Discombobulated

In life there are distinctive opportunities - a single choice that will lead us down Path A or Path B. It isn't that one choice is better than the other, it is simply a choice. We can't foresee the path in one direction any easier than the next, and each road comes with its own unique trials and blessings, opportunities and regrets.

I've played the game over the years of asking myself what my distinctive choices were, where they led me, and where I might be had I made a different choice. I've only had a few of those experiences, but they've been monumental and I *think* (no wait, I know) I made the right choice each time. God has been good. And yet here I find myself at another distinctive crossroad. A choice that can be made that will lead to very different paths, not an easy choice, but one I am desperate to do the right way.

At the beginning of March I found out I was pregnant. PREGNANT. With an IUD in place, I might add. I've always said that God's sense of humor is ironic, and this was the height of irony (especially when you couple it with the fact that K2 was conceived on birth control as well). The day I found out I went to the doctor and they removed the IUD, and then it was just a waiting game. Though the doctor couldn't give me hard statistics, she said I had a 50-60% chance of miscarrying. So the month of March was spent waiting and wondering. Trying to wrap my head around actually being pregnant, and what the next 9 months (and 18 years!) was going to be like. I had an appointment scheduled on March 31st for an ultrasound, and to see the baby.

I have to say, B was amazing during all of this. As soon as I found out I was pregnant, I was a sobbing, disheartened mess. B's response was to give me a hug, tell me everything was going to be ok, and that this was obviously God's will. He allowed me my fears, without letting them turn into his. He seemed to immediately accept this new, life-altering circumstance with the same attitude he brings to everything else - that it will all turn out ok in the end. B and I have an amazing talent for one of us to be calm when the other is a neurotic mess. This was my turn for the neuroses, and he was my rock.

So the month dragged on and the Saturday evening before my Tuesday appointment, I started to bleed. It took me by surprise and my immediate reaction was... sobbing. This was the hard core kind. The kind where I couldn't catch my breath, and I went into silent mode. I don't sob very often. I don't even like to cry. I couldn't figure out why it hit me so hard, but I think it was a variety of emotions. Disappointment, regret, fear, more change and, most of all, guilt. I had struggled so long trying to decide if *I* could get through this pregnancy and how it would affect *me* to have another baby, and suddenly my guilt slammed me in the gut.

I know there are people who struggle their whole lives to have children - they dream of it, they crave it, they sacrifice everything to do it. I know there are those who struggle seemingly needlessly to attain this basic human desire. And here I was, spitting at fate and feeling sorry for myself and refusing to accept the gift that was given. And then it was taken away.

By Monday morning my doctor confirmed it was indeed a miscarriage, and despite some major pain on Tuesday and major exhaustion on Wednesday, I'm getting back to normal. That means emotionally too. I let myself entertain, for a split second, that my sour attitude resulted in this precious spirit being given to someone more deserving, but that doesn't really mesh with my view of my Heavenly Father. So instead, I think its an opportunity. A chance to rethink our future. A chance for B and I to be led by the Spirit.

I always said that if we were meant to have more children, God would have to hit me over the head with it. And so He has. It's time for B and I to do some serious considering. It's time for us to stare out at this crossroads, and to choose a path. I hope it is the right one. I *think* (no wait, I know) it will be.