Tag Archives: miscarriage

until we meet again

To my friend who is hurting,

I love you.  

It is not enough today, I know. But, I love you.

There is a desperate angst after a miscarriage… or two or three. It hurts where you cannot reach, where you cannot see, where friends cannot go.

Losing a baby after already having a successful pregnancy carries a different weight on the heart, I think. You have lost not only the idea of a child… no. Now, you know what is gone. You lost a child, a sibling, an “I absolutely want to do this.” Your child. It is different and it is exponential.

So, grieve. Grieve as though your heart would break the sky in two and the deserts would overflow with water. Grieve for that moment, that chance, that maybe. Grieve. You give it its due. That child is blessed and whole and singing now, and we long to see it again.

Do not lose heart, Friend. Though outwardly you are wasting away, inwardly you are being renewed day by day. Your light and momentary troubles are achieving for you an eternal glory that far outweighs them all. So fix your eyes not on what is seen, but on what is unseen, since what is seen is temporary, but what is unseen is eternal. (Paul to the Corinthian church, A.D. 57)

You are not lost.

Hope can find you. 

Dearest, would that I could heal you.

But hear me when I say you are not broken.

You are the very image of God, your Creator, weeping for His son.

You are Mary, unable to save her child.

You are Abraham, commanded to sacrifice.

You are Lazarus, dying to rise again.

You are…

you are in good company. 

Make no mistake- it is a broken, fallen world. But you? You are whole. You are complete. You are loved. You are salt and light. You are life, through Him. Stand up. Dust off your weary bones. Raise your hands high in surrender and thanksgiving. Renew your steadfast spirit. He has given you a clean heart today.

Turn around and see us- your family, your friends, your faith. We are behind you, we are beside you, we are leading you by the hand.  We will do any or all of those things for as long as you need.  We love you.  And, we know.

He knows. 

Your family’s pew in heaven is filled with gorgeous children who never knew hurt, and for that… if only that… we are grateful. They are saving your seat and singing so loud.  For now, we will grieve and we will walk and we will pray.

love and tears and everything in between,

every day,

me

air

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I will not drown.

I will not drown in shallow water,
Not with your love within my reach.
I did not come this far to falter,
And will not rest until I’m free.
-Randy Travis

Friends,

I had my 13+ week appointment Tuesday for Mulder#2… and am sad to report that there was no heartbeat.  An ultrasound confirmed that we had lost the Little One at 10+ weeks… my body just doesn’t realize it. 

I actually take great comfort in that.  My body… my body is so obviously connected to my soul.  I do not let go of anything or anyone without serious battle.  Goodness, I cry when I see abandoned furniture on the curb.  “Come home with me!  Your story does not end here!” I try and love and write and re-finish and exhaust every means before release.  I laughed on the way home from my appointment (hello, hormones) at the irony.  Here’s my poor, sweet body… still gaining weight, still sore, still tired, still preparing for the Little One.  All the while, he has been sleeping.  It will take a doctor to physically pry the effort out of my heart before my body will let go. I love it for that. We play until the whistle blows around here.

I am thankful for Rylie who is full of giggles these days.  I am thankful for my husband who is a provider.  I am thankful that I am an awesome crier.  I am thankful for friends who know exactly what to say and when to just not say anything.  I am thankful for cows who do not ask questions and do not care and still need to be taken care of daily.  And, I am thankful (forgive me) for the ‘silence’ feature on my phone.  I will mend.  We will go day by day.

Most of you will read this Thursday morning… I am in the hospital taking the last few physical steps of this journey.  I will be home later today and will demand Chinese food.  And then, I am going to sew.  Sew Sew Sew. Pretty things.  Lots and lots of pretty things.  I did not come this far to falter.

Thank you so much for everything.  We love you so much here at TexasNorth.  Talk to me, sing to me, leave me funny messages… I’m still here.  Just quiet for a bit. 

[God,] You are everywhere, so you must be here. – Saint Anselm