How the Pro-Choice Movement Has Made Me Less of a Mother.

Next Wednesday it marks ten years since little Mac's birth. Since his death. Since his stillbirth. I am one who likes to put a name to things and I am not even sure how to ever approach the way I talk about it all. Our culture has built up boundaries for the way we can, or do, view young life at this point.
I was twenty-four years old and sixteen weeks pregnant when I found out he was gone. I was sixteen weeks pregnant which is labelled as not counting, not a child, just a fetus.... So, at sixteen weeks pregnant, I was sent home with drugs to help bring forth this fetus. At home I laboured in my bathtub for four and a half hours, doped up on multiple Tylenol Fours, and with not even a follow-up doctor's appointment.
Two weeks later, without even being able to get dressed that morning, I found myself in another doctor's office crying for help. Post traumatic stress she said- is it devastating to lose a child, even a child not yet considered a child.
I will tell you, he was a child. When my body was done dispelling this lost life, I held him. I held a full baby, lost somewhere between eight and sixteen weeks. I saw his formed body, his eyes, his little arms and feet. A baby encased so perfectly in his embryonic sac. When it was all over I wrapped him in a towel, put him in a shoe box, and threw him away. I threw my child away. Since he was not considered a child, I had nowhere to mourn, nowhere to bury him. I knew he was already with God, and I let him go in the most painful and undignified way.
All the time I count my children up. I have four living breathing children now. I have two that have gone. I was a mother then, just as I am now. I felt that little soul inside myself. Each time I have carried a child, they have totalled my children for medical history, and each time I have to explain.... I have had two missed miscarriages (as is labelled the way I lost my children) and four children.
Why do my babies not count as babies? Just maybe, then we would have to ask some real and honest questions of our pro-choice culture. Having babies, wanted or unwanted, is hard. Losing conceived babies at any point in time is hard. They are all life, just as we began. I am a mother of six.

We are all the same.

We have been feeding poor people. It all started at Tim Horton's after swim lessons one day. There was a girl there who had a sign that read that she just wanted some food-  she would take anything. I wanted to invite her in for lunch but it is a tricky thing with children, and I was not sure about my husband's reaction. There was also a little fear there, I am sure. Instead I bought a gift card for her from that Tim's, but when we left she was already gone. It was then that we started a discussion about helping people and why they even needed help in the first place. Days later, we were in the city and there was a man on the corner with a sign asking for food. We gave him the gift card and told him that it must have been for him. From then on, I have had many talks with my kids about people in need- why they may be in need, that they are just like us but may have made bad decisions, or maybe they have not have been loved well. Anyways, I am not making this admission for my own sake. This is just the back story for today. Today my mother's heart soared to know that the message is getting through.

After church we were going for lunch, when once again we saw a woman with a sign, asking for change this time. We went and got our lunch and bought her some too. I also had twenty dollars in my wallet and gave her that. When I handed it to her, I saw her face, and knew she must be taking drugs with all the sores I saw. It was sad and I later thought to myself that I wished I could have stayed awhile, heard her story and told her that she is loved. I thought maybe I shouldn't have given her the money since she may use it for harm, but that is up to her now. When we drove away up the highway, I asked my kids what they thought and felt about helping poor people. My son spoke first, "It makes me feel happy and sort of creeped out."
I talked to him about the creeped out feeling and I asked him why it made him feel happy? He responded, "Because we are helping someone."
"Why would you feel happy about helping someone?" I wanted to know. "Why would you care about someone you don't even know?"
"Because we are all loved by God," was his simple reply.

He gets it.

Do we get it? I love his answer. I want that to sink in.

We are all the same.

A Starting Place

It was a lovely introspective drive both in and out of town today. It is a good Sunday. There was a good word spoken at church. I am thinking about where we stand; where we are headed. I like labels. I like to know where I am and where I am going, but right now I am in the fray of indecision. Or maybe I am still waiting. I have no answers. I have wanted to begin this new story, but I have no idea where this story starts. So, I am just going to move forward.
Church: Jesus is my foundation.  He is my marker. I was thinking back to all I have been through and his will was always my prayer, even in the worst times..... "God, I choose you".... "God, change me".... "God, use me".... "God, teach me from this hard situation".... "God, don't let go of me".... "God, give me a friend that understands where I have been but knows you too".... "God, heal me".... "God, redeem my life".... "God, use me".... "God, do your will for me and my family".... I have always had a desire to choose Him back and then to teach that to my children. I long to be with people who desire the same, and that at the forefront of their lives. Like all people, I am flawed and so I fight for a place where I can strive for the best place to do this. I find myself at a place where I am driving again for church. I feel like this church is fostering our family for now, and I hope they will eventually be able to take us in. This is the best way that I can describe it. I feel like I needed some respite. I was beginning to be overwhelmed, exhausted, and despairing again. I know that I may be called back home/here again, but for now I am experiencing healing, and restorative rest.
Health: We have been sick. My husband is sick. My soul has been sick. My kids are catching every sickness that comes by. I think it is a reflection of everything that is going on. No one just gets this sick ongoing. It is tiring to care for the sick with no seeming end relief. Hm.... maybe that is a thought to meditate on for a few minutes....
Friends: I am grateful for my friends. I don't need many, but I have been given a few that are amazing, loving mothers. They live Jesus and are kind, prayerful, worshipful, and live with intention. At the same time, I feel divided in places from these friends. The church here, with all it's binding tied around, has caused us all to be thrown into different places. Each one has gone to where they can guard their children from each tie that does not nurture growth in a growing family. It may seem hard to say so, but when I check my thoughts, it is plain to see. I am not afraid of the confrontation that may come from saying so, but of misunderstandings. I pray for all truth to be told and held onto so that we may not be so divided.
Living location: I never loved the small town living. I grew up in the city and I love the feel of a city. I like being around people and I like the diversity. I love that there is much opportunity for learning, for helping, and for growing. I am tired of all the driving. I would love the convenience of being near to the grocery store, the doctor, the pool, the arts, and more. I want my children to be able to grow in their own way and in what interests them, being able to expand on those things fully. The opportunities for every aspect of life seems more full in city living at this point. There are some contrasts to these points but overall moving is in consideration. It is all not up to me though.
Homeschooling: I am loving homeschooling. After three years, we are developing a good way of making sure each child is progressing and are seeing their natural skills coming out. This next year will be a little different as we register, and therefore, are accountable to our own plans. I am looking forward to even more freedom and letting the kids dive into what sparks their interests, of course with some guidelines too.
Me: I need some space to breathe. I need places where I can have a quiet coffee or tea, places where I am encouraged, places where I can minister from my abilities, places where I can seek help, places where I can take each child on special dates, and I need dates with my husband too. I need to go see the doctor, and the optometrist. And, I need more time for quiet prayer.
These thoughts are where I start. What do I choose? Which places do I make changes? Changes are coming regardless. Like my friend said to me today, "It is already written."
I am thankful for God's good plans. I am thankful for old stories and new stories. I am thankful for home and friends. I am thankful for changes that sometimes feel like ripping out, because eventually they may be known as replanting.