God. He is the father of my spirit, and as such he wants to guide me, support me, and hold my hand. If I allow Him, he will hold my hand always.
