Story’s Fourth Day

Four years ago today was the worst day of my life. It was the day that my body officially lost the body of a child that we had fallen so deeply in love with over the course of 3+ months. I still remember the way I felt that the world should stop turning because of the pain of that loss; the anger I felt because other people were allowed to go about their regular lives while ours were being ripped apart.

 

I remember sitting in the doctor’s office and loathing the fact that other women were in there with infants, or were about to pop, or were at least “allowed” to keep their babies. I don’t remember if I cried in the waiting room or not, but I do remember after the D&C I just felt numb.

 

The weeks went on, I bled a lot, and then finally we were cleared to start trying again. As I look back I remember thinking that there was no way I’d rest with that failure – the loss of our first child – on my shoulders; it became almost a competition with myself to see if we could get pregnant and actually have a baby at the end of it. By the grace of God, and certainly not by anything I’ve ever done, we had Wes. Our incredible, beautiful, smart, hilarious little boy was born just over a year after our first loss. He is everything we could have hoped for and more, and we are blessed beyond words to have him in our lives.

 

But sometimes I still miss that sweet babe that got there first. And I wouldn’t change life as I know it for anything in this world, but there’s always going to be a longing in my heart to hug our baby in heaven.

 

Y’all, miscarriage is hard and my heart is ugly, but God is redemptive and loving. He sees the ugly and the hurt and the scars and the mess, this huge ball of chaos I call my emotions, and he redeems it all. I’m hardly best spokesperson for miscarriage, but I have my Story and he is using it to touch the lives of women across the world. Somehow, someway, that sweet baby’s legacy is helping people everywhere through their own hurt, and it’s all God. I’ve received at least 10 times more emails about how to work through miscarriage than any recipe I’ve ever made, and I wouldn’t have it any other way. Because y’all? Food is great and I love it, but the real stuff is what’s important. The heart things, the hard things, the LIFE.

 

Story baby, you are remembered in our hearts as the joy that passed too quickly, but we love you always. Thank you for changing my heart, for breaking down barriers, for bringing more of Jesus to your mommy and daddy, for showing us love we never could have imagined, and for changing a little bit of the world for God’s glory. I love you.