Part 1: The Storm

      Part I

    It's been one year since my hysterectomy. I've had a lot of time to reflect on the impact that surgery has had in my life. While truly so much good came from it, it is something I find myself still grieving. The guilt and confusion I have for grieving a part of me that was making me sick keeps me from acknowledging those feelings. There's guilt for feeling any kind of loss at all when I have two beautiful children. There's guilt for grieving what was a faithful blessing from God. I needed that surgery to be able to live outside of my bed again. I keep telling myself to suck it up, really. Then there's the battle of combating those derogatory thoughts and knowing that allowing my self-talk to keep me from feeling my true emotions will only lead to worsened depression and anxiety and most unfortunately, produce a shame so deep that I am too cowardly to go to God about it all. He has blessed me and answered so many prayers. I know He was with me every step of that journey and I know that He will never leave my side unless I leave His. Part of the confusion is the thought that reverence involves cutting out the bad parts or the difficult emotions. I have now come to the realization that being dishonest isn't true reverence. The One Who created me understands more about the complexity of human emotions than I do. Being able to feel gratitude and grief simultaneously is itself a blessing. The gratitude is the sunlight that pierces through the leftover storm clouds of grief. Those beams of sunlight are God's blessings through the storms of life. They are the hope you can cling to when the very same thing you're grieving is hope.

    I'll try to make the backstory of my subpar reproductive organs as brief as possible. I've struggled with debilitatingly painful periods ever since I first got my period at age 10. I went through different seasons in life where the pain was more debilitating than other times or when I didn't have much pain at all. I wish I understood the biology behind it all but all I know is that after I had my daughter almost seven years ago now, my issues surrounding my cycle only got worse. Eventually, I wound up in bed with a diagnosis of adenomyosis unable to do all of the menial tasks I took for granted. I was feeling worthless, burdensome, hopeless. There were a lot of times I would push myself physically in hopes of alleviating the mental and emotional pain; even if that meant a backlash of physical pain so intense that walking wasn't even a whisper of a possibility. Every day I knew I probably wouldn't be able to leave bed to do anything except use the restroom or shower. Sometimes I couldn't even do those things by myself. At this point, Covid19 had hit.

     I was spiraling. My mental health had taken a turn for the worse. Paul (my husband) was dealing with medical issues while taking care of our two children and a sick wife. He's an RN and when Covid hit, he and the rest of his coworkers all received an almost ten percent pay cut despite the emergent need for nurses. That brought its own set of trials (as money always does). I was turning to alcohol more than I would probably like to admit to on paper in hopes of numbing both the physical and emotional pain. I was tired of feeling. Feeling the constant pain. Feeling the nonstop anxiety and depression. Feeling helpless as my mind raced with OCD's relentless intrusive thoughts. I isolated myself by hiding the darkest parts of myself. I allowed them to stay in the dark for so long that the enemy was trying to turn them into truths. Truths that terrified me. Truths that kept me from being a mom or wife God would want me to be. Truths that felt permanent and were not covered under God's grace. The real truth is that the enemy is the father of all lies. The real truth is that God loved me even when I didn't believe it. He loved me even when I didn't accept it. I know He still loves me today; through sunshine and rain, through contentment and fear.

John 8:44

"...He was a murderer from the beginning, and does not stand in the truth, because there is no truth in him. When he lies, he speaks out of his own character, for he is a liar and the father of lies."

Romans 5:8, 10

"But God shows His love for us in that while we were still sinners, Christ died for us."

"For if while we were enemies we were reconciled to God by the death of His Son, much more, now that we are reconciled, shall we be saved by His life."

    I was afraid of everything as a child. My mother can attest to the difficulties of raising me. The endless phone calls during panic attacks, the need for comforting with any/all doctor's visits. The strenuous activity of taking me to the dentist or to get immunizations; those trips wouldn't always end successfully. I got really good at locking myself in medical facility bathrooms and keeping my mouth shut. Crowded places like theme parks did not produce happy childhood memories for me. Movie theaters scared me even before any were the victim of shootings. I felt like anything new was just another possible way to die and at the time, I thought dying was the worst thing that could happen to you. You want to take me on an airplane? Good luck. I still feel bad about the time my mom had to rent a car in California and drive us all the way back to Idaho after I de-boarded the plane before it took off. Hysterical and mortified, I got off of the plane because of this unshakeable feeling of impending doom. It didn't help that my dad was still on the plane and I was positive it was going to be the last time I ever saw him (he made it home safely in a few hours). So, you get the point. My anxiety ruled my childhood in a lot of ways. I developed unhealthy relationships because I didn't know how to cope. I didn't know how to be alone. 

     When Covid19 became an official pandemic, I had to go to every doctor's appointment by myself. Every exam, every consult, meeting every new doctor, the endometrial biopsy, the MRI, the countless trips to the lab, the surgery, and all the follow-up appointments. There was no other option but to do it alone. It was just the start of what would be the biggest storm our marriage has faced so far. My faith was suffering in a way I never want to experience again. It is only because of God's abundant love and mercy that we were able to grow so incredibly closer together instead of tearing our marriage apart. It is only because of God's faithfulness that I was able to do all of those things without Paul by my side. He proved so many of His promises to be true during this time in my life and through that has transformed my heart, my mind, and my relationships.

    God strengthened our marriage by first strengthening us. He knew I'd have to do everything without Paul. He knew Paul would have to play the role of both parents and pick up my slack. He knew Paul would need to seek the strength only found in Him. Paul wasn't there to hold my hand or comfort me when I was scared at various appointments and procedures. He wasn't there to distract me every time I had an I.V. placed. He couldn't be with me during the MRI. He wasn't able to wipe away the tears streaming down my face during the biopsy. I couldn't be much of a support for Paul when he was navigating the pandemic at work. I couldn't do the usual things I took care of around the house. I couldn't do last minute laundry for him when he was too exhausted at night. We had to learn to comfort each other in new ways. We had to learn to trust in God separately before we could fully trust Him together in our marriage and with our marriage. I know I was never truly alone during those times. I was confident in the Lord's presence even when I was scared. I had finally figured out what it meant to walk by faith, not by sight. I finally learned what a relationship with God was supposed to be.

2 Corinthians 5:6-7

"So we are always of good courage. We know that while we are at home in the body we are away from the Lord, for we walk by faith, not by sight.

    My whole life I've been searching for a more meaningful relationship with God. I always knew that something wasn't right but I had gotten to the point where I thought that the possibility of that something being on God's end was real. I was so blind to how much sin had infiltrated my heart and hardened it in so many ways. I didn't believe God's promises. I didn't really believe in my own salvation and felt like I was still chasing it somehow. I didn't believe in God's true grace. I didn't believe that Jesus had conquered death by His resurrection. I didn't believe in my relationship with the Holy Spirit and had ignored the active role He has in my life.  But the thing is that, I didn't know I didn't believe those things until I actually did believe them with my whole heart. I thought I already had it figured out and was just failing at it. So much of me was missing and it was because I was looking to the world to help fix my problems instead of focusing on what's really important--living for Christ. Once I figured that out, all those missing things weren't missing anymore. Because it was God Who was missing from my life. He was missing in my marriage. He was missing in my parenting. He was missing in my worship. I think He knew I needed to be brought closer to Him to see just how far away I was before. In the end, I know what I gained isn't even worth comparing to what I lost. We all lose temporary earthly things including our mortal bodies. Gaining eternity and everything that comes with it is more precious than anything this earthly body or world could ever offer us. Even though my newfound infertility is something I still struggle with; I would go through it all a dozen times over as long as the end result is a newfound relationship with God, Jesus, and His Spirit.

Matthew 6:33

"But seek first the kingdom of God and His righteousness, and all these things will be added to you."

    This post is going to be one of a series that documents this time in my life and the things I've learned. I'm not sure how many posts there will be total but I thank you for reading.

-E.B.