An Old Story Retold

You won't believe this but yes, there's actually an amusing story behind my avalanche
"vicktimization."

After we lost Abigail, I sought after every bit of medical information I could find on annovulation, pcos, ovulation monitoring, etc. I joined a TTC group with several other grieiving moms. They too had lost their babies in the late stages of what otherwise seemed to be normal pregnancies.

In the midst of our grieving, we all had such a hard time getting pregnant again. It added to the sorrows, and we all wondered if we'd ever know the joy of having another baby or not. In my attempts to be encouraging, I used to tell everyone that once we had the first one of us get pregnant, then an avalanche of pregnancies was sure to follow.

I tried to perk the gals up by telling them to be preparing themselves with survival tools like ski parka & sleeping bags for camping out at the doctor's office--not to mention tools like post trama manuals, medical equipment & dopplers, and plenty of prenatal worry packs.

While the waiting and TTC process seemed beyond trecherous, I just knew that once we had the first pregnancy, then we'd have a bunch more follow along. And that's exactly what happened.

Anne was the very first rainbow baby conceived within our group. And sure enough, but an avalanche of pregnancies followed. And while we were all so excited about the pregnancy avalanche, none of us ever spoke about the very real fact that avalanches kill people.

Sure enough when all was said and done, I was caught up yet again in the devastating impact of nature's forces. And like Abigail before her, Anne too ended up in a baby funeral. I had no idea that the human condition could know pain
more powerful than an avalanche;
more powerful than an earthquake;
more powerful than a tidal wave;
more powerful than a tornado or hurricane.
I had no idea...

After Anne died, I half-heartedly joked with my avalanche friends about how I sort of got "Sony Bono'd" -- poor guy was killed in a ski accident that nobody saw coming (old guy on skis heading for a tree--it's a no-brainer). It's sad to say, but the reality is that I was our group's old guy on skis heading for a tree.

So there's that.
Then during the course of our harsh & violent journey down the mountain, my health, marriage & business have taken some very hard knocks. Life has sort of been like we've been thrust down the rocky jagged mountain of baby death--twice. I'm still not sure we'll overcome many of the wounds the avalanche has inflicted upon our hearts, minds & bodies (and oh my goodness, how my body struggles to overcome all that afflicts it--I could write a book).

Ironically, I vividly remember an avalanche class that Brian took back in college. On a frosty cold weekend in the spring of 1988, I attended a class field trip with Brian & his class. We studied all manner of geographic measurements and such. I learned so much about weather and avalanche patterns on that weekend outing high up into Rocky Mountain avalanche territory. Little did I know how deeply that class would come back to touch me.

To be certain, an avalanche is a force of nature not to be reckoned with. And I kid you not when I say that our family has taken quite the avalanche's beating since the the new century began.

Two girls in the ground. And then there's our firstborn--our only living child; our ice hockey, homeschool boy - born in Denver back in the old days. He also went with us to that frosty field trip to the mountains the winter he was two--Note to self: must scan pix from old days. I pine for those avalanche days instead.

Heck, I pine for the days my other avalanche friends have now. They are in the swing of raising young children, while I'm in the throws of menopause & illhealth; retirement & mourning. My homeschool days with my son are done. It intensifies that my wonderful sparkly Anne is fixin' to be four. Her babyhood is gone, and sometimes the missing her can make me swoon.

The aftermath of the avalanche has exposed what an incredibly frozen tundra the plight of barrenness has been (maybe that's why Ben played hockey all those years growing up, or why I love Denver and the Av's (even though they suck this year), and why I've come to love the winter best of all).

I guess looking back, it all seems like a crafty preparation for our later & greater losses in life. and goodness knows we've survived some pretty frosty blizzards in our 46+ years...

No, there's no getting around the fact that I'm a full-fledged avalanche vicktem trying to dig out of the thick icy layers that have tried to bury me alive.

Fortunately, I have the Light of the Lord to guide my way and keep me warm. I have the cloak of Christ to clothe me. I have the helmet of salvation, the breastplate of righteousness, the belt of truth, the sword of the Spirit, and the shoes of His peace. I am equipt with His all-sufficient grace, and His love carries me through the bruises, battery & brokenness that the forces of nature have inflicted upon me.

Yes, I am an avalanche vicktem. But I have survived to tell the incredible & amazing tale!