Dismantling Shame

I want to talk about some past experiences that I have learned from, and gained insight into as the years have passed by. A few years ago, I was on the receiving end of a very bitter dissolving of a friendship. I had reached out to a friend after the passing of my mother, and decided to be vulnerable and let her know what my needs were. This was a HUGE step for me in my healing process, and something I would have never done before. I knew that she could say no, and I made my peace with that. I was prepared for her to not be able to be there for me. What I did not expect however, was to be told that I wasn't allowed to have needs, and that my needs were inappropriate and wrong, and that I was only to take those deep things to Jesus. Now- there is a God sized hole that we all have in our lives, and there are certain areas that only he can feel. But we cannot deny the need for community and relationship- we were designed for it. And in many regards, we only heal from past relationship disasters through healthy relationship interactions.

Now, a healthy person may be on the receiving end of this and say "well...that is a load of poop! I don't believe a word you say!" That was not my reaction, however.

You may be wondering as the reader, why did it stick? Why did I believe it? Shouldn't I, a grown adult woman, know what is true of myself? Well, not necessarily. For starters, I was raised in an environment where my intuition, my feelings and perceptions were constantly in question. I was rarely validated, and thus I never learned the importance of validating myself. As I've said in many previous posts, my mother suffered from Borderline personality disorder. It was pervasive and permeated every corner of her life, and subsequently our lives. I was wired for dysfunction, to put it lightly. I tend to feel that I am responsible for the reactions and responses of others, because that's how I was raised. It was my fault if my mother flew into a rage. It was my fault if she was sad, or distressed or just didn't want to be a mom that day. As I got older, and TRIED to individuate and differentiate,  as children are meant to do, my every move, and intention was questioned if it did not suit her needs. This made me feel crazy. I was told, on a regular basis, how I ought to feel, that my feelings were not normal, that I was crazy and incapable of making decisions, etc. These were all projections, but I believed for the majority of my life that there was something was profoundly wrong with me on a very basic level. I was raised to believe I was incapable of handling life. 

Fast forward, and what do you get? I was terribly anxious about making decisions...even little decisions, like where to go to eat. I would look around at the reactions and responses of others who would be affected by my decision.  God seemed to strategically put people in my life who would challenge this and force me to make decisions, and I'm grateful he did! I believed the lie that I couldn't handle the outcome of my choices  and thus would just sit like a paralyzed goat, unable to move or think. 

In healthy relationships, this wouldn't  be a problem because I would be surrounded by people who believed in me more than I believed in myself and thus "called out the gold", so to speak. I began to slowly believe that I was capable of making decisions, and thus my anxiety diminished. I began to create a new history of making good decisions and being able to handle it if I made a poor one. The same has been true for trusting my perceptions. When you are raised in an environment where you are made to feel crazy for how you feel, think and process, when you are told that certain traumatizing events never happened and that you just made it up, you find it nearly impossible to trust your own perceptions and intuition, which is our  God-given gps system.  Again in healthy relationship, this wouldn't be a problem because I was surrounded by people who worked as hard to understand me as I did them. There was mutual respect and a desire to grow and be the best humans we can be. 

What happens when this is challenged? When you are told that your perceptions are wrong, your feelings are invalid, and therefore you don't deserve to be in relationship because you are somehow so terribly flawed? If there is a giant crack in your foundation, as I had in mine, you will feel profound shame, and perhaps even self hatred.  I believed the lie that on a very basic level, I was flawed and therefore unfit for relationship. That I didn't deserve kindness, comfort or nurturing. My big question at that time is "why do I believe this lie"? It had to come from somewhere. And sure enough...it did. Not just one time, but many times through the course of my life. I had been kicked out, for lack of a better term, and deemed unfit. Not worth fighting for. Easily discarded. It's no wonder I believed that I deserved the treatment from this friend at a time when I genuinely needed someone. 

I began to look at my shame and decided I didn't want it there anymore. I was kicking it out- no matter how long it took me. I began the slow and grueling process of dismantling shame. This is not an easy task, and for me required me to look at my past and get healing from some hurts that I was unknowingly carrying around. I believed the lie that if I showed all of myself, even my flawed parts, that I would be rejected. And I was- by humans. But I have never been rejected by God. And through this, I have found pieces of my identity that were hiding underneath my fear.  The fear of losing that caused me conform or become a chameleon. I see some areas where I began to hide my true self out of fear of being rejected or misunderstood. Times where I was teetering on the edge of allowing myself to be controlled for another persons comfort. Don't get me wrong- there is nothing worse than betrayal or rejection. It HURTS. It has been one of the most painful experiences of my life, but I also see some strength emerging that was not there before. I am no longer willing to NOT be fully myself. Brene Brown talks a lot about this in her book "I Thought It Was Just Me (But It Isn't!)". You cannot have courage without vulnerability, and I am not willing to pretend to be perfect in order to avoid rejection. I am not willing to be less of myself in order to make others happy or comfortable. 

So, how do we heal? How do we face our insecurities and fears and not hide from the world when that seems like the easiest solution? 

For starters, throughout this whole ordeal of losing one of my closest friends during a time of need, God has been faithfully speaking and ministering to me through dreams and scripture. I would often wake up with a verse floating through my mind. I have learned to plant myself there and craft prayers out of those verses. I would stay there until he dropped another thought or dream into my head. As Graham Cooke says "I'm going to get a lot of mileage out of this problem." I became determined to heal. To not walk around with this undercurrent of fear and shame. I have learned the value of process. That God isn't asking us to be stoic or perfect. I think the Psalms  are a perfect indication that we are permitted to process. That it is necessary! To cry out to God in our distress, lack, misery and as we turn ourselves to him, He heals and restores, and shows us more of himself. I will be honest and say that at times it has felt like what he has given me has not been enough. 

One thing that I have been SEVERELY challenged by is that God often gives me a word that is in direct opposition of how I feel. For example, the day after "the incident", I woke up to Psalm 63 floating in my mind, specifically the verse that talks about being satisfied with marrow and fatness. I thought "ha! yeah right...all I feel right now is loss and lack and absence and I'm afraid it might just consume me."  So I have learned, however begrudgingly, to follow His lead and even if all I can do is whisper the promise- I do. I declare it. I WILL be satisfied. I WILL lack no Good thing. It may not be today- but always eventually.

I would HIGHLY encourage you to buy or rent from the library Brene Brown's books...any of them. They are pure gold! 

MTHFR! (Things aren't always as they seem!)

No...I was not cursing...MTHFR is the acronym for methylenetetrahydrofolate reductase. It is a genetic mutation that can cause numerous problems depending on which mutation you have. After seeing my naturopath to help get my hormones back in order after the second miscarriage, she suggested I have the testing done to see if I carry the gene that is linked to recurrent miscarriages (among other things such as heart disease, strokes, clotting...the list seems endless!).  Basically, my body doesn't break down folic acid appropriately, which leads to the build up of homocysteine which is what causes all the dysfunction. Not just in my body, but can also cause neural tube defects in the growing baby. If we can bypass the folic acid and break it down FOR my body, we should be able to skip around the dysfunction and bring my body back into some sort of balance, and protect further pregnancies. 

Lo and behold...I was positive for the mutation most linked to recurrent miscarriage, and likely what caused the massive subchorionic hemorrhage in the last pregnancy. I was relieved and scared at the same time. Relieved that we had a cause and it wasn't just a "fluke", and scared because I began to wonder if we would ever be able to have more kids again. Having 2 back to back miscarriages had begun to cloud my mind with questions and fears and unknowns. 

I am a nerd at heart, and I secretly (or maybe not so secretly) really enjoy the research side of things, so I started researching this supplement and how it was supposed to benefit me. I'd read countless stories of people going from depressed and anxious to feeling "normal" for the first time in their entire life. It turns out, folate when broken down appropriately during the methylation process, is responsible for organizing your neurotransmitters-mainly serotonin and dopamine Who knew?! I however, did not have such pleasant side effects. I got a massive headache, followed by intense anxiety and irritability after just a few days. I stopped the L methylfolate, and started doing some more digging. This is supposed to be good for me, and clearly, based on testing, I need it...right? So, why do I feel like crap???

I emailed my naturopath, who advised me to cut way back on the supplement to see if that would help. Folate is technically a B vitamin, and can be stimulating to some people (me!). Ugh. Ok, so I cut way back and still felt foggy, irritable, anxious, and unable to sleep. I cut it out completely for a few days and started researching again. Apparently, long term use of high doses of B12 and other B vitamins, can cause a potassium deficiency. I have been taking large doses of B 12 for over a year due to the pyroluria and subsequent B deficiency. When one starts mehtylfolate, it drastically increases the demand for potassium within the cells causing hypokalemia (low potassium) and about a million different possible side effects. Since I had informed my naturopath that I was still feeling yucky, and had not heard back, I decided to get a potassium supplement and just hope for the best. I started taking it and then started taking the l methylfolate- no side effects! Yay! So...I am hoping to steadily increase the dosage of the methylfolate to what I'm actually supposed to be taking. 

I'll be honest- I did not come at this whole process with a great attitude. I've been in such a rush to heal and move on that every little upset to that plan has tipped me over...not a great place to be. I've been frustrated that it's taking so long to heal. I've been angry that my body wasn't responding too well to the supplement, and that is ONE MORE DELAY to adding to our family. I've just been frustrated- even a bit hopeless at times. But, once I sat back and just accepted that this is where we are at,  that it's taking longer than I would like, I've been a much easier person to be around. I've realized that in my rush to move forward, I haven't been enjoying the day to day- and that's not really ok with me. There is so much good in every day. So much to be grateful for, that we often miss out on it when we are so focused on all the is NOT working. Well, there's a lot that IS Working, and I think that deserves more of my focus and attention. 

I have no idea what the future holds...and I've learned to just take things one day at a time. Trusting in God's perfect love and Father-ship- that he will be completely faithful to bring us to a place of abudance. Not lack. 

For every problem...

Well, I guess it's about time I write about this here since it's kind of been all consuming for some weeks now.  I found out I was pregnant again in the middle of March. I started out very fearful- would I miscarry again? What if I couldn't have more children? Could I handle another miscarriage so soon? But…it was too late- I was already on that ride whether I was really ready to be or not. Because of my fear, I had asked the OB's office to do repeat HCG's at the beginning to ease my mind. It did the exact opposite because my numbers were "lower than they would like them to be" (although I later found out it was only because I was much earlier than we thought and the numbers were well within the normal range.) Because I was new to this particular practice- no doctor called me back. In fact, the office never even called me back after telling me my numbers weren't normal and we would just have to wait and see. Panic ensued. I was immediately right back in that ultrasound room where I learned that the second baby had died. It was not a pretty day.

Finally, however, one of the OB's called me back and assured me my numbers were well within the normal range for where I was at, and the only real way we could determine the health of the pregnancy was to do an internal ultrasound (aka transvaginal)…sounds fun eh?

That was at 5 weeks, so we really couldn't see anything besides the gestational sac (which is the first "structure" to develop inside the womb). Everything looked healthy and I was told to be seen in 2 weeks to see the development. Well, the day of my appointment, I started bleeding. Not just a little spot, but a full on gush of blood. I was terrified. I could not believe this was happening again. I thought for sure I had just miscarried so I called the OB's office and they got me in that day.

I had prepared myself for the worst and fully expected to see nothing on the ultrasound. But, to our surprise, the baby was there with a strong heart beat, measuring 7 1/2 weeks- right on schedule. They also saw the area of bleeding. They couldn't tell at that point where it was coming from, but the most likely cause is called a subchorionic bleed or hemorrhage and occurs when the egg first implants into the uterus and the placenta and amniotic sac starts to form- it doesn't attach all the way and the blood vessels leak inside the uterus. I was told to keep my fingers crossed, rest and we would just have to wait and see.

Because of the recent miscarriage- I was terrified of losing this one too. It definitely hit on some nerves emotionally and spiritually. Why was this happening again? It felt unfair because seeing blood on a daily basis is not only abnormal, but a bit triggering when you've lost a pregnancy in that way already. I wrestled pretty good with this for almost two weeks. I didn't realize it in the moment, but I was trying to bargain and perform so that God would give me a good outcome- yet, I know that this is largely based in a lie. I have done nothing to deserve God's grace and goodness in my life, and this situation is not punishment for any wrongdoing- yet, my automatic fall back was to perform so as not to experience another loss or disappointment. It was a rough two weeks because I desperately wanted to fall back on that performance, yet I knew nothing good would come of it. This could work out fine and it would have nothing to do with me, or it could end in the worst way and it would have nothing to do with how good I am.

I had another massive bleed at around 9 weeks, and ended up going to the ER because I just kept bleeding for hours and was afraid I was hemorrhaging. The baby looked good, but the bleed had actually GROWN and was completely surrounding the baby. I felt completely helpless. But, I had a pretty strong feeling that God was working on something in my heart because I could not rest. I felt restless and helpless. Not a good combination. Something needed to be settled. I knew it had something to do with performance, but I still couldn't put my finger on it. What it finally came down to was that I wanted God to do what I wanted, and I was not trusting that no matter what the outcome was- good or bad- that He would provide for me in every way that I needed. I also decided at this point that I wasn't NOT going to celebrate the pregnancy and treat it like any other pregnancy just because I was afraid of miscarriage. A million things could go wrong at ANY time during pregnancy- I wasn't going to deny myself the joy of that out of fear of losing.

I'm not entirely sure how it happened, but after a prayer time with a friend in which I asked for healing of my physical body, we also asked that I would understand what the Holy Spirit was praying for so that I could begin to agree with him. I saw a picture of Jesus holding one hand and the Holy Spirit holding my other hand and I knew I had a choice- I could grab hold of both of them, or I could hold onto this notion that the outcome of my situation had something to do with my performance and continue to try and control things. I decided to let go of that notion and grab ahold of the the only one that I knew would not fail me- even if this ended poorly- and that was Jesus.  I wouldn't say it was immediate, but I definitely noticed over the next few days just an immense peace wash over me. I knew that God was walking me through this one step at a time. I didn't know the outcome but  I felt protected and covered and fathered in a way that was incredibly intimate I can't fully explain.

**You can see below what are called placental lakes- the small black circle and the large black areas surrounding the gestational sac and baby is all blood. In a normal ultrasound- it would be grey indicating nothing else in the uterus but baby, placenta and sac.**

                                 *** WARNING- the next part is somewhat graphic***

I went in for my weekly scan at 11 weeks and again the baby looked great. I could see it wiggling around, heart fluttering away. The bleed was still there and was still significant enough that the doctor didn't feel I was in the clear yet. We all know the 12 week mark is one to be celebrated because it usually means the safe zone…every week felt like victory to me.

Saturday night, I crawled in bed and noticed I was having a bit more cramping than normal, but it wasn't painful. I had been bleeding this whole time, including clots, so when I passed some- it was not surprising to me. Over the next hour, the clotting and cramping intensified but it still wasn't BAD pain so I tried to go back to sleep. Well, it just grew exponentially worse from there. I whipped out my fetal doppler and immediately found the baby's heartbeat- so I figured this was just going to be my weekly blood emptying episode. The cramping intensified and I was unable to sleep through the pain, at which point  I knew something was wrong. Again I found the heartbeat so that consoled me a little bit- but the pain suddenly became so intense that I couldn't walk fully. It was 1245 in the morning by this time so I woke up my husband and told him I needed him to call his parents and have them come so he could take me to the doctor. They were there within 30 minutes to watch our 3 year old, and by then the pain was unbearable.

Having had one full term live birth, and a miscarriage, I have to say the main difference is that with the live birth there were breaks between contraction. With this- it was just one giant excruciating contraction that lasted for more than 2 hours. We hurried to the ER and were told there were no rooms available and would have to wait. So, there I sat bleeding and in so much pain I just had to sit there and cry because the only other option was to pass out. We waited. Believe it or not the pain got worse. I literally wanted to die in that moment because the pain was so intense- but it suddenly stopped and I felt a gush. I made my husband rush me to the bathroom, which thankfully was not occupied.

That gush was my water breaking- I felt something come out into the toilet so I reached down into the toilet bowl and  found what ended up being the baby. I picked it up and held it's precious little body in my hand. I can't fully describe what I felt in that moment. I felt incredible love and amazement- the baby was perfectly formed (although not yet viable outside the womb). It had every toe, every finger, tiny little lips and was curled up. I also felt immense sorrow- here was this sweet little thing that I have anticipated and prayed for- just lifeless in my hand. There was nothing to be done. There really are no words for that. I called my husband in and unfortunately didn't really have time to prepare him for what he was about to see- but somehow he knew. We just sat there in amazement and shock.

Somehow they had a room available for me immediately after that and the pain was still a 12/10 so I was given morphine. The rest of the early morning was spent doing an ultrasound to make sure I had passed everything, checking my labs to make sure I hadn't lost too much blood, and then I was sent home.

I felt that somehow- even without my knowing- God had prepared my heart. I was not fearful or anxious. I felt immense peace. The kind of peace that makes no sense for what you've just experienced. In that moment when I held the baby in my hands- I had an overwhelming feeling that God was holding me much the same. He too was weeping over my loss. That brought me so much comfort.

I am grieved- of course. I won't pretend that it doesn't hurt- because it does. It hurts badly. There is so much of our heart and mind and body that goes into having a child that to say the loss is insignificant is unthinkable. It is very significant. My plans that were shaped by "I'll be this pregnant at such and such time" have been changed in the matter of hours. I now have to go back and un-tell everyone I told. That is a painful thing to have to do. Our 3 year old asked me the next morning- as she does every day- "Did you sleep? Did the baby grow while you slept?" I was not prepared for that response or what I would say if she asked me. I just burst into tears. It was hard to tell her that the baby was all gone. Now her daily question is "did the baby fall out? Are you gonna get a new one?" Apparently she was attached the the little bean too...

There is this idea in Christian communities and churches sometimes that to have faith means we don't feel- fear, doubt, anxiety, anger. There is this religious notion that when bad things happen you did something wrong- as if we are living to appease an angry God. Well, if that is something you happen to believe- I would like to challenge that with the fact that punishment was done away with on the day that Jesus bore every sin, iniquity and disease upon the cross. That is done away with completely. We are not being punished when things go wrong. That used to be my frame of mind whenever the you-know-what would hit the fan. Now, even if I struggle to get there, the thought has become something more like this: If I am in Christ, then so are my circumstances. The word says that Jesus is seated with the Father in heavenly places. So, therefore- so is my problem because me and my problem are fully seated in Christ. So, if that is true- then what does this mean for my problem? And then it becomes a time of exploring that with God. Again- this doesn't necessarily dull the grief- that will be a process within a process- but I know that I am not without hope. That my future and hope are held in the Father's heart for me and I can trust in that.