A Continuation (My Story Part 2)

In my last post, I wrote about the loss of our babies in February 2013. I wrote about the events leading up to it, the emotions I experienced during and days after. I shared the pain and suffering my husband and I endured. I shared that this was my story. It was written for me and I would not change it. I wish I could tell you that is where it ended. However, there is so much more.

Weeks after our first miscarriage, I began to experience what I would consider severe anxiety attacks. I struggled to be around people, I never wanted to talk about my pain, I pretended everything was ok and I had moved on. I wanted to make people believe this loss was not a big deal. (Though I truly do not think anyone fell for it).

But deep down inside,

I was broken.

I was utterly shattered.

My heart was angry at the Lord for taking these precious babes from me. I was angry at my husband for not understanding what I was going through or the emotions I was feeling. I was angry at my friends and family for not being there and never knowing what to say. I expected so much from my people and yet I never gave them any indication that I needed their love and support. I needed their wisdom but did not want it. I was also angry at myself for not allowing the Lord to heal my heart. I struggled to read the Word and ask for wisdom and healing.

These attacks would start out small. I would get upset over something minute and before I knew it, I was crying so hard I lost all sense of reality. I could not stop or get control of myself. I would crawl into a ball on the floor and just lie there in anguish.

Have any of you ever felt this way?

My husband struggled to understand what was going on with me. He struggled to find ways to bring me comfort. He would get angry at me for not telling him what was wrong and why I was having this emotional breakdown. But the truth is…

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I did not know what I was feeling or how to name my emotions.

I did not know how to control my tears.

I did not know how to calm myself down.

I simply allowed the emotions to swallow me up. To consume every aspect of my being.

This went on for four months. One weekend, we drove to Los Angeles to visit family, and at one point during the weekend, we had some alone time in the hotel room. This was our second month trying to get pregnant after our loss. And this weekend happened to be the weekend I was ovulating. I remember in a moment of intimacy with my husband, I couldn’t keep going. I found myself in the corner of the room, on my knees, with my head buried in a pillow, screaming and crying so loud, my head was throbbing with pain. Nathan had no idea how to help me. He knew the two things I used often in moments like this was my IPod and my verse flip book. He quickly grabbed both, knelt beside me and simply sat next to me, rubbing my back and asking me to breathe. I put the song “Nearer My God to Thee” by Fernando Ortega, on repeat and slowly rocked back and forth and listened to my husbands breathing until I was able to calm down. He said to me:

“In these moments I have no idea how to help you. I want to but I don’t know how”

“It’s like, it’s not even you”

It was at that moment that I knew I needed help. I was being attacked. CONSTANTLY. And it had to stop. I was allowing Satan into my heart, mind, and spirit, and he was overtaking every aspect of my being.

I knew the choices in front me I needed to make: Allow the enemy to continue to enslave me to my emotions, fears and lies I was believing or I could fight.  I could go to the doctor and get on medication for depression and anxiety or I could seek out counseling. I chose the latter. I sought out our post abortion counselor at the pregnancy clinic. Asking for help was the last thing I wanted to do, however, I knew I needed to if I ever wanted to be healed.

For 6 months, I met with Glenda once a week. We walked through a Bible study that was so hard and yet so incredibly life-giving and healing. We walked through the grieving process. The steps each person takes when they suffer a loss. The difference is many people never fully go through them. Glenda (along with this study) made sure I walked through them. We processed my grief together. Through conversation and tears. What was amazing was I had someone who had been there. Who had suffered a loss and we were able to walk through each step together. I learned so much from her and she learned much from me as well. By the end of August, when we finally finished the study, my heart was mending. The Lord used that study, Glenda, and most importantly His word to speak truth into my life. To remind me of His goodness, His power, and His faithfulness.

There were many things I did not understand. Though I came to a place of acceptance and peace in the unknown. I trusted the Lord to know what was best for my life. For our future with children. I trusted in his timing.

Through all this emotional and spiritual healing, I was also receiving physical healing for chronic injuries I had since high school. Between physical therapy and massage therapy, my body was growing stronger and beginning to heal but I was having major issues with my knees. At the beginning of September, I saw a surgeon and he recommended surgery since the other methods had not been as effective as we had hoped. It was a hard decision to make. We knew we were moving at the end of the year so the surgery would need to happen fast. We decided this was the best plan of action, so we scheduled it for October 1st.


Ashlee Karasch