Warning: contains reference to God, faith and christianity. If this is not for you, you have been warned.
On to the Blog Post!
I dreamt about Emmet for the first time last night.
A little brown, curly haired kid with blue grey eyes. He was wearing navy blue I think, but the rest of my dream has vanished from the grip of my memory.
Source: Survivingmiscarrigetogether. How I imagine Emmet and his great Grandad David together. Walking together in heaven hand in hand. The circle in the the top right is a tyre swing. Grandad Dave made me one when I was little to hang in our back garden. Emmet has his bunny.
I would like to believe it is a sign that he is near, but I also know that I have a vivid imagination and Emmet is pretty much all I have thought about this last week (by week read ‘ also since I first thought I might be pregnant last October’…)
My precious little flame was bound to crop up eventually in my brain’s nightly ramblings.
But I woke up this morning with a smile and I felt peaceful. I am going to try to hold on to that feeling for as long as possible today.
I like to think of pebbles as signs that he is near, but in my rational mind I neither believe in signs nor the possibility of life after death, my rational mind tells me to reject God as a fictional construct. I did for most of my life, but here I find myself thinking about taking flowers to the Lady chapel later today.
I hope though. I hope really hard. I try to visit the church but I haven’t been in months, I don’t go to Sunday services, I go when I can and when I need too.
If I need to find God I have to do it on my own. My faith is shakey. My foundations are shakey, and I sometimes feel like I want to believe in heaven and angels more than I actually do.
I was brought up with conflicting influences. On the one hand we used to go to church and hear all about heaven, on the other hand, my family believe we are all worm food and that is it.
I don’t have the answers.
I envy both the unshakeable faiths I witness.
That of those I know with a firm belief that He is good, and that of my Mother, who firmly believes that He is ‘bullshit’.
I question my faith.
Is it right?
Is it just?
What about all the awful things people do in the name of religion?
I mean, what if I’m wrong?
Do I want to indoctrinate any kids I have, what if my faith negatively effects their lives like my trans friend who’se christian parents are some of the worst bigots I have the misfortune to know?
But then, I know atheists and agnostics, Buddhists and members of other faiths, and some of them are bigots too.
Bigotry isn’t defined by one faith or set of people.
And I hope that I am not among their number.
I feel that faith is a matter of choice, and sorry God, but You, and Your place in my life has to come after the wellbeing of those I have around me on earth.
Some may say that makes me a shit Christian.
Ehhh. It’s my life and my faith.
I admire the strong faiths of others, but I also know that showing that level of devotion, would for me, feel like a lie.
I was brought up with ‘Christian values’ (whatever that actually means) in a strongly Atheist household (they all anti-Converted.)
I had a child like faith in God until I lost it aged about 9. I was a scared little girl, and I couldn’t work out why a God would inflict the awful things I was experiencing onto my head. I remember I wrote a letter saying I didn’t believe in him anymore because he did so many mean things. I don’t know what happened to it. Up until then I had thought of God as a friend, someone to talk to.
I still struggle with the question of what He does.
I don’t believe in any great plan where we all have a set path. My ‘path’ has aometimes sucked quite a lot.
I believe in evolution and I believe in human error.
I don’t believe that ‘everything happens for a reason’.
I do believe in the Big Bang.
I don’t believe that you can fit 7 x all the ‘clean’ animals, and 2 x all the ‘un-clean’ animals on a big ark and sail away and wait for rainbows. Although I think the story is a sweet metaphor for caring for the planet and loving your fellow man.
I try to ask myself where is God in all these beliefs?
I don’t have the answer to that question.
I only know I believe despite every rational argument against his existing.
The Lord can be seen as a Shepard, but I am a bit of a wayward sheep.
I cannot accept blindly. It is in my nature to question all, and because of this questioning everything, I even question Him.
So sorry God.
I am trying my best.
Disclaimer: I did not and do not want this blog and website to be part of the hoard of ‘Bible-Bashing-God- Squaders’ who hark on about Miscarriage, babyloss, life, death as part of Gods Great Plan and waffle their holier than thou Pro-life beliefs. (I am Pro-Choice and an advocate for full body autonomy for women (And men) all the fucking way to the pearly gates.) But I am not going to knock their right to their opinions. I just think they should leave others who believe differently the FUCK alone. I hate the merger of Church and State. That shit should be seperate. This is 2017 FFS.
Surviving Miscarriage Together 