My Experience With God Part Two: My Personal Hell

Often, in the past, I have wondered what hell would be like- if it did exist. I honestly don't believe in hell now because I have already lived mine.

To completely understand I have to give you some back story about the last 3 years of my life. As you know, the past two have been filled with the grief and loss of my five pregnancies. But my grief actually started a year earlier and was actually much more acute and more complicated because my first loss occurred within days of my losing my mom.

Three years ago, my mom, my best friend, was diagnosed with terminal lung cancer. She was the unfortunate person who had the rarest form of lung cancer. Small-cell lung cancer and, when left untreated, most people only live 3 months. The best odds were 1-1/2 years, tops. When I entered grief counseling, 6 months after her diagnosis, the therapist asked me to use a couple words to describe my mom and her role in the family. It was simple- she was our foundation. Our cornerstone.

After making the 8-hour, monthly trips between my parents home and mine for 1-1/2 years, going with her to the salon so she could shave off her hair so she she wouldn't have to watch it fall into the shower drain anymore, and hugging through the highs and crying through the lows. And finally, after trying to construct a picture of my life without her in it- the doctor finally said the cancer was out running her. Outrunning the treatments. It was time to let go and let hospice take over. The doctor told us that it would likely be over within 10 days.

So that is what we did. We set her up with hospice and tried to make it the most comfortable days of her life. There is nothing that she couldn't request that we wouldn't do or give. Encouraging her to eat all her favorite foods, whatever we could to make her smile. After all that, there was nothing left to do but hold her hand and pray.

During all of this, I made a trip home for my first u/s. This is when my doctors confirmed my first miscarriage. They thought that maybe my dates were wrong but I knew it was a blighted ovum. I will never forget looking at that empty u/s screen knowing there was going to be no picture to show my mom. I knew the dates were right but they insisted on blood draws. The end result was the same. There was no baby. There was going to be no June birth. And there was no mom to comfort me, or mom hug to help me get through it. I had a few precious days left with my mom and I left her to find out this news. When I made it back to my parents house she had slipped into a trace like state and could not longer respond to our words or touch. To even think about it now has me sobbing with tears- the pain still cuts me deeply.

My aunt and my sisters were all there, in my parents home. I suddenly realized I was living the worst possible nightmare I could have ever imagined for myself, I realized this was my hell. I looked at my aunt and said, "This is like a nightmare- I am living in my own personal hell right now- I want to wake up and can't." I knew I was going to lose my mom and my baby within the same week. As fate would have it I started my miscarriage three days after she died and it lasted about a week. I was trapped in my own personal hell.

All I kept thinking was, "How is this happening to me?... God must have mistaken me for someone else because I can't do this... I can't make it." Surely, God was mistaken. Seriously mistaken about what I could emotionally take. I told one of my good friends, who had been supporting me as best she could, "I know that people say God knows your limits but I think he has mistaken me for someone else. Seriously, I don't see how I am going to make it. How can I go through all of this without my mom? This is way beyond me- beyond my limits."

We came home to re-group before going to my mom's home state and town for her memorial service. While I was driving alone- I was conversing and crying with God about how He had mistaken me- how could have He thought I was that strong of a person? I told Him that He had overestimated me and my emotional strength. I wanted to know what he was thinking. I happened to look over to my left and across the road was little church, a church I had driven by hundreds of times without really noticing it. The sign in front of it said, "God knows your limits."

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Added 11/03

Niobe, in the comment part, brought up a point that I didn't mention how I felt when reading that sign. Which brings up the point that you, other readers, may wonder too- here is what I came up with:

Niobe-

I am not really sure how I felt- I guess I was more surprised than anything. Then I remember thinking "Okay, I hear you but I still don't like you. And this still sucks and is unfair." Since then I have tried to remember that I need to keep my faith. I still try to remember that sign and think God is with me even when I can't feel Him. Perhaps it's like the Footprints poem- I couldn't or can't feel His presence because I am being carried- does that makes sense?

Looking back, I can see that I was strong enough but only because I am physically here. I still can't tell you how I made it through and dealt with everything. But I don't think I was underestimating God, I think I was underestimating myself.