I remember the aftermath of my first miscarriage. Many times
people don’t even realize they have had a miscarriage when it happens so early
in the game, but since I was going through fertility treatments, in this case
an IUI, I knew that I had conceived, I knew that it had implanted and the cells
of the embryo were splitting… and then they weren’t. When they say “your body takes care of it,” the
pregnancy hormone or BetaHCG numbers, or “Betas” in the fertility lingo, slowly
go down to zero. Well, my body wasn’t doing that, and so I had to have a shot
of methotrexate to help me get there.
One of the warnings I
got when taking methotrexate was to NOT TRY to conceive on my own for 3 months.
Anyone who is trying to get pregnant through an A.R.T. knows that you are
pretty much chained to a lab during that time, and I was being released from
those chains. So what does one do when given freedom of movement but can’t
actually physically do anything? Well, I went to better my soul. My husband and
I went to Israel.
We spent Shabbat in the old city of Jerusalem and had a meal
with the Rosh Yeshiva that my husband had studied with for his gap year. He asked
me to sit next to him and I confessed to everything we were going through. He
told us he wanted his son to take us to see a specific Rabbi for a bracha the
next day. On the 2 hour journey for our
bracha, the son, our guide, turned to me and said “You likely will not get to
see the rabbi, so tell me what you want to ask since my father feels your
husband is quiet and would not push through the crowd for a blessing.” My husband spent a year in this yeshiva, was nicknamed
“pareve” since he was coming to learn, but not change. The head of the yeshiva knew
my husband’s personality and accessed that his wife was a true ezer k’negdo and
could speak, if allowed, for both, but wouldn’t have the opportunity. I was very
grateful to have a representative who would not hold back. I told the Rabbi’s
son that we had recently had a miscarriage and we wanted desperately to have
children and I was losing hope. Should we switch to IVF or continue with IUI,
will we have children… what should we do?
When my husband came out from seeing the Rabbi, I asked what
had transpired. I wanted details. “He asked what I did for a living. I told him
I make lights. He asked for your Hebrew name, and I told him Zehavi. I asked
for a bracha for my livelihood and for children. He told me I will LIGHT UP THE
WORLD.”
That’s it? I was
disappointed. Will we light up the world through his work? Would my “golden”
Hebrew name allow me to light up the world another way? Will we finally be able
to see the light at the end of our dark fertility tunnel and have children? How
will we light up the world? In hindsight, it would be all of those paths and
only now can I see it revealed, and I truly thank G-d.
Chanukah is a festival of lights, a time for miracles, and
every year at this time, I think back to this event in my life and the bracha
that we would “light up the world.” I know how lucky I am that Hashem gave me my
miracles! I still cry in disbelief and nachas during candle lighting when I
hear my boys recite the brachot. But I don’t forget the past.
I speak openly about my journey, tell my tale on blogs,
youtube videos, symposiums, wherever people will listen. People I have never
met come over to me, call me, email me to share what they are going through and
just knowing there is someone else they can talk to brings light into their
eyes.
I reflect on those who have to endure this holiday without children.
I relate to the couples who are praying that this is an auspicious time for
their cycles and perhaps Hashem will give them a Chanukah present, a miracle
this time, that he will bring light into their dark days, and I pray too.
Whoever you are, where ever you are, know that you are not
alone. You may not know me, and I may not know you, but I feel you – your pain,
your heartbreak, your despair, your doubts, and your fear. There will be
miracles for you, it may not be clear how it will manifest itself, but Hashem
has not abandoned you. With each day of Chanukah, may the increasing lights and
warmth of the candles on the menorah bring you comfort and I hope that your
gift will be revealed sooner rather than later.
