Here’s how the last twelve months have played out:
January 2016: heartbroken over miscarriage #1
February: miscarriage recovery, physically and emotionally
March: heartbroken over family loss
April: pregnancy & miscarriage #2 heartbreak
May: miscarriage recovery with Ultimate Reset, depression sets in
June: depression worsens, alcohol intake increases
July: same pattern
August: start anti-depressants, swear off alcohol
September: begin to try to conceive again
November: (all day) morning sickness sets in accompanied by fatigue and acid reflux (thanks to my supplements)
December: spent the month nauseous, reflux-y, and tired only to find out we miscarried again
January 2017: miscarriage #3 causes blood infection which requires hospital stay, blood transfusions, and surgery
I’m not sharing this with you because I want your sympathy or pity. In fact, I beg you to withhold both. I’m sharing it to offer a point of reference as to how terribly unhealthy I was this past year; health that has very little to do with the surface level weight and inches that we so often worry about.
I’m talking about the kind of health that starts on the inside and reflects outward.
So much of my physical, emotional, and spiritual energy was focused on getting pregnant, being pregnant, or recovering from a non-viable pregnancy. When I think of the past year, it’s almost blurry to me, I spent so much of it either in a fog of sadness and despair or dealing with first trimester woes.
Until recent council with a woman much wiser than me, I thought I had wasted the year. I carried enormous guilt and shame over having spent so much of my time on trying to add to my family that I detracted from the time I spent loving the family that I already have. I was nearly on the brink of wasting another year, another day, another moment wishing for a do-over before I was guided back from the snare of regret by her kind words.
Though I’d never wish to repeat it, 2016 wasn’t a wasted year. It was a different year in which each member of my family faced trials and tribulations that would help grow our faith and further our reliance on God. I didn’t put my family through anything, God brought my family to our knees, tilted our heads to the sky, and delivered us from the assumption that we could do this life without Him.
And so, with fresh perspective, I’m able to declare the season of remorse, dead, and to usher in a new season of healing and peace.
Peace in the process.
My health- my strength, will power, self discipline, and endurance- have been greatly compromised last year. So this year, regaining those attributes is my number one priority. I wish I could say that I don’t wrestle with the disappointment that comes from not fitting into the size jeans I want to be able to wear, but the truth is, I’ve spent 15 months or better ten pounds and a size larger than I’m used to being.
And because the enemy knows that is where I struggle, he has whispered never-ending lies about how those pounds define me. My head knows these statements are not from a reliable source, but my heart has a harder time defending itself against the attacks.
Can you relate?
I recognize that I’ve done the best I could do with what I’ve been dealt, but it’s time to do better. My ability fails me, but my God’s strength is in me.
I’m not aiming for perfect. I’m not following a clean eating nutrition plan 100%. I’m modifying many of the exercises. I’m not hoping for a miracle overnight.
I’m just searching for peace in the process. I don’t want to obsess over the external, anymore. I just want to learn how to feel good about feeling good. And while letting go of my mind’s “ideal” weight and size is going to take time, last year’s struggles have highlighted within me a much deeper appreciation for my health. Taking care of my body is more a luxury than a chore, now, and I want to maintain this gratitude for life.
I can have peace in the process, because God gives me grace when I slip up.