Lots of people ask if I get special pregnancy treatment from my doctor for a pregnancy following a stillbirth. The short answer is no; there’s no statistical or medical reason to believe that what happened with Sam (whatever it was) will happen again with Tres.
So this is a “normal” pregnancy, at least according to the hospital and insurance company. But there’s no reassurance for a mama’s heart in statements like “statistically unlikely.” Even my previous “normal” pregnancies gave me plenty of cause for anxiety; at every appointment I held my breath until the heartbeat was located. I asked too many times during the ultrasound, “Does everything look okay?” I counted kicks, noted every strange cramp or ache, watched for blood.
Numbers do not comfort my soul, so I’ve never been one to hunt down statistics and figures to understand my chances with various forces of nature. But statistics are acutely un-comforting to me now, as I suspect they are to anyone who has been that one out of a thousand or a million. I don’t want to take my chances on anything, even if my chances are good.
But here’s the problem: for all his or her closeness in proximity to me, I don’t have any more control over Tres than I did over Abby or over Sam. Worrying, studying statistics, extra monitoring at the hospital–those won’t make a difference in how this pregnancy turns out because I am not the one who gives this baby life.
I’ve been thinking on this quote from Martyn Lloyd-Jones: “Most of your unhappiness in life is due to the fact that you are listening to yourself instead of talking to yourself.”
My worries, doubts, and fears are the default soundtrack in my brain. It’s easy, even comforting, to listen to them and to be consumed by them. But I am trying to choose daily to turn the sound down on those voices and speak loudly into my mind that which I know is true. Here’s a glimpse of what that sounds like, and feel free to borrow these thoughts (as I have) for days when you need them:
And one more…it’s too long to get stuck in my head like these others, but it’s rich enough that I go back and read it almost daily:
“May we, by His grace, case ourselves into the arms of Sovereign Grace, knowing that God must give all, Christ must be all, and the Spirit must work all–and man must be as clay in the potter’s hands, that the Lord may do with him as seems to Him good. Rejoice, dear brothers and sisters, however low you are brought, for if the Spirit humbles you He means no evil, but He intends infinite good to your soul.“