12/24/2012 

It's Christmas Eve day. I received a wonderful surprise in the mail today. 

An old college friend Moriah mailed me a package. Moriah and her husband Ethan suffered a miscarriage this year, losing their precious little girl around 20 weeks. They named her Hope, because they found that name as fitting as we did when we lost our baby girl.


The card in the package read: Every baby should have a baby blanket. A friend recently made me one of these after the loss of our little girl. It was very special to me and I wanted to pass the gesture along. Praying that you know the peace that passes understanding. Love in Christ, Moriah


Inside the package were 3 tiny handmade baby blankets, one for each of our 3 babies in heaven. White with blue trim. White with yellow trim. White with green trim. Three little tags: Grant, Hope, Isaac. 

Perfect. Absolutely perfect. 

One of the difficulties for those who miscarry children is that there is nothing tangible to cling to. There is no tombstone to visit. There are no clothes that remind you of their scent. Their toys aren't around. There is no bedroom that was "theirs." There is nothing except maybe an ultrasound picture and often, not even that.

Having something like these blankets, something tangible, makes my heart glad. It is a simple reminder that my babies aren't forgotten. Their little lives had meaning and purpose... and they continue to, in the eternal life that awaits us. 

Every baby should have a baby blanket. So simple. So fitting on this Christmas Eve. Christmas makes us think of babies. 

I remember many years ago at a family Christmas gathering, each person present was asked what gift they would bring the Christ Child if they could go back in time to that first Christmas. All I could think of was a blanket. He was probably cold. He needed a blanket. Every baby should have a baby blanket. 

Thank you, Moriah, for the perfect Christmas gift and reminder!

12/17/2012 

It was October 17th that I miscarried my last baby. 

It's now been 2 months. 

How am I doing? Surprisingly well, I'd say. 

I vividly recall one year ago.I was not in a thankful mood at Thanksgiving last year nor was I in a festive mood at Christmas last year. I had miscarried for the first time in June 2011. By the end of the year, the pain was still very deep and I was depressed. I went through the Christmas motions but my heart was not in a "joyful and triumphant" place. 

However, it was just after Christmas that the Lord did a work in my heart and brought healing. The fog finally lifted and hope returned. Praise Him!

And although I've miscarried two more times in 2012, the fog has never settled as heavy and hope has never completely left, as it did the first time.

The depressing truth is that each time is easier. Grief is not as intense, since I've covered much of this ground before... just with a different child. Knowing, from recent experience, that there is life after grief helps too. I know that this too will pass. Life will go on and we will move forward. 

Someone asked about my kids recently and how they've handled the miscarriage news. My daughter responded with gut-wrenching wails at the news the first time around. The second time, there may have been tears but I don't recall. The third time, sadly, such news was old hat. She heard me but felt no emotion at all. Her heart has become numb to the pain. 

I hate seeing that happen in her. Yet, I know it's happening in me too. One cannot go through extreme pain over and over again and come out on the other side without some callouses. Naturally, we guard our hearts to pain. We love a little less the next time around because we don't want to be hurt. It's natural... but I hate it. 

I wouldn't want my baby Isaac to not be loved to the same measure as my baby Hope or my baby Grant... in the same way that I don't love one of my living children more than the other. But then I give myself grace, because I am an imperfect mom. I'm only human. I am here in a natural body... eagerly awaiting my supernatural heavenly body and my life in heaven with the rest of my family.

One final thought on the topic of "how am I doing." I am on medication. With all 5 of my pregnancies, I've suffered with post-partum depression. Sometimes I've just let it run its course with no intervention. Other times, like now, I've requested meds to help with the emotions. 

I REALLY hate taking meds. I'm a "natural" girl who doesn't like to take anything for a headache, doesn't use drugs during childbirth and generally doesn't want medical intervention unless truly necessary. Again, though, I need grace. As much as my theory is held in my head, I know that my emotions get out of control and the medication does help keep them in line. While on meds, I get less angry. I shed fewer tears. I feel more in control of my out-of-control life. Still, I hate it and wish I could just be better without the meds. 

So, again I find myself at the place of longing for perfection, longing for heaven and for the complete redemption of all things - including these emotions and this body of mine. 

My hope in heaven is vibrant. My faith in Jesus Christ is a solid foundation for my life. With ever increasing passion, I say "Come, Lord Jesus! Come and make all things right!"