This is my Marilen's story. I call her my Marilen because she is more than a friend, more than a sister in Christ, more than a voice of reason, wisdom, and faith. She and I are united in ways many others never could be, and we are glad of that. We share circumstances of trauma surrounding the birth of our children that fortunately most parents are shielded from. But like many many others, we have experienced hardship that we battle with daily to see goodness, joy, and love, and we have chosen to share our stories. The Lord works in mysterious ways, but there is no mystery in the way He brought Marilen and I together. Please join me in applauding this courageous woman for sharing her story, and in prayer for continued healing and strength.
I am a mom. I have twin boys who will celebrate their first birthday in just two weeks. I am grateful that I've been here to help them grow.
A year ago I had multiple surgeries following their delivery. All freak complications from my c-section. It happened in a way that I didn't get to meet or hold my sons for several days. I spent time in the intensive care unit, a place that rarely sees obstetrics patients. Twelve days in the hospital, three surgeries, multiple blood transfusions and an emergency hysterectomy. In the months that followed, I had anxiety and phantom pain in my abdomen and it was labeled as PTSD.
Very few people know my story. Our close friends and family know. Others know there were complications but no details. Truthfully I didn't know many details while in the hospital. I know my husband lived between the ICU where I was and the NICU where our sons were. I know he told me he was thinking he’d be raising our sons without me. I know he prayed more than he’s ever prayed before. I know I woke up in the ICU after surgeries with my sister beside me crying and I wasn't sure why. I know I was rushed from CT scan to operating room twice. I know I was bleeding inside. I know I had very little blood pressure. I now know I had more blood pooled in my abdomen than circulating in my vessels.
I’ve been crying a lot recently. Maybe it’s emotions because my sons are crawling and growing and just really happy boys. Maybe I’m mourning the loss of my uterus – the nurses told me it would happen and I dismissed it. But maybe that’s what it is. Maybe I’m just now processing all that happened a year ago because only now is my husband able to talk about some of the details. Maybe now is the time for me to stop being angry at God for my journey and start living with more gratitude that I was able to have this journey at all. I feel like I’m on the cusp of joy. Not that I haven’t known joy for the past year – I’ve just been bogged down with a little sorrow.
“When I thought ‘my foot slips,’ your steadfast love, O Lord, held me up. When the cares of my heart are many, your consolations cheer my soul.” Psalm 94:18-19
I write this so that my story will be known. I don’t have to carry it hidden anymore afraid to own it. God knows this is my story and better yet – He’s given me more life to live and stories to gather.
Romans 5:3-5 MSG “There’s more to come: We continue to shout our praise even when we’re hemmed with troubles, because we know how troubles can develop passionate patience in us, and how that patience in turn forges the tempered steel of virtue, keeping us alert for whatever God will do next. In alert expectancy such as this, we’re never left feeling shortchanged. Quite the contrary – we can’t round up enough containers to hold everything God generously poured into our lives through the Holy Spirit!”