Ultrasound #2: Feelings

I was full of anticipation Monday morning as we looked forward to seeing Verity's sweet little self on ultrasound shortly after lunch. I met Ted at the medical center...where the whole appointment seemed to be over in the blink of an eye.

And it all felt like a chasing after the wind.

We had some answers, a few precious facts to hold onto. But somehow they weren't enough. They weren't what I was looking for. Which begged the question...what exactly WAS I looking for...longing for?

I left the medical center planning a few stops before going home. Mostly I wanted to be alone to try to figure out my thoughts and feelings, which seemed so strange and foreign inside my own head. My first stop was a beautifully peaceful place, a crisis pregnancy center across the street from the abortion clinic where a few weeks ago we took part in an ongoing prayer vigil. I wanted to drop off some outgrown toddler clothing and meet one of the sweet volunteers who has corresponded with me a bit since learning about Verity. I got a quick tour of the facility and heard more about the loving and compassionate services offered there. I'm glad I stopped; it was a bright spot in a confusing day.

Traffic and miles of highways gave me plenty of time alone in the car to think and pray. Why was I feeling so emotional? Why, my soul, are you downcast? Why so disturbed within me? (Psalm 42:11a) What was my problem? The news about Verity had all been good--so many answers to specific prayers. And truly, I AM grateful for the good report.

Anger.

Seemingly out of nowhere, a rage roiled inside of me, even as I felt the crushing weight of despondency. And it took shape more quickly than the words I tried to form in prayer. (I'm ever so grateful the Lord understands our hearts.)

Anger at the clinical approach and unhelpful explanations from the doctor regarding the ultrasound.
Anger at her constant referral to our baby girl as it.
Anger at the feelings of helplessness and uncertainty.
Anger at having to be in the position of WAITING...interminable waiting...instead of planning. Don't we do enough WAITING as a military family?? Always waiting, waiting, waiting, uncertain about what is coming next. WAITING for specific leading from God--to retire after 20 years next summer or not? Before Verity's T18 diagnosis, we felt a peace about staying on active duty. This of course has us again in the position of WAITING for that next assignment...but knowing (what little we know) about Verity, everything seems extraordinarily more complicated. Will we be moving as a family of 11 with a special-needs baby...or as a family of 10 grieving the loss of a child, a sibling?

And fear. Oh, the fear.

It's ugly. There are so many days I don't have time for fear, other days when it simply isn't a part of life because LIFE is too full of God's joy and peace. When I'm living in worship, walking by faith instead of by sight, purposefully engaged in what God has called me to do...when my head rules my heart...fear is not a factor.

But. Feelings have a mind of their own, don't they? And so fear washes over me inexplicably, even as I experience the precious peace that never truly leaves but somehow seems quiet in those moments of crashing, frightful waves.

And so I sat in our driveway after a long afternoon of medical talk, errands, driving, thinking, and praying. I sat quite awhile, overcome by these powerful emotions that I hated to admit I had. Don't I trust God? Don't I take Him at His word? Hasn't He proved Himself loving and good and faithful no matter what my circumstances?

YES. All that is true.

But what I'm feeling is also real.

Our wise small group leader told us, after texting Ted and me particular verses meant to encourage us, that he knows Scripture isn't just platitudes...he wanted to make sure we understood his intentions, that he wasn't simply quoting verses to make the hurt go away and "fix things." Truth is truth, regardless of feelings.

I'm heading into this weekend feeling pretty battered and bruised emotionally. From anger so powerful it left me shaking in the driveway Monday afternoon to gut-wrenching fear that still rips at my heart when I least expect it, I've felt pummeled even as I strive to tread water amidst the "smaller" waves of sadness and confusion. In searching for tangible answers to my Trisomy 18 questions, I've only found more uncertainty.

On Christ the solid Rock I stand,
All other ground is sinking sand...all other ground is sinking sand...

For now we see through a glass, darkly; but then face to face: now I know in part; but then shall I know even as also I am known. 1 Corinthians 13:12, KJV

I've told our kids multiple times that our God is big enough to handle questions and doubts. I don't want to serve a God I fully understand--how would He then be GOD?! The truth is...I will never have things figured out this side of heaven. I will continue to wrestle. But like Jacob (Genesis 32:22-32), I won't let go until He blesses me.

Why, my soul, are you downcast?
    Why so disturbed within me?
Put your hope in God,
    for I will yet praise him,
    my Savior and my God. 
Psalm 42:11

I want to end with this verse, a hopeful note, a note of confidence in my Savior and my God. It does seem a tidy way to end this blog post...yet I feel it somehow wouldn't be completely honest. There is so much more I could say about this struggle, so many more details I could give about specific fears that haunt me. And Lord willing, I will bare it all; this isn't my story, but His. My deepest desire is to honor God, and even though some of the sharing is going to be painful and ugly...I think that just as I have to wrestle with the downcast, disturbed parts of me in order to get to that place of hope and praise...I also have to reveal that struggle so that--just maybe--others will also put their hope in God.

Special thanks to those who are wrestling with me in prayer...