It’s next to impossible to believe that it’s been a year since my heart broke in half.
One year ago today James and I said goodbye to a precious miracle we had only just realized we had. After two painfully short weeks of pregnancy, we lost our baby when I miscarried at 6 weeks. We didn’t know such an early loss could hurt so much.
It has been a hard year, living with the grief that creeps up at the strangest times, and that has the tendency to make me bitter. Miscarriages are so often swept under the rug, hidden like some shameful secret, or talked about in whispers. At first, I thought that there was something wrong with me for wanting to talk about it because the awkwardness was palpable when I would bring it up with just about everyone I knew. So few people knew how to handle me, or the situation, so they just pretended like it never happened. I can’t fault them for this because losing a baby IS hard to talk about. It’s hard, unless you’ve lived through it, to understand why someone could be so upset about a pregnancy that had barely even started. I wrestled with so much guilt thinking, “How dare I be so upset when other women have lost their babies later? Or had a worse situation? Or endured more miscarriages?”
It’s been a hard year watching other people conceive and bear perfectly healthy babies. I’ve struggled and wondered why some people can have so many children when we had such a hard time conceiving, only to turn around and lose one. But, these past few months have been so healing as I’ve got to celebrate with friends and family members who are expanding their families through birth and through adoption. I’ve rediscovered the joy in watching God bless others.
I’ve walked the road of pain and loss with other women who said goodbye to their babies this year. I’ve cried and prayed with them and for them, and God has allowed me to minister to these ladies in ways I never could have if I hadn’t experienced it myself. I give Him ALL the glory for the many, many ways He’s redeemed our situation. He’s so good at that. His word promises all things work together for the good of those who love God and are called according to His purpose (Romans 8:28) and I’ve held on tight to that for the past 365 days.
I’ve had days of deep, deep grief and days of joy watching the child I’m blessed to have beside me learn and grow. I’m ashamed to admit there’s been anger, too. There’s been fear that history will repeat itself if we conceive again, and it’s kept me from wanting to try. We’ve struggled through this first year, and we will have an empty space in our hearts forever. But we are healing.
Mamas who are still walking through the valley: The pain does ease. Your world rights itself again somehow and you go on. Your heart will ache forever, but I promise it gets better. And God will use it for good if you will let Him.
One year ago today you left us for Heaven. The reality of you was still so fresh and I ache that I didn’t have more time to savor it. I will carry the memory of sitting on the edge of my bed, rocking your sister to bed and thinking that I was so blessed to be able to rock two babies at once. I had no idea that would be the only time I rocked you, or sang to you. I think of you every single day, and thank God for you and the imprint your tiny little life made on mine. You’ve made a difference, my little one. You’ve touched lives. I still cry tears over you and wish I could hold you and kiss you and play with you. But you’re so much better off never knowing sickness or pain or fear. You are perfect, and you are mine.
Until we meet, all my love forever,