About Me

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Hi. Welcome to my "taboo" blog. My name is Steph, and when I first started this, I was still in my thirties. In 2017, I switch decades! I am a Christian, so underlying everything I do and say is the Word of God, and the foundational truths I have learnt over the years. This doesn't mean I'm perfect - I am human. It just means I recognise I need God's help to live this life and try to live out His way, as best I can. So that's me in a nutshell. Thanks for taking the time to read through my blog, I hope you draw strength, hope or encouragement from what you read.

Saturday, October 27, 2012

An Animal Called "Grief"

Hubby and I were sat watching one of my favourite shows... How I met your mother. I don't know if you've ever seen it, but it's an American sitcom... a hilarious story-telling series as a man tells his children about the story of his journey from College to meeting their mother. We meet his friends, and follow their stories, as far as they occur with Ted's life-story. 

The episode we were watching was one I hadn't seen before (I'm one of those people who watches the repeats of previous series ready for the new series to start!), and was duly laughing when I should be laughing, and crying when I should be crying. It was a Christmas episode, and two of Ted's friends were a couple who had been apart for a while. Ted fell out with the girlfriend of his best mate, and ended up leaving the flat he shared with them to spend Christmas Eve dinner with his cousin and there children. A lovely family Christmas round the turkey. Before Ted and Lily make friends and he is invited home again to join them for their Christmas plans (so worth watching if you have never seen it). 

And then it hit me.

It winded me with the sheer velocity with which it hit me.

The news I had received four days before suddenly whacked me full in the stomach, from nowhere. Hubby looked at me and asked if I was OK, I suddenly leapt up from the sofa and tried to get to the bathroom before the tears came, but crumpled in a heap on the fluffy rug in front of the fire.

"What's wrong???" He asked, clearly concerned.

It took a while before the sobs stopped enough for me to answer him. "What if... *sob* What if I can't... *sob* what if I won'texperiencethat*sob* our ownfamilyChristmas" (the words seemed to flow into one word rather than one sentence).

I have never heard myself cry in the way I did that night, I am blessed in that I have never lost anyone close to me. But I have heard about people who literally collapse and wail with grief. The cries of anguish that night literally came from somewhere I had no control over. And as Hubby held me, praying for me, this feeling of grief of what may not happen slowly abated itself.

Grief is a strange animal.
The way it reared up from nowhere was quite shocking.
But the peace I felt after, was incredible.

I don't know what the future holds, and yet in spite of this, I know my Lord is giving me a deep, deep peace, which is surpassing my understanding, and is strengthening me for each day. The hardest part is waiting for an appointment to come through, so I can have some of the questions I am carrying answered by the consultant. Until then, I put my trust in the Lord because I know and can really feel He is near me. Closer to me than Hubby ever could be. Uplifting me and supporting me with His love and mercy. His unfailing promise to me that the plans He has for me are to give me a hope and a future. Regardless of what that means. He knows what He has in mind for my life. And for that, I am so thankful. 

I could not envisage handling this situation alone, while waiting for results, diagnoses and treatment, cure etc... of this "sub-fertility" journey I am on. Thank You Jesus for your presence with me, with us, on this road. Hold any woman who is also walking this road close to you Lord, for it is a hard climb, and there are many moments of hurting.