20 Questions for God

I shouldn't let myself ask this question because seeking an answer to this question is so...selfish. It is seeking what can't be known, and it is akin to Eve eating the fruit from the Tree of Knowledge of Good and Evil. But I want to know: why. Actually. I want to know: how. But I feel like WHY will get me to HOW for some reason. Why did RG have to die? If I know why he died, maybe I could better prevent another baby from dying. Or maybe I could be at peace, knowing it wasn't anything I had any control over.

I know. I know. "You didn't cause this. There wasn't anything you could do. This is just 'nature's way' of 'taking care of' a pregnancy that wasn't viable." At least that is what the doctors and everyone else tells you. But I call BULLSHIT.

Excuse my language. There is some reason this happened. Even if it is a reason no doctor can know. And telling me this is just a way to placate my feelings of guilt and horror. It is a way to escape having to deal with my grief over the fact that my baby died, and died for a reason. If it was "nature's way" of "dealing with" a pregnancy that wasn't viable, then I am still left with the question as to why the pregnancy wasn't viable.

Maybe RG died because my hormones are messed up, or because I'm overweight and being overweight makes my hormones messed up. Or maybe he had trisomy 18 or some other "defect." Maybe he died because God just wanted him back. And if that is the reason, then ok. I can be ok with that. Honestly, I only want what God wants--even if it's the early death of my baby.

But what I can't deal with is not knowing. I can't live with not knowing because it prevents me from moving forward. What if I never get pregnant again, because RG died and I don't know why? What if I do get pregnant again, and all of my babies die? If I don't know why RG died, then I can't do everything in my power to prevent my other babies from dying.

The thought has occurred to me that maybe God doesn't want me to know why, and that this mystery is part of the cross. And who am I to question God's reasoning? I want to be faithful. I want to have learned from Job. I don't need to know why. But I do need to know "how." I need to know what to do. How to move forward. How to heal, and how to trust. I need to know how to let go. How to stop being afraid. How to love myself after this.

If God doesn't want me to know why, and if He wants me to trust, instead of ask "why," then I still need help moving forward. And probably every step I take to move forward must be made in trust. I step forward into this cycle in trust. I step forward into potty training in trust (why potty training? Because, whether or not she has a little brother or sister, A's life must go on too, and I must facilitate that. This, by the way, is a realization that breaks my  heart). I step forward into the life of, perhaps, raising a single child in trust. I must keep telling myself that this was good enough for Mary. It was good enough for God. Moving forward, even if I don't know how to do it, requires my fiat. That is the only thing of which I am absolutely sure.