a healing journey

It has been one month since the worst day of my life.  I said goodbye to our child, after just 6 short weeks of carrying him or her.  When Newton and I found out we were expecting we were overjoyed…ecstatic…thrilled…there is no word to even capture how excited I was.  All my life I’ve wanted to be a mom and I felt like I finally knew my purpose.  I felt complete. 

Too quickly that feeling was stolen from me.  My dream shattered.  In the letters written here, through words to my little one, you can read our story.  For some people, this public outlet would not be the right place to share such personal information.  To me, this is a part of healing.  You see, when this happened to me, I could name one person I knew who had miscarried.  ONE.  Can you imagine how lonely that felt?  My hope is that if I put my story out on there that someone who deals with miscarriage or needs support to know they aren’t alone might stumble across this post and relate in some way to something I have written.  Fortunately, people came out of the woodwork with stories of personal experience or someone they knew.  I felt less alone and was comforted by an outpouring of support from family and friends.  Miscarriage is still a pain that not many can understand though.

Last September, at my birthday, I picked a word I hoped to live out in the year to follow.  BOLD.  God has given me the opportunity to be bold in my faith through this experience.  Losing this baby crushed me.  I am full of doubts, fears and insecurities—from was it my fault (I know it wasn’t), will we be able to get pregnant again, (logic says yes) can I carry a child to term, (again, logic says yes) to is God trying to punish me (ABSOLUTELY NOT).  In the midst of the doubt, God has shown himself to me in so many ways…from answering prayers throughout this experience, to using family and friends and even total strangers to comfort me.  Most importantly, though, I’ve seen how this baby made in impact for His kingdom in its (too) short life. 

I know God is good.

He is sovereign.

He has a plan.

He loves me unconditionally.

He is in control.

I remind myself of these truths each day when the louder, easier to believe lies start to take over.  I am still processing this whole experience.  Healing is a journey.  There are days I feel really good and strong and like I can share my story as a testimony to Christ.  Then there are days that I want to cry every second and crawl into bed and never get out, days when even looking at a child squeezes my heart to the point I think it might burst.  I’m fortunate those days are less often than not, but it’s hard.  My heart is still broken. 

Miscarriage is a difficult thing to go through.  People who have never experienced often view this loss as “natural selection,” “a blessing in disguise,” “part of nature,” “not a big deal—it wasn’t really a baby yet,” “hard, but you can try again soon” and on and on.  No one is trying to be insensitive, but to me it’s so much deeper.  This was my child, a child I won’t get to meet until I get to Heaven.  I’m mourning the death of my baby just as someone would if they had held their baby after birth and lost him or her. 

I am learning a lot right now and reading through Psalms where God is revealing Himself to me.  I picked Psalms to read when everything happened because I think it’s a book that truly shows God’s character.  David went through all ranges of emotions, many that I can relate too, and I am picking out the truths about God as I walk through the Psalms.  One verse that I am clinging to these days is Psalm 27:14 “Wait for the Lord; be strong and take heart and wait for the Lord.”  Lord I am waiting for you and the story you will tell through me and my family.  However that family might look.