Right around the time that my husband and I started trying to get pregnant, the song “Take Courage” by Kristene DiMarco came out. The song is a song of victory. It talks about trusting God’s plan over ours in a season of waiting and that he is in every detail of that. The song urges the audience to have courage and remain steadfast in faith through these times where God seems silent or is not answering in the way we hoped. This song became an anthem for me. I would raise my hands and passionately proclaim that God was in this season, while I waited for my baby. Over and over I would sing this song and wait for the day that I could claim victory over this season of my life. It was a sweet reminder that God was not leaving me alone in this time. That season seemed to get longer and longer with no end in sight. Infertility is a rough road. I lived my life two weeks at a time. The first two weeks, waiting for ovulation time and the second two weeks waiting to see if it worked that month. I started growing weary, but I never stopped singing that song.
After two years, we got pregnant and finally, this season of waiting was over! I was probably equally excited to be pregnant and relieved that we were done waiting. At 12 weeks, we found out that our baby no longer had a heartbeat. The loss itself was so heartbreaking. However, in addition to losing our sweet baby girl, I was overwhelmed by the thought that I was back in this same season of waiting. Surely, I thought, God was not going to make me wait much longer for another baby. This time, God worked quickly. After one month of trying, I was pregnant again.
I remember being so anxious to have this baby that I kept singing that song and kept thinking “He’s in this waiting too.” While I wait through pregnancy, He is here. We lost our sweet Josiah Joshua four days after he was born. As he left earth for Jesus’s arms, I felt Heaven touch earth. I have since longed for heaven more than ever before.
A few months later, we got pregnant again, and miscarried again. While healing from these losses, I am still waiting for a baby that I can bring home and raise. It is such a deep desire of my heart, but I am tired. My soul is weary from waiting. I’m tired of wondering if I’m ever going to raise children. I’m overwhelmed by grief and exhausted at the thought of entering the “trying to conceive” phase again. After losing three babies, my brain is being conditioned to believe that a positive pregnancy test does not mean I’m bringing a healthy baby home. Between taking two years to get pregnant and then losing three babies, I’ve started to believe that I’m incapable of growing healthy babies. Fighting this battle in my brain between the Truth of God and the lies that the enemy wants me to believe is utterly exhausting.
I’m learning that grief changes how we see everything. Every thought that I have, every situation with other people, every encounter I have with the Lord is experienced through this lens of grief. I am learning so much Truth about who God is and why he allows suffering in our lives. I’m learning about contentment in the midst of devastating disappointment. I’m learning about true eternal perspective.
We sang “Take Courage” during worship at church a couple of weeks ago for the first time since JJ went to heaven and I had an epiphany. It is such a simple truth, but with a fresh perspective. We are all in a season of waiting. For the rest of our lives, we are waiting. But what we wait for is not only the greatest thing ever, it is sure. It is promised to those of us who have placed our faith in Jesus. For those of us who have lost babies, the arrival in heaven will be even sweeter. We get to see Jesus face to face. Our hearts will be healed. This heaviness that we walk around with every day will be lifted. Our souls will be satisfied. And we will be reunited with our precious babies. We have so much treasure waiting in Heaven for us.
Suddenly, I am singing this song with a whole new perspective. I am exhausted from waiting. I am tired of being back living my life two weeks at a time. But I’m not singing about waiting for a baby. I’m singing about waiting for heaven. I’m not singing this song with anticipation of something that I am not promised. I am singing this song with the victory of the promise I have in Jesus. Heaven is real and it is coming. I am singing from a posture of hope, rather than a posture of defeat or uncertainty.
Now I can honestly sing the bridge of that song: “You who hold the stars, who calls them each by name, will surely keep your promise to me and I will rise in your victory.” We will rise victoriously solely because of the victory that we are promised in Christ. While we wait for eternity, “take courage my heart, stay steadfast my soul, he’s in the waiting.”
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