This month four of my friends lost babies through miscarriage. Four. It was a month full of sadness for so many hearts.
While each miscarriage is the epitome of sorrow, a few of these Mamas endure particularly heavy crosses. One Mama lost her fourth baby at 17 weeks pregnant. Just weeks before the exciting “gender reveal” ultrasound…many weeks farther along than the “danger zone” of the first trimester…and still her little one entered the Father’s dwelling unexpectedly this month.
This Mama’s faith in the midst of loss was heroic. She wrote: “In the midst of this heartbreak, I’ve realized that there are two things about God’s nature that I hold onto when everything is unraveling around me: (1) God is loving and (2) God is good.”
Another Mama and blogging sister-soul lost a baby boy this past Monday at almost 22 weeks gestation. Her little Nicholas survived 7 weeks in utero without amniotic fluid. I know many of my readers were praying for this particular mother and child. When she wrote of her loss on her blog this week, she began with a quote from her pastor: “Who can face a tragedy? No one. No one can face a tragedy. Only God can face a tragedy. He gives us His grace so that He can face the tragedy for us.”
All four of my girlfriends who lost children this month weigh heavy on my heart and their pain hits close to home. This month marks the one year anniversary of losing my own precious one through miscarriage, which I wrote about in the post Remembering My Baby.
I remember thinking to myself last summer “what will the pain feel like a year from now?” I’ve learned it does get easier, but it does not go away. I think of the child I lost much more often than I expected I would… little moments, little experiences, little memories all of a sudden bring the pain to the forefront, back up into the gut where it feels most raw.
It’s not easy for a mother to utter the famed words of Job in the midst of sorrow “Blessed Be Your Name.” And yet, I’m convinced that even choking these words out past heavy throats and blurry eyes is the most healing, the most therapeutic, the most beautiful gift we can offer on behalf of our children. To praise their Maker in the midst of our sorrow. To bless, to give thanks, to be at peace when life is far too short.
For all my readers who’ve lost a child, particularly the ones whose pain is still so very raw this month: You’re on my heart and in my prayers.