Christie Porter - My Broken Silence

It’s taken me a long time to think through how to express the deep pain I felt after my last failed pregnancy. It brought up my trauma from being repeatedly raped by a family member and to a place of sadness that I was not sure I could rise above.

There has been such brokenness in my silence, and I knew to start healing I needed to start speaking and setting healthy boundaries from those that were contributing to my pain. When I first thought of forming a support group, it was because trauma can feel like a lonely road. It took time to learn who in my life I could open up to that can hold space for the heavy things I was going through in life. At times when I shared too much, I lost friendships and that only made me feel more isolated. I did not realize until going through my healing journey that not everyone is able to support us the way we need, but if we lean on God, he will provide those individuals.

Many may lean on family, but for me I did not safe enough to share what I was going through with most when I was younger, it was not until I was older that I began to share with my own sister.  

My sister has always been my sounding board and my protector, but I was terrified of the family member that raped me and could not find the courage to tell her until 2018. The following year is when my miscarriages started, and I struggled to open up to her about them.

For a while it was because I could not find the words. I had no idea that there is also such extensive devastation, guilt, pain, and even embarrassment connected to each loss. It is hard to explain how connected you feel when you see your baby’s heartbeat as early as 5 weeks and suddenly learn they are gone. I was never great at expressing myself and did what I do best when life gets hard, I isolate. I struggled to rise above the sadness and guilt I was holding for not making my husband a father.

My whole life I have never felt good enough. Years of torment, verbal/sexual abuse, bullying, terrible relationships, and people I allowed in my life to bring me down had played into this pain and the questions in my head that maybe God didn’t think I was fit to be a mom here on earth.

It made it hard to see children in any setting, I for the first time in my entire life, could not stop the tears. I would have to rush off as the tears started to fall down my face any time a child was around. Sometimes I would drift off and imagine what my child would be like at that age. I remember going to my friend’s baby shower while pregnant and just getting the news that my baby didn’t make it. I wanted to be supportive as she had experienced losses herself, and she knew the pain I was feeling. You try so hard to be strong and be there for others, but in that moment all I could think of was don’t cry, don’t cry, don’t cry, breath, hold it together, and please Lord let no one ask me why I don’t have kids. It is hard to now be in my 40’s and still have a child, my clock is ticking, and many are not shy about making that clear.

I have learned so much through this long process that I wish I knew when I was younger, like NOT to ask a married woman when she is going to have kids or why she doesn’t have any yet. It’s not always a choice or a path that many women desire, but it is a road that many do travel, they just don’t talk about it. As an Armenian, I didn’t know of any aunts or relatives that had miscarriages. Most of my aunts had several kids and my mom was one of 6 children. So, I was not prepared for this to be my journey. They all experienced trauma as well, so I did not understand why it only seemed to impact my ability to have kids, and because of that I fell deeper into my depression.

I dreaded being asked if I have kids and still do today. The worst is when others say I am lucky because being a parent is hard not knowing I am basically a co-mom to my sisters’ kids and know fully well the challenges that brings. I knew what I was missing out on, and I wanted all of it.

As the losses continued, I decided I really needed to take a moment and think about the best way forward. I almost died trying to have a baby so it’s not just about having a baby it’s the risk I am taking to have one and learning if that is what God wants for me. A lot of people say well this person had 8 miscarriages, this person had 4, this person had 3, and they got pregnant so you can do it, you will be a mom! I think that it is even more painful to hear. I don’t want to imagine others going through what I have, nor do I want false hope. Even if one might be possible the toll all of this has taken on me physically is indescribable.

The other challenging part is the joy that is removed from the process. I do not want to go through any more failed pregnancies as the emotional pain, physical pain, and risk removes the joy out of the entire experience.

So why start a conference? Because we are stronger together and we need to talk about how we feel with those that understand instead of trying to pretend we are okay around those that don’t. We also need to learn how to support one another the way that God has called us to. I realized, I will never be okay, I will never feel like I am ready to lead, but nor did most that God called to lead in the Bible. God gave me a verse before I started ONE NINE for Humanity and ultimately this conference.

Joshua 1:9

Have I not commanded you? Be strong and courageous. Do not be afraid; do not be discouraged, for the Lord your God will be with you wherever you go.”.

This verse has reminded me time and time again that no matter what we are walking through God is right there with us.

As I continued to work through the sadness that my babies had passed, I learned to cherish the moments I saw their hearts beat, their blurry pictures, felt my belly growing, and the initial excitement of possibly being a mom. No matter what the world’s opinion was, it is okay for me to love them so deeply and cherish every second I carried them here on earth. It is also okay for me to feel broken because I could not give them a life here on earth, what was not okay was for me to walk that path of heartbreak alone.

If I go one step deeper, I think a lot about that last pregnancy possibly being my last chance. I know God makes promises, but they don’t always look like we think they should. His promise for me to have a child might not be by giving birth myself... it might be Adoption or Foster Care; I really don’t know. So, I am taking a moment to seek His will and not mine and work on healing. I have set aside my desires of HOW I would like to be categorized as a mom and staying open to how God is calling me to be that mom.

Life is hard, all the time, I can’t think of a season since I was so young that I didn’t cry out to GOD. Everyone has different paths, and no one is alone. Some paths are daunting. Like the kind that you need all the hiking and rain gear for because it is scary and always raining, while others are like open roads with rainbows and sunshine and your seldom storm. But the type of path doesn’t diminish the pain we go through in life, but it does allow God to use us in greater ways.  

We all have different purposes, and I feel mine is encouraging women like me to find a safe place to break their silence and seek out individuals that will strengthen their voice so they can start healing.

Broken silence came to me because it takes broken person to stay silent and not seek help. Silence isn’t a sign of strength, it’s what makes us weaker. I have stayed silent my whole life letting fear dictate so many decisions. God doesn’t call us to be afraid and He doesn’t’ leave our side. The first step in my healing was to stop internalizing my pain and to start talking to Jesus.

I wrote down my prayers and let the tears roll. I stopped feeling guilty for the pain I was feeling and recognized it’s okay to not be okay. Being devastated after losing multiple babies doesn’t make me weak, it makes me human. God’s not judging me for my tears, and inability to be a mom on earth so why was I judging myself and feeling like such a failure.

Part of my self judgement came from years of embedded thinking that our actions cause the trials we face and sometimes it’s hard for me to think that I didn’t deserve everything that happened to me. I carried this heavy pressure and a need to be perfect and impress a parent that would only ever see my flaws, and it was dictating my happiness. God doesn’t love us with condition; he loves us unconditionally.

Even at my age and having the blessing of Jesus walking me through life since I was 3, I still forget that He will never leave our side and hurts when we feel pain. He literally is looking down on us like we are His precious babies even though we are full-grown adults that understand the consequences of our actions. God wanted me to look to Him so He could walk me down the path of healing. For so long I was focusing on the rejection of my parent and blaming myself for things I couldn’t control. Can anyone else relate to never feeling good enough, always feeling like a failure, and always being accused of having an impure motive. That pain was elevated after my miscarriages, and I didn’t know how to process it.  

It fed into the insecurity I felt with my own husband. I felt threatened that other women would seem more appealing as they may be able to give him the kids I could not. I was allowing the pregnancy loss to make me feel less of a woman and not up to par. I felt alone, isolated, and not worth much. I felt like I didn’t just fail my babies, I failed my husband as well.

The difference now is I know it wasn’t my fault. I can get acupuncture, see a therapist, work out, eat healthier, reduce stress, and so on and so on, but ultimately if I am meant to carry a child it will happen. I learned I needed to lean on God alone to guide my path and teach me the way I must go.

I know this is long, but I also know so many women need this right now. Our wounds are deep, are insecurities are elevated, are fears our strong, but with courage and strength we can see light in our future and overcome this deep sorrow with a renewed strength. The start of that is recognizing we have pain, seeking help, and not trying to do this alone. We are stronger together and are made to support each other.

If you are going through a loss right now of any kind, God is just waiting for you to take His hand. I promise when you pour your heart and soul into His hands, He will guide you to path of healing.

It’s taken me a long time to think through how to express the deep pain I felt after my last failed pregnancy. It brought up my trauma from being repeatedly raped by a family member and to a place of sadness that I was not sure I could rise above.

There has been such brokenness in my silence, and I knew to start healing I needed to start speaking and setting healthy boundaries from those that were contributing to my pain. When I first thought of forming a support group, it was because trauma can feel like a lonely road. It took time to learn who in my life I could open up to that can hold space for the heavy things I was going through in life. At times when I shared too much, I lost friendships and that only made me feel more isolated. I did not realize until going through my healing journey that not everyone is able to support us the way we need, but if we lean on God, he will provide those individuals.

Many may lean on family, but for me I did not safe enough to share what I was going through with most when I was younger, it was not until I was older that I began to share with my own sister.  

My sister has always been my sounding board and my protector, but I was terrified of the family member that raped me and could not find the courage to tell her until 2018. The following year is when my miscarriages started, and I struggled to open up to her about them.

For a while it was because I could not find the words. I had no idea that there is also such extensive devastation, guilt, pain, and even embarrassment connected to each loss. It is hard to explain how connected you feel when you see your baby’s heartbeat as early as 5 weeks and suddenly learn they are gone. I was never great at expressing myself and did what I do best when life gets hard, I isolate. I struggled to rise above the sadness and guilt I was holding for not making my husband a father.

My whole life I have never felt good enough. Years of torment, verbal/sexual abuse, bullying, terrible relationships, and people I allowed in my life to bring me down had played into this pain and the questions in my head that maybe God didn’t think I was fit to be a mom here on earth.

It made it hard to see children in any setting. I would have to rush off as the tears started to fall down my face any time a child was around. Sometimes I would drift off and imagine what my child would be like at that age. I remember going to my friend’s baby shower while pregnant and just getting the news that my baby didn’t make it. I wanted to be supportive as she had experienced losses herself, and she knew the pain I was feeling. You try so hard to be strong and be there for others, but in that moment all I could think of was don’t cry, don’t cry, don’t cry, breath, hold it together, and please Lord let no one ask me why I don’t have kids. It is hard to now be in my 40’s and still have a child, my clock is ticking, and many are not shy about making that clear.

I have learned so much through this long process that I wish I knew when I was younger, like NOT to ask a married woman when she is going to have kids or why she doesn’t have any yet. It’s not always a choice or a path that many women desire, but it is a road that many do travel, they just don’t talk about it. As an Armenian, I didn’t know of any aunts or relatives that had miscarriages. Most of my aunts had several kids and my mom was one of 6 children. So, I was not prepared for this to be my journey. They all experienced trauma as well, so I did not understand why it only seemed to impact my ability to have kids, and because of that I fell deeper into my depression.

I dreaded being asked if I have kids and still do today. The worst is when others say I am lucky because being a parent is hard not knowing I am basically a co-mom to my sisters’ kids and know fully well the challenges that brings. I knew what I was missing out on, and I wanted all of it.

As the losses continued, I decided I really needed to take a moment and think about the best way forward. I almost died trying to have a baby so it’s not just about having a baby it’s the risk I am taking to have one and learning if that is what God wants for me. A lot of people say well this person had 8 miscarriages, this person had 4, this person had 3, and they got pregnant so you can do it, you will be a mom! I think that it is even more painful to hear. I don’t want to imagine others going through what I have, nor do I want false hope. Even if one might be possible the toll all of this has taken on me physically is indescribable.

The other challenging part is the joy that is removed from the process. I do not want to go through any more failed pregnancies as the emotional pain, physical pain, and risk removes the joy out of the entire experience.

So why start a conference? Because we are stronger together and we need to talk about how we feel with those that understand instead of trying to pretend we are okay around those that don’t. We also need to learn how to support one another the way that God has called us to. I realized, I will never be okay, I will never feel like I am ready to lead, but nor did most that God called to lead in the Bible. God gave me a verse before I started ONE NINE for Humanity and ultimately this conference.

Joshua 1:9

Have I not commanded you? Be strong and courageous. Do not be afraid; do not be discouraged, for the Lord your God will be with you wherever you go.”.

This verse has reminded me time and time again that no matter what we are walking through God is right there with us.

As I continued to work through the sadness that my babies had passed, I learned to cherish the moments I saw their hearts beat, their blurry pictures, felt my belly growing, and the initial excitement of possibly being a mom. No matter what the world’s opinion was, it is okay for me to love them so deeply and cherish every second I carried them here on earth. It is also okay for me to feel broken because I could not give them a life here on earth, what was not okay was for me to walk that path of heartbreak alone.

If I go one step deeper, I think a lot about that last pregnancy possibly being my last chance. I know God makes promises, but they don’t always look like we think they should. His promise for me to have a child might not be by giving birth myself... it might be Adoption or Foster Care; I really don’t know. So, I am taking a moment to seek His will and not mine and work on healing. I have set aside my desires of HOW I would like to be categorized as a mom and staying open to how God is calling me to be that mom.

Life is hard, all the time, I can’t think of a season since I was so young that I didn’t cry out to GOD. Everyone has different paths, and no one is alone. Some paths are daunting. Like the kind that you need all the hiking and rain gear for because it is scary and always raining, while others are like open roads with rainbows and sunshine and your seldom storm. But the type of path doesn’t diminish the pain we go through in life, but it does allow God to use us in greater ways.  

We all have different purposes, and I feel mine is encouraging women like me to find a safe place to break their silence and seek out individuals that will strengthen their voice so they can start healing.

Broken silence came to me because it takes broken person to stay silent and not seek help. Silence isn’t a sign of strength, it’s what makes us weaker. I have stayed silent my whole life letting fear dictate so many decisions. God doesn’t call us to be afraid and He doesn’t’ leave our side. The first step in my healing was to stop internalizing my pain and to start talking to Jesus.

I wrote down my prayers and let the tears roll. I stopped feeling guilty for the pain I was feeling and recognized it’s okay to not be okay. Being devastated after losing multiple babies doesn’t make me weak, it makes me human. God’s not judging me for my tears, and inability to be a mom on earth so why was I judging myself and feeling like such a failure.

Part of my self judgement came from years of embedded thinking that our actions cause the trials we face and sometimes it’s hard for me to think that I didn’t deserve everything that happened to me. I carried this heavy pressure and a need to be perfect and impress a parent that would only ever see my flaws, and it was dictating my happiness. God doesn’t love us with condition; he loves us unconditionally.

Even at my age and having the blessing of Jesus walking me through life since I was 3, I still forget that He will never leave our side and hurts when we feel pain. He literally is looking down on us like we are His precious babies even though we are full-grown adults that understand the consequences of our actions. God wanted me to look to Him so He could walk me down the path of healing. For so long I was focusing on the rejection of my parent and blaming myself for things I couldn’t control. Can anyone else relate to never feeling good enough, always feeling like a failure, and always being accused of having an impure motive. That pain was elevated after my miscarriages, and I didn’t know how to process it.  

It fed into the insecurity I felt with my own husband. I felt threatened that other women would seem more appealing as they may be able to give him the kids I could not. I was allowing the pregnancy loss to make me feel less of a woman and not up to par. I felt alone, isolated, and not worth much. I felt like I didn’t just fail my babies, I failed my husband as well.

The difference now is I know it wasn’t my fault. I can get acupuncture, see a therapist, work out, eat healthier, reduce stress, and so on and so on, but ultimately if I am meant to carry a child it will happen. I learned I needed to lean on God alone to guide my path and teach me the way I must go.

I know this is long, but I also know so many women need this right now. Our wounds are deep, are insecurities are elevated, are fears our strong, but with courage and strength we can see light in our future and overcome this deep sorrow with a renewed strength. The start of that is recognizing we have pain, seeking help, and not trying to do this alone. We are stronger together and are made to support each other.

If you are going through a loss right now of any kind, God is just waiting for you to take His hand. I promise when you pour your heart and soul into His hands, He will guide you to path of healing.