In Which I Use the Word "Suck" A Lot

There are some things about life that just plain suck:  cancer, traffic in the DC metro area, child abuse, war, election season campaign ads, lack of healthy sanitation in the developing world, burning your tongue on hot food, break ups, people who picket military funerals with "God hates fags" signs, craving Chick-fil-a on Sunday.  These are of unequal weights, sure, but I think we can all agree that they pretty much suck.  Todd and I have been walking through our own sucky experience recently:  three miscarriages in 14 months.  For those of you who can't imagine, let me assure you:  it sucks.

But here's the thing.  For reasons as yet unknown, miscarriage is part of our story.  It doesn't define us, but it is shaping us.   We hope that God is using these miscarriages (and no more!!) to shape us into more compassionate, more whole individuals and ultimately parents, but regardless, this is our story and it's time to own it.

Miscarriage is an awkward topic to bring up with friends at happy hour (ask my friends, it's awkward).  The silence surrounding this issue is strange to me given how common an experience miscarriage actually is.  According to the Cleveland Clinic, one out of every five recognized pregnancies ends in miscarriage.  Twenty percent!  Which means there is a substantial population of women (and their partners) walking around with this crushing pain - and mostly not talking about it. 

I'm no writer, and Todd is the phenomenally gifted public speaker in our family, but I feel compelled to tell this story.  God is doing something here.  And I'd like to be a faithful witness to His work in our lives.  Most people reading this are probably already aware of what's been going on, because I'm not a particularly private person (that's a polite way of saying I lack boundaries) and I'm not all that inhibited about taboo subjects (my master's thesis contained the word "diarrhea" - a lot). But in case you aren't, here's how it's happened:

March 2011:  First miscarriage at 11 weeks
October 2011:  Second miscarriage at 6.5 weeks
May 2012:  Third miscarriage at 9 weeks

So far, we have no medical answers for why this keeps happening.  The doctor's response this week: "sometimes lightning strikes three times" (to which I call b.s.  Does that really happen?  Meteorology nerds weigh in).  We have no answers, but we do have some truths - many that we are more sure of than we were a year ago.  I hope to use this space to wrestle with those truths, discover more, share what we're learning, and grieve well.  It seems clear to me that we learn our best and truest lessons in pain - and I really don't want to miss any.