When I first thought we were having a miscarriage, I was afraid. Afraid of losing our baby, afraid of what that was going to involve, afraid of what would happen next. Afraid of the unknown.
Then, the unthinkable became my reality, and the sadness swept in. The horrible, crushing, painful kind of sadness that threatens to sweep you up and not let you go. For the first few days, I cried. I cried more than I’ve ever cried in my life. Sometimes in silent tears that streamed down my cheeks and sometimes in body shaking sobs. I missed my baby. The baby I had carried for 6 and half weeks, the one I had prayed over faithfully every day, the one I had already loved. I did find comfort in knowing that my baby was in heaven, in the sweet arms of my Savior. Happy and whole. But that did not take away the sadness, because I’m only human and however selfish it may be I wanted my baby in my arms. Because a lifetime is a long time to wait to meet your baby.
I think back to the time before our TTC journey and before the loss and I remember hearing about so and so having a miscarriage and I would think, “Oh that’s sad.” But I really honestly had no idea of that person’s pain. NO IDEA.
In the days following our loss, I prayed and begged God for strength.
Lord, I am not sure I am strong enough to endure this. Please help me. I know I cannot do this alone.
“The Spirit of the Lord is upon Me,
Because He has anointed Me
To preach the gospel to the poor;
He has sent Me to heal the brokenhearted.”
- Luke 4:18
Jesus. He heals the brokenhearted. That’s what I’ve got. A broken heart.
Lord, please heal this broken heart of mine.
Here’s the thing about grief. Just when you think you’ve turned a corner, something happens to pull you back. It’s like a sore that keeps getting knocked open. I never know what will trigger it. A song. An off-handed comment. A baby smiling at me in the checkout line at the grocery store. I know I shouldn’t but I can’t help but think about my baby and what he looks like. Would he have had my brown eyes and his Daddy’s dimples? I can’t help but remember those dreams that we had for our baby. And then it comes, a wave of sadness that is so powerful I have to blink back the tears and say a silent prayer for strength.
Please Lord, give me the strength to have joy.
I take a deep breath and smile at the baby’s mother as I bend down to pick up her keys dropped by her baby.
When you pass through the waters, I will be with you;
And through the rivers they shall not overflow you.
When you walk through the fire you shall not be burned,
Nor shall the flame scorch you.
For I am the Lord your God.
- Isaiah 43:2-3
This is a hard road to walk, but I am thankful that I do not have to travel it alone. There has not been one single day that has passed by that I haven’t thought about my baby. Even though losing him has been the hardest thing I’ve ever gone through, I’m still thankful that I am his mother. And yes, even if I knew that this is the way it would turn out, I would do it again. For someday, some sweet sweet day I know we will be reunited on the other side of Heaven.
An angel in the book of Life, wrote down my baby’s birth.
Then whispered softly as she closed the page, “Too beautiful for earth.”
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