The hardest job

Every job has its pros and cons, but some have more impact than others.

Growing up, I thought working on the farm was hard work. Milking cows, unloading small squares and picking rocks were some of the manual labor jobs I had to do on a regular basis throughout my youth.

Becoming an adult, after I graduated college and got a job, I realized that, while no school and no homework was nice, I had to pay for health and car insurance, rent and taxes. Overall, life was good, but I, like all young adults, learned some life lessons about navigating the real world that nobody tells you about until you need to do it. Nobody likes paying for these things, but it still has to be done.

Becoming a wife was also a learning curve. I think it is safe to say Jason and I both learned more about each other and ourselves after we were married. We were both single for a while and had grown accustomed to our own habits and ways of doing things, and we tend to forget people do things differently when this is the only way you have done it up to that point in your life. Thankfully, it did not take long for us to fall into a new routine. Life was different, but a good different.

Becoming a mother was a big learning curve. Again, this was new territory for Jason and me, and we learned as we went. Parts of that role were more enjoyable than others; kids are cute and fun, but cleaning up their messy rooms and cleaning up after them when they got sick was not something I enjoyed doing by any stretch. But I still did it because it is part of being a mom. Kids fight, make messes and do not want to eat their vegetables. Those parts of being a parent are expected.

One part of being a parent that I never expected to do, and has been hands down the hardest thing I have ever had to do, is plan a funeral for our child.

Up until a few months ago, Jason and I were expecting a fourth child; that is, until we had a miscarriage. Our due date was this past week.

It was late last year when we found out our baby no longer had a heartbeat. I was 19 weeks along, and, because I always go into labor prior to my due date, I would say I was halfway along. Since I was in my second trimester, the doctor wanted me to be in the hospital to pass the baby. Thankfully, Jason was with me every step of the way. I did not know you could cry that much in one day. I thought eventually I would run out of tears.

It was the following Friday when we held a proper burial for our baby boy at our local cemetery. That was the first night I did not cry myself to sleep since finding out the news. It was such a strange feeling, that first week. I did not know you could love someone so much that you had never met.

Then, it hit me: Is this how much God loves all of us? He shares our joy and our sorrows and will always be there. He physically is not here with us, but I know that He is here with us. Jason and I agreed that we are so thankful to have had our faith to help guide us through our journey.

After having each one of our children, we learned something new, and this one was no different, even though we never got to see him open his eyes or hear his voice.

For the past several months, I have debated whether or not to share this. But in the end, I decided to go for it — not for your sympathy, but for those who have also gone through this situation, to know they are not alone. Miscarriages and stillbirths are something almost no one talks about. Prior to ours, I knew of a few couples who also had the same experience, but after we told some of our friends and family who knew we were expecting, they told us they or another couple they knew also had a miscarriage. Our doctor told us that one in five pregnancies results in a miscarriage or stillbirth. So, it is more common than one might expect, and yet, you never hear anyone talk about the subject. It is no doubt a sensitive subject, but just like all death, it happens.

Since that happened, I have really tried to physically do more with my kids. Instead of just watching them play, I join them in their game or activity. Life is precious, and it is what you make of it.