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November 17, 2016, I peed on the stick. A few minutes later, there was the double line… positive. I was engulfed in emotions. The year had been a rough one with Brady being abruptly medically discharged from the Army, selling our house, living out of a suitcase for months and feeling misplaced. I walked out of the bathroom, crawled into the bed, and told Brady he was going to be a daddy again, that our darling child was on its way. He smiled the biggest smile I had seen in a while, given the stress we were under building our tiny house while he was, at the time, in EMT training.
On my birthday a few days later, we went on a date to celebrate my birthday and our happy news. I felt great the whole pregnancy, no morning sickness but craving carrots. We had planned a trip to Nebraska for the first week of December for my brother’s nursing school graduation. We were going to break the exciting news about the bun in the oven to both of our families.
After 10 hours of not-so-great airline travel, our little and growing family arrived in Nebraska to reunite with our extended family. That evening, at about 6 weeks gestation, my worst nightmare began; I started bleeding… a lot. The next day, December 8th, we lost our precious, darling child due to miscarriage.
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I struggled with grief, with sorrow, and with gut-wrenching emotional pain. I have never in my life felt so much sadness and heart break in t
Our due date would have been in the first week of August 2017. I avoided feeling anything, even though I wanted so badly for my baby to magically appear in my belly. I felt that I had missed out on experiencing another birth, to bringing another life into the world. I remember praying, “God help me, I need you to show yourself to me!”
At my daughter’s pleading one evening, I forced myself outside to play with her… and the Lord of Love met me there. I experienced the love of my Heavenly Father, and it was the first time in a long time that my heart awakened since that dreadful day.
That night, I was able to write this letter to my baby:
My darling child,
This is such a hard week for me. My belly should be big and filled with your busy little movements as we eagerly anticipate the day of your arrival. How I long to put my hands on my tummy and pat you gently as you move about. Even to feel your gentle thump of hiccups against my pelvis.
I sometimes day dream about how much hair you’d have, if you look like your sister or daddy. I wonder if you would be a sleepy baby or very active.
Today, as I was picking wildflowers with your sister, I was filled with God’s peace as I gently plucked the flowers from the stem. It was there that God assured me that no matter what He will provide and take care of us, of me, this week. He assured me that I don’t have to pretend I’m okay, that I can cry, and that I can miss you. It was in that moment that the phrase, “the joy HE has set before us” came into my mind. The joy is Jesus coming to take us home, the joy of reuniting with you, holding you. My arms ache to hold you, feel you and look at your sweet face.
Baby, I’d do anything, anything at all to hold you just for a moment.
This isn’t goodbye, this isn’t I’m moving on. This is I love you, and I always, always will.
Love,
Your mama
No matter the gestational age, a loss is a loss – life is precious at any age. Heaven, Jesus’s return, got a lot more special to my family on December 8, 2016. If you’ve experienced such loss, whether you be a mama or a daddy, feel free to reach out and talk with us. You are not alone!