One Year Later

I read this somewhere this week.  It's so true when it comes to miscarriage.  How do you say goodbye when you didn't get a chance to say hello?  

It's been a year since my last miscarriage.  And I'm not going to lie, it's been a tough year.  It's been a year where the Lord and I have been working through a lot.  The biggest being my miscarriage.  So, I'm going to share with you my grief one year later.  

The tears seem to be rolling down my cheeks uncontrollably this week. I'll be doing something like folding laundry and the next thing I know I'm crying.  There's just an ache deep in my heart and it comes out in the form of tears.  If I try to hold it back it makes it worse.  I'm embracing letting the tears flow.  The release of emotions is healthy, right?  

All I know is that as I sit and cry I'm not alone.  There are hundreds thousands of other women out there doing the same thing as me, mourning the loss of a child.  And they're not alone either.  I have this vision of Jesus rocking each and every one of us when the weight of our grief is just too much to bear.  And that is a comfort to me.  The Lord doesn't want us to be hurting.  He is there to comfort us.  And He knows exactly what we're going through.  His own son did die on the cross for us.

So, mamas out there who are mourning... go ahead and cry.  

Let it out.  

You're not alone.

Joy and Sorrow

Back in January 2013 we told some friends that we were expecting, then they told us they were expecting.  Three days later I had a miscarriage.  Our baby was due at the beginning of September, their sweet baby came at the end of September.  He is beautiful.

I held him for the first time last week.  I cried.  They were tears of joy and sorrow.  I am so joyful that he made it into this world.  I am so thankful that they got their baby.  But I would be lying if I said it's not hard.  That I don't understand why I can't be holding my baby right now.  He (yeah, I just think it was a boy) would be 10 weeks old right now.

On Sunday, our friends had their son baptized.  I'm one of those people that always tears up during a baptism.  I think it's beautiful.  Standing in community and declaring your child is His, it's just beautiful.  Watching them on Sunday, standing up there with their three boys I cried again.  And again they were tears of joy and sorrow.

"Others who have lost children have shared the inability to separate the sorrow from 

the joy in life.  I find that they are inextricably woven, never to be pulled fully from 

each other in this life.  I am reminded of this delicate dance as I think upon the Savior 

whose blood mingled with our freedom.  I am an injured dancer, and yet one who 

wants her life to bring glory to the one who allowed sorrow and joy to dance at all."

- Angie Smith, I Will Carry You: The Sacred Dance of Grief and Joy

Whether I got to meet my child in this life or I meet him in heaven, I still grieve for him.  He was a part of me for a reason.  He was not a mistake.  He was knit together in my womb, even for a short time, for a purpose.  For that I am thankful.  I hope that the 10 short weeks I carried him, he felt loved.  He was, and still is, a gift.  

Sorrowful, yet always rejoicing. (2 Corinthians 6:10)

Peace,

Megan