Womanly Wednesday: A Guest Post On Infant Loss and Infidelity

Thanks for stopping by for this week’s Womanly Wednesday!  This is one of my favorite parts of the week where different women bravely and vulnerably share their stories.  If you know Aly Voigt, this week’s guest poster,  you know that she is one of the bravest, strongest women in the whole world.  In the last three years  her world has just about fallen apart, and the way she has continued to honestly pursue the Lord in her grief and her joys is beautiful.  It’s an honor to have her sharing her story on the blog today.  Read more by Aly and her story on her blog, Sookie Jane! 

I wasn’t allowed to date until I was sixteen. Sixteen in my book meant sixteen. Not sixteen and one month or even sixteen and one week. It was on the very day that I turned sixteen that we went on our first date. My heart was done for. Signed, sealed, and delivered.

Roll time ahead seven years and he and I became one in a day that I will forever regard as one of the best. Surrounded by our people, in the perfect white dress and long bouncy curls, a band played into the wee hours as we innocently danced the night away. It felt euphoric and everything I had once dreamed my wedding day to be. Beautiful, invincible, and captivatingly fulfilled.

Life fell into place. Simple and perfect. We started careers and retirement accounts for our future. We bought our home in the suburbs with rooms to grow into and a school district to be proud of. I was living my American dream.

It wasn’t always roses. We had our ups and downs, our share of disagreements and disappointment, mistakes were made, and moments where we had to give and receive forgiveness. We weren’t perfect – neither he, nor I, nor we. But I adored him, felt safe and comforted in his arms, and loved him as his forever.

Roll time ahead four years after we vowed ‘until death do us part,’ a faint little line made us a family. I remember the details of that day, it is engrained into memory. As a little girl, I dreamed of becoming a momma and that very line (and the three subsequent, just to be sure) meant there was a life within me. Elated and overjoyed, this was my life.

Our pregnancy began like a perfectly written book. It was smooth and mesmerizing as we imagined life as a family. And then abruptly, the wind drifted from our sails. An ultrasound at 12 weeks began a series of up and down appointments, tests, scans, and heart wrenching discussions. Hope for our unborn child waxed and waned with the highs and lows taking my emotions along for the ride.  By 24 weeks, we faced the unbearable reality that despite the wonders of medicine, we could not give our unborn child a quality life. It was surreal. Pregnant, I could feel her every kick and wiggle yet I was preparing for her death.

As my belly grew there were no baby showers to be had, no nursery to be painted, no life to be planned. Exhausted. Broken. Scared. Angry and confused. Yet, so deeply in love with the one within my womb.  She was mine and I was hers despite it all, forever. And so, we celebrated each day as she formed in my womb, created memories to honor her life, and prayed that He would give us time with her and peace for her. Oh did I ever pray. Despite not being able to heal her, I wanted her to be born alive so that I could tell her that her momma loves her. And yet, I never wanted to see her struggle, gasp, or feel anything but warmth and comfort. Peace, God give her peace.

On March 19, 2013, my Addalyn Lane was born and a love that I have never experienced washed over me. I took in my child, memorizing her every feature. Her long fingers, soft pale skin, round little cheeks, a chin like mine, and her precious cleft lip. I breathed her in. As she lay upon my chest, she opened her eyes and looked into mine.  Over and over I told her how much her momma loves her. And will forever. And in a moment that came all too soon, she closed her eyes and in our arms, passed peacefully from this life into the next.

The days, weeks, and into the months following her birth and death were broken. Tears and anger. There were screams and unstoppable sobs. There was emptiness, confusion, sadness, and hurt. Oh did it ever hurt. It was dark and deep and days I would never wish to relive. And yet there was joy and remembrance and pride that she is mine.  Forever her momma.

We drifted in those months, he and I. As we both grieved, our marriage felt the effects and we became two ships passing in the night. All energy was consumed in just being that there was no more to give. I turned to grief books, a support group, and a counselor. I needed something, anything, to say that I was going to be ok. That somehow, someday life would be ok.

And yet there was more. Six months after giving birth and holding my daughter after her spirit had long since left, one word shattered what was left of my world. Infidelity. A series of lies began to surface and corroded all that I once believed to be real and true. Of us. Of him. Of the future. Betrayal. Disbelief. How? Why? Why ever but why now? Begging and pleading to endure no more, I watched as he drove away leaving our life behind. In one fell swoop, my American dream crumbled. I was alone. Like a child out at sea, my arms and legs tread with all their might but there was no energy left to give. They were weary and weak but the waves continued to crash leaving me struggling to keep my head above water. Bobbing, I gasped for hope, for healing, for the pain to cease.

It was dark and empty and depleted, my lowest of lows. From the outside unassuming but within, my soul was drowning. The little voice in my head said I wasn’t good enough. Not good enough to be a mom and not good enough to be a wife. If only I was __. Fill in the blank and I probably felt it. Prettier. Funnier. More outgoing. Stronger. Braver. Skinner. Worthy. More aware, loving, capable, enough. Anything. I battled me, tearing myself up and breaking myself down. The waves were more than I could bear.

But life didn’t pause for me to catch my breath, time just kept moving. And so did I, a figment of my former self. Nothing felt right or whole or real. Alone in my car, I sobbed as I listened the words of a song that had been shared with me.

Let me see redemption win
Let me know the struggle ends
That you can mend a heart
That’s frail and torn
I wanna know a song can rise
From the ashes of a broken life
And all that’s dead inside can be reborn
Cause I’m worn
(Worn by Tenth Avenue North)

My young adult years had been filled with contentment and while I never stopped believing, my faith had become stagnant. Impersonal. Without a body to nurture me, growth from within, or a pursing passion, I had shallow roots. As the words penetrated, I sobbed tears unlike any I had sobbed before. I sat alone and began to beg God to take my struggle, my pain, my hurt. I begged, pleaded, and from the pit of my weary soul, surrendered. The one whom I once thought to be my forever could not heal me. Though I tried. Nor could I heal myself. I could not take away the hurt. I could not overcome the pain, the lies, the grief, the betrayal. It wasn’t going to be through him or me, I needed Jesus. As I surrendered, I began to feel the weight on my shoulder lift. My arms and legs could tread easier and the crashing waves began to cease.

Slowly, I began to pursue Him over focusing on me. Trusting that I could not give myself peace, but He could. And He would. As I clung to, studied, and nurtured my faith, little by little my head began to surface and I began to catch my breath.

It hasn’t been without difficult days but, He is carrying me to shore with my feet resting upon solid ground.

“For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the Lord, “plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.”  (Jeremiah 29:11)

For I know. Not for Aly knows.  But for I know. I am being redeemed because indeed He knows.

To Him I am worthy. And to Him I am enough.

And friends, so are you.

Aly writes beautifully about her journey to find joy and contentment in the midst of loss on her blog, Sookie Jane.  Make sure to head on over and check out more of her posts!  If you would be interested in writing a Womanly Wednesday guest post of your own, please send me an email with your information and a summary of what you might like to share.  It would be an honor to have your voice and your story on the blog!

I’m linking back to this post at Imparting Grace, Embracing His Will, A Life In Balance, Purposeful Faith, A Fresh Start On A Budget, What Joy Is Mine, The Beauty In His Grip, Strangers And Pilgrims On Earth, Soul Survival, Me Coffee and Jesus, Women With Intention, A Little R & R, A Wise Woman Builds Her Home, Coffee For Your Heart,Serving Joyfully, 3D Lessons 4 Life, The Deliberate Mom, Dance With Jesus,Missional Women, Busy Being Blessed, Live Free Thursdays, Whole Hearted Wednesdays, Thriving Thursdays, Christian Mommy Bloggers, Still Saturdays, and Modest Mondays.