This doesn't happen very often...

Sunday was a rough day for me.  I'd been sick all week and taking care of the kids by myself.  I hadn't had much sleep the night before.  In my tired and weakened state, I went to a Sunday School lesson about Christ in the garden of Gethsemane and I was a little bit emotional.

We read one of my favorite scriptures of all time:  Luke 22: 41-42

And he was withdrawn from them about a stone’s cast, and kneeled down, and prayed,



Saying, Father, if thou be willing, remove this cup from me: nevertheless not my will, but thine, be done.

It took me back to a time when I relied on this scripture a lot.

It seems like forever ago, but it's only been 7 years.  After 2 years of trying to conceive and feeling like a failure as a woman, I got pregnant.  It was one of the happiest days of my life, and from the second I found out about the pregnancy, it was a baby.  No blastocyte, embryo or fetus.  Baby.

I kept my news to myself until I was 10 weeks, and just two days before my first doctor's appointment I finally told a few family members.  Then I went to see my doctor and he did a dating ultrasound.  I will remember that moment for the rest of my life, because my womb was completely empty.  I felt like my heart was ripped out of my body.

Turns out that it was an ectopic pregnancy.  And in my case, the doctor believed that my body had already miscarried but some of the tissue was attached to my fallopian tube and was still growing.  I didn't have to have surgery, but I did need to have a "termination."

So a few days later, once we had confirmed that there was no viable pregnancy, I drove myself down to the local cancer clinic to have the methotrexate injections that would abort my unborn child.  I remember lying in bed the night before my appointment, praying.  I wondered how I could possibly go through with it.  I begged and pleaded with God for things to be different.  I cried until I didn't have any tears left.  But I remembered that scripture in Luke, and it gave me courage and strength.  To know that Jesus, the only person to lead a sinless life, also had to do something that he didn't want to do was such a comfort.  That He had the grace to submit himself to the will of his Father was a lesson.  And actually being able to go to the clinic and have the injections felt like a miracle.  I cried the whole time, but I did it.

I still think about my almost-baby every time Dylan celebrates his birthday, and remember that I should have a child who is 2 years older.  But it is without any bitterness.  Just a little bit of sadness and regret.  Because I know that I'm not the only person to face something that seemed too hard to do.  And I know that the experience made me stronger and made me appreciate motherhood even more.

Our wonderful teacher in Sunday School apologized for pointing out Jesus' "weakness," but to me, that brief plea to do things another way if possible is one of the most beautiful parts of the atonement.  As Christians, we celebrate the divinity of Jesus Christ all the time.  But I like to dwell on his humanity every once in a while.  I love knowing that He felt exactly like I felt, because I knew that I wasn't alone on that day.

I'm still crying about it.