It’s been a while...

I haven’t written here in four years. I think about it often. I miss writing, but my heart has been torn. I want to write, but only if it’s something useful for someone else. Not for recognition, but in a pursuit of ministering to people.

So I’m breaking my silence.

Tomorrow is the five year anniversary of finding out that our sweet fourth baby had gone to heaven. While I don’t feel complete sadness everyday, I do still think about that missing piece of our family all the time.

I struggle introducing my family to people, because we don’t have four kids—we have five.

Not long ago, Lucy told one of our other pastors’ kids about the baby that died in my belly. Ahhhh. Good conversations for six-year-olds.

But I’m thankful when the kids remember. It makes  me feel like I’m not the only one. Grief is like that. You get past the initial stages and it seems everyone else has forgotten, but you’re still stuck in the middle of it. I intentionally send sympathy cards super late for that reason—so that the grieving know they’re not forgotten.

But what does grieving a miscarriage five years later look like? Well, the first year I knew would be tough. All the milestone dates we should have celebrated with that baby were tough. Years 2-4, I think my body started the process before my mind really knew what was going on. Each of those years, around this time, I’ve hit what I can only describe as an emotional downward spiral, without even consciously being aware that it was about that time. It’s so strange. Yet, I’m here again. Sad. Full of tears today. Yet, it’s been five years.

The last couple of years, I’ve given myself that day (July 29th) and allowed myself to feel the emotions. It helps. A life lost is a life worth remembering. A part of me wishes I didn’t feel this way each year. The other part of me is glad I can’t forget.

You’re always loved and missed, sweet baby.💚

So why did I write this?
1-For those who are grieving, even years later, to know they’re not alone. We’ve had so many people lose loved ones in the last few months. It’s so hard to not be able to really BE there to comfort people. There are still some lives yet to be celebrated because of gathering restrictions.

2-For those who have never lost like this to know that, yes, it still hurts and that it’s ok for you to recognize that pain in others. At least for me, I don’t mind if you have questions or bring it up. It helps to know that you remember or that my pain can be helpful to someone else who is struggling.
I’ve heard the same is true for others who have lost loved ones. Use their names. Talk about them. Don’t pretend their life never happened.

3-For myself. Writing is therapeutic and I’ve neglected it far too long. I’m hoping to get back to more regular writing here again. There’s something helpful for me, too, when I read what other people are going through. To know they’re not perfect. To know they also struggle. So I hope my vulnerability does the same for others.

If you’re struggling and ever need to talk—I’m always here. Don’t struggle alone!

Much love, friends!💚

Note...this sweet kid wouldn’t be here without our loss. I’m forever grateful God gave us Finn! 🌈 

Finn--the Fast and Furious!

After a heartbreaking miscarriage exactly one year ago, and what felt like the longest pregnancy ever, I'm so excited to share Finn's birth story with you.  Also SUPER excited to have a story to share that doesn't start with a scheduled induction!

One day old

Even though I was only 38 weeks, I was convinced this kid was never going to come without some force.  I was actually supposed to be at my final prenatal appointment, scheduling my induction just 5 hours after he was born.  After months of contractions, I had still made no progress at my appointment the week before. Not dilated, baby still very high.  Quite discouraging news--even if it doesn't really mean anything.

Tuesday, May 31st, however, I had probably the fewest consistent contractions that I'd had in months.  That morning, I took Jack and Lucy out to run errands.  We went to Home Depot to get plants for the garden.  We went to a local nursery to buy more plants when Home Depot didn't have what we wanted.  

This particular nursery has several large fish tanks, a gold fish pond with turtles and a bunch of people exotic birds.  We walked around a long time and the kids had a blast. Since they had been awesome little assistant shoppers (and because it was the one thing that always sounded good--and because they have diet Dr. Pepper), I took them to Chick-fil-a for lunch. 

Watching the fish and turtles

 After lunch, we came home.  I was apparently feeling ambitious, because I let the kids eat ice cream on the porch--which resulted in an impromptu bath time.  

Later, when Kate got home from school, I took her to Walmart and Target to get some supplies for a school project and a new bottle of insulin.  While at Walmart, I texted Kraig, "Maybe we can just go to the hospital tonight." Haha. I even called my mom and told her I figured I'd go into labor after using the new bottle of insulin once.  It's not cheap, so I had put off getting a new vial until the day I needed it!

Walmart selfies!

After putting the kids to bed, I decided to go for a walk.  I walked 5 laps around the church parking lot, having my normal, occasional contractions.  After I came home, I bounced on my yoga ball for a few minutes and we went to bed around 11:00 (after taking my insulin from my new vial, of course!).  I was having basically no contractions at all--very unusual for me.  

I woke up a little later, at 12:30 a.m. on June 1st, to a really strong contraction. It surprised me, but I fell back asleep. Ten minutes later, another contraction hit. As soon as it was over, I sat up.  I knew if another contraction hit that I wouldn't handle it well in that position. After the inital two contractions, they were coming every 2-4 mins apart and lasting up to 2 minutes each. That left very little time in between. 

I tried every position possible to get comfortable, but the pain was barely manageable. I was still convinced the contractions would stop, so I decided to give it an hour before waking Kraig. In hindsight, this was just stupid!  This is my fourth baby, but my first where I wasn't induced. I truly didn't think my body was capable of labor on its own! 

In between contractions, I sat on my ball, playing Mahjong on the iPad and using a contraction timer app on my phone.  I was in severe denial. Haha. 

After an hour, and literally being on my hands and knees to get through each contraction, I woke Kraig and told him I thought it was time. He called in help for our other kids at 2 a.m. While waiting, I decided I'd be more comfortable laboring outside, where I could be a little louder without waking the kids.  Nothing like being on your hands and knees on the blacktop driveway!  Our fabulous help, Winnie, arrived around 2:30 a.m. and we headed to the hospital.  

I was getting nervous about having Finn in the car at this point, so I was trying to hurry Kraig along.  Stop signs aren't necessary at 2 in the morning, right?

We arrived at the ER and I had two contractions before even making it into the building. Another one hit about as soon as we got to the registration desk, and without hesitation they grabbed a wheel chair and quickly took us up to L&D. The girl pushing the wheel chair was basically running with it.  She did NOT want to deliver a baby in the elevator.  

I was "checked in" to the hospital computer system at 2:48.

After the ridiculous check in process, where I was on my hands and knees moaning in the thankfully empty lobby, I was taken to a triage room and asked for a urine sample. They were clearly not sensing the urgency of the situation!  

As I was sitting on the toilet, my water broke--which sounded like an explosion. It was so loud, my husband and the nurse heard it through the closed bathroom door. The nurse rushed in and helped me out to the bed. I had no desire to lay down, but they insisted that I must so they could check me. Laying down was NOT comfortable.  At. All.  

As one nurse was checking me, two more were undressing me and I was suddenly wearing a hospital gown. The nurse announced that I was 10 cm and I felt SO relieved. I was afraid that she'd say like 3 cm and I knew I couldn't manage this level of pain much longer. They immediately called my doctor and wheeled me across the hall to a delivery room, which they were still setting up as I was moving onto the bed. They quickly tried to attach monitors and put in an IV in between contractions. 

I was pushing almost immediately and the hospitalist came in to attend the birth. He had sleep lines on his face, which was hilarious. Before long, a doctor from my practice came in, and Finn was born quickly after that. 

From the time we reached the registration desk to when Finn was born was 27 minutes. 

He was born at 3:15 am, after a labor that lasted only 2 hours and 45 minutes. 

It was completely shocking, but awesome. Once he was out, I realized there were nearly ten people in the room.  Apparently, the speedy delivery was their entertainment for the night. L&D was VERY quiet at that particular time.  

I was so thrilled to have my second unmedicated birth. Even better to not tear and need stitches.  I was GBS positive, however, and there was no time for antibiotics during delivery, so we had to stay a full 48 hours for observation.  But he's perfect!

 Little man was already above his birth weight at day 5 and clearly is nursing like a champ. So thankful to have him in my arms and not my belly! And even more grateful that we made it to the hospital and didn't deliver him in the car!

Meeting the rest of the crew:)

Eight weeks later...

We're settled in pretty well and even getting some sleep!  He weighs around 13 pounds and is starting to smile and coo like it's his job.  He's getting too big too fast, but we are so in love with him!

One month old

7 weeks old

The Rainbow and the Rain--Pregnancy After Miscarriage

I've started writing this post a dozen times, but I keep putting it off.  Writing is a good outlet for me.  It helps me "talk about" things that are on my heart that I would have trouble expressing in person to someone.  And the whole miscarriage thing is awkward to bring up.  Other people don't want to bring it up because they're afraid they're bringing up something you might be uncomfortable talking about or that they'll make you cry.  And you, as the one who's been through it, sometimes assume that everyone around you is done hearing about it and you hesitate to bring it up again--if you even had the nerve to bring it up in the first place.

Today was a much needed reminder that I'm not alone in this.  That people haven't forgotten our loss.  That people still think my grief is valid.  And I needed that.

My sweet, sweet friend gave me this at church today.  Well, not this exact one...mine has four turquoise beads and one pearl.  The four turquoise beads represent our living babies, and the white pearl represents our little one in heaven.  It's so perfect.

The card with it said this:

Stacy,

I feel like no matter how hard I try, I'll never have the right words to say so I hope this gift shows you how much I think about you and pray for you.  Even if you don't wear this, I hope you can enjoy it in some way to celebrate all your sweet babies, both here and in heaven.  There is a special place in our hearts for you all and your kiddos!  We love you!

And I cried, of course.

Pregnancy after miscarriage is definitely different.  I was never really concerned about miscarriage before I had one, but the fear definitely loomed through most of the first trimester.  I was thrilled when I found out I was pregnant again (in the bathroom at Target!), but the excitement quickly turned into anxiety as we got closer and closer to my first appointment.  I dreaded walking into that office.  I dreaded being taken back to an ultrasound room where I might get bad news.

There was a definite emotional battle off and on throughout the entire pregnancy.  It took me until after our 20 week ultrasound before I felt comfortable going to appointments without Kraig.  Even then it was hard, but by then I could feel that he was alive in me.  The rest of the second trimester and most of the third were much less anxiety-filled, but my emotions have definitely been on high alert lately.  

This last trimester and the quickly approaching birth has brought up a lot of the pain and anxiety all over again.  The fear of this one not making it either.  The fear of the emotions of labor and delivery, as I will inevitably remember the baby that we lost and the hospital experience of my D&C.  The guilty feelings of being happy about the baby that will soon be here.  There are a thousand feelings, really.  

My friend was definitely following the Lord's leading to gift me with this right now.  I don't even think I was aware of how much I needed that reminder that the life that is gone was precious and has not been forgotten.  I needed that reminder that I'm not alone.

Having a reminder of all 5 of my kids on this necklace is perfect.  It's a way to carry them all with me, and it creates an opportunity to share my story if anyone should ask.  And I'm so very thankful for that.  The silence does no one any good.

If you're in my shoes, know that these feelings are normal.  I pray that you'll have someone who will show you that your loss isn't forgotten--that your pain is still very real and recognized.

If you're a friend of someone who's in my shoes (pregnant or not), don't be afraid to reach out.  I'm sure it's awkward.  It's definitely something that's so terribly hard to understand if you've never been through it, but just acknowledging someone's loss can mean the world to someone like me. And it doesn't have to be in the form of a gift.  A simple card or even a text can mean a lot!

I'm very thankful my awesome friend didn't let the awkwardness get in the way of her ministering to me.  And ministering to me is exactly what she did.  :)

Hoping my next post is a birth announcement!!

**These beautiful necklaces 
and other similar jewelry can be found at www.rachelle-isms.com 
She has a lovely Etsy shop.  The card that came with the necklace says, "Miscarriage is a silent pain. My hope is that each nest encourages mothers to share their stories and heal."  My feelings exactly!**

For more posts about miscarriage, check out the My Miscarriage Journey page for all my posts.  

To The One I'll Never Hold

The past few weeks have been up and down.  I've been thinking about you a lot.  Missing you.  Crying for you.  Remembering you always.

I knew February would be hard.

I sat in church today and realized we probably would have been meeting you in 6 days or so.  I probably would have had gestational diabetes and, given my experience with your brother and sisters' births, would have been induced early.  You weren't due until the 20th.

I should be meeting you next week, though.

But I'm not.

Someday.

But not here.

And it all feels so wrong.

I'm so happy that you're getting a little brother, but he'll never get to meet you either.

It's always sweet to feel him kicking and squirming in my belly, but then I remember that you're not there.

That I never felt you move.

And it's JUST. SO. HARD.

Feeling happy feels wrong at times, because I'm sad, too.  I'm not replacing you.  I'm not forgetting you.  But there is so much good to be happy about, too.  God has really blessed our family.  You would have loved being with us.

And we would have loved so much to have you.

And I'll never understand why.  

But I am thankful for the way God has used you, even though you were never here.  He's used you to help me help others who have little ones in Heaven, too.  He's used you to remind me to enjoy every single second I get with your siblings.  He's used you to remind me to lean on Him.

And without you, we probably wouldn't have this little guy I'm carrying now.  And I'm sure God has big plans for him, too.

I'll never forget this pain.

But I'll also never forget the joy you brought me and your daddy.

You will forever be loved.

So, I'll let the waves of grief come again as we approach your due date, because you were a life worth mourning.

Missing you always, little one.

Love,
Your Momma

Because Hope Grows

Everyone has a different timeline for their grief.  We certainly are not "over" the loss of our baby, but we did decide we were ready to try again.

And it worked.

Very quickly.

So quickly that it was hard to even begin to process.

But seeing God's hand in this so far has been pretty astonishing.

For the whole week before we found out, Jackson kept telling me, "Mommy, I told God to put another baby in your belly and He did. There's a baby boy in there right now. And I asked Him not to take this one away."

And I'll admit it--the first time he said it, I had to sneak away and cry.

But he just kept talking about it.

After a week, I realized that maybe he was right.

I secretly bought a pack of tests and took one.  It was faintly positive.  I couldn't believe it.  So I waited four hours and took another.  Then another in the morning.

Then the next night, I made an excuse to take a trip to Target after the kids were in bed.  Bought a digital test this time. And there, in my favorite bathroom stall at Target, the test read "Pregnant."

It could not be denied.

So I snapped a quick pic and went to the van, where I sat and bawled.  It was like a sense of relief almost, knowing that I could conceive again.

Finally feeling confident, I came home and told Kraig, who was equally surprised at how quickly I happened.

Good to know Jack was right! For over two weeks, the kids were insistent that I'm pregnant and making all sorts of comments.  It was fun to finally tell them last week.

I guess between this being my 5th pregnancy and having been pregnant so recently, my body is just trained to look pregnant.  Had to get out maternity pants two days ago.  There's no hiding it anymore. Kate actually looked at my belly earlier this week and said, "Is there something you're not telling us?" 

Oh my.

So here we are.  I'm due June 9th, which is also our 9th anniversary and the day before we found out we were expecting this past year.  Seems like such sweet timing.

Sure, there is some fear involved in being pregnant again, but there is also joy and excitement and hope.

I'm positive someone is reading this thinking, "Didn't they learn their lesson last time about announcing so early?"

And the answer is a resounding YES! We learned, for sure.

We learned that had we not told, we wouldn't have had the time to celebrate the pregnancy we had nor the amount of support we had when we experienced the loss.

And, yes, there is always a possibility that we will lose this baby, too.

More than anything, though, I know that IF that would happen, I would need people to know.  I would need the support again.  I truly believe that not mourning privately helped validate my loss and helped me to grieve.

But for now, we rejoice because hope is growing in my heart and in my womb.  And a life should be celebrated.

Because I Understand Now

It's been a good few weeks for me, emotionally.  It's been 11 weeks since we lost Baby #4.  I was 11 weeks pregnant.  I miss that little one.  Not a day has gone by without remembering what we lost, but I hadn't cried in over two weeks.

But yesterday...

I was reminded yesterday that today is Pregnancy & Infant Loss Awareness Day.

And I am SO aware.

Before this year, I had seen posts by many sweet friends who have lost little ones and been sad for them, but this year I understand.

This year I'm mourning--not just for me--but for my friend B , who lost a little one to miscarriage last year.

For my sweet friend T and her losses.  You were my first real glimpse into this pain.

For my friend L, whose loss is more than I can even imagine.

For another L who lost her first and delivered a stillborn daughter.

For D and her recent losses.

For J and her sweet one.

For J and her sweet little girl.

For G who reached out to me because she went through miscarriage over 30 years ago.

For my mother-in-law and my husbands family, who lost a child and a sibling.

For S who lost her first little Peanut to miscarriage.

For S and her multiple miscarriages.

For A who lost her first to miscarriage.

For J and Baby August.


Each of these women helped me in my grief.  They shared their dark days. They shared tears and hugs and words of hope. And I am forever grateful.

The ache is very present today, but we mourn together.

Today, I'm thinking about what I would look like at 22 weeks pregnant. Thinking about feeling all the little kicks and somersaults. And I miss my little one.

If you're struggling with the loss of a pregnancy or infant, too, PLEASE don't carry that weight alone.

Reach out.
Share your story.
You never know who you might help just by not being silent.

A Call to Love

Life seems just so absolutely messed up sometimes.  Not just my life, but the entire world.

There's more turmoil, fighting, hatred and all out, absolutely ugly, un-Jesus like behavior out there than I even know how to emotionally process.

And that's not just the secular world.

Christians often seem to be right there in the middle of it, forgetting that Jesus taught us to love--that the two greatest commands He gave us were to love God with every ounce of our being and to love everyone else like we love ourselves.  But we don't.

In spite of how evil, perverted, and confusing the world has become, we are still called to love.  God never said we should become an exclusive club and only love our own people. He told us to love--no stipulations.

Somehow we've strayed from "loving the sinner but hating the sin" to hating the sin, the sinner and anything that might possibly be connected.

We're scared of certain types of sinners and their sin, so we all but condemn them to hell rather than try to reach them and believe that God is powerful enough to change them.

We're scared of people who have a different religious preference than we do, so we're content to let them be homeless, starving refugees or, even worse, dead because they couldn't make it to freedom safely. We certainly couldn't accept them into our country or our homes, because they might have been taught to persecute Christians. Oh wait..remember Paul? God changed him from being the biggest persecutor of the church to being one of the men who is hugely responsible for the growth of the early church. The next Paul might just be seeking asylum in our country, waiting for you to show him what the love of Jesus looks like.

We're scared of investing our time into people we don't already know, because these people
might require something of us. They might be needy. We might not like them. They might not be "our kind of people." So we're content to stay in our comfortable little routines and ignore God's call to share His love with others.

Let's remember this, we are ALL sinners.  I am thankful my sins are covered by the blood of Jesus, but that doesn't make me superior to people who aren't Christians.  It actually gives me an even bigger responsibility to love these people, in spite of whatever is "wrong" with them.

Not only are we all sinners, but we are ALL created by, loved by, and made in the image of God.  These people that we're so scared of are people.  Human beings. Part of our family.  They're all just prodigal children who need to come home.  Who need to be loved.  Who need to see that there is something more to this whole Jesus thing than becoming a superior person who gets to condemn sinners.

Let's not write people off because of who we think they are.  Only God can know who they can become when His love washes over them.

They will never come to know the love of God through our hate, our apathy, our condemnation, our avoidance.

They will know we are Christians by our love.

And that love--the true, sacrificial love that we're called to live out--is a love that turns heads and hearts toward Jesus.

And now these three remain: faith, hope and love. But the greatest of these is love.

1 Corinthians 13:13

When the Waves Come Crashing In

Saturday marked the one month point from when we found out we had lost our baby.  I keep wanting to write more, to share what I'm feeling, but I've been hesitant.  I'm hesitant, because I've gotten remarks from people that make me think they think I should have moved on by now.  That I should just be able to forget and get over it.  I guess since they've gotten over the initial sadness, they think I should have, too. Or perhaps I'm reading into people or assuming things, but that's what it seems like.   I've tried to be gracious toward people who make insensitive comments, but it's hard.

Most people are truly unaware of the way their words come across. And I get it.  Prior to this experience, I know I have said all the wrong things, too.

All I really want is for you to say I'm sorry.

Maybe to hug me if we're close and not even say anything, because your actions communicate that you still care.  That you're still remembering us in our time of grief.

To tell me that you're still praying, because I need it so much more than you know.

To ask me how I'm doing and be okay with me telling you.

I don't need you to try to fix my problem or psychoanalyze me.

And please, please don't tell me there can always be another baby because I'm still young enough and there's still more time.  You don't know that.  You don't know God's plan.  You don't know how terrifying the thought of being of being pregnant again might be.

And when you say that, it seems that you're implying that this new baby will replace the old baby.  And, frankly, that just makes me mad.  A baby couldn't replace my three Earth-born children, so why in the world would it replace the one in Heaven?

You can be certain that our Heaven baby is one of our children.  That we had already become a family of 6 in our minds. We had planned for where the baby would sleep, where the car seat would go, what we would name him or her.  So many hopes and dreams were held in my heart for this baby,  just like the hopes and dreams I have for the other three.

Every time one of the kids does something new, it's just a reminder that we'll never get to see our Heaven baby do that thing...or anything.

And part of me knows I should be grateful to have a baby who is completely safe from the pain, the hurt, the chaos of this sick world, but my heart aches to have my baby in my arms.

I ache.

Some days are better than others,  for sure.

A friend of mine who's dealing with the same grief described it to me well.  She said that some days she's okay.  She knows what might set her off, but things are manageable.  Other days the grief comes in like a giant wave that you didn't see coming, and it knocks you down before you even know it.

Today is that day for me.

Some days I ride the waves, some days I'm under water.

Don't worry about anything; instead pray about everything. Tell God what you need, and thank Him for all He has done.  If you do this, you will experience God's peace, which is far more wonderful than the human mind can understand.  His peace will guard your hearts and minds as you live in Christ Jesus.

-Philippians 4:6-7

Praying for peace!

Remember: Finding Strength for the Tough Days

It's funny how the Lord seems to work in my life.  I often seem to "get" something.  I can write about it or teach about it.  But I don't realize how important this thing I "get" really is, until I really, really need to "get" it.  This lesson I'm "getting" in a big way is the importance of celebrating our victories--and really of how important journaling is to my faith.

I'm struggling.

Grief is slow moving.

I'm trying to stay faithful to what works for my spiritual life--reading and journaling my prayers.  Being able to go back and read about what the Lord is doing in my life is such a help and source of strength for my faith.  It's a tangible reminder of the victories in life.  The things He's brought me through.  The lessons He's taught me.

So when I'm struggling for words to pray (as I seem to often be these days), I'll re-read things I've written in the past.

On May 26th, which is just a couple short weeks before we found out we were expecting #4, I wrote this:

As if I needed a reason to journal--Joshua and Judges are perfect reminders.  Those who saw and remembered the Lord's work served Him.  The generations that didn't remember fell away and served other gods.  Let me never forget all the things You've done for me and for Christians throughout history.

I think we're also responsible for sharing what You're doing for us so that others can see it and remember what You've done for them.  

The Israelites were always building altars to remember Your work--visible reminders.  Exactly why having scriptures and things that remind us of You in our homes is so important.  

Keep it visible.  Remember.

Thank you for all You've done for me and my family! We are so blessed.  Thank you for pointing me to those scriptures as I read them.  

Remembering all the victories the Lord has given me is exactly what's helping me get through the toughest times of my grief right now.  Yes, I'm still breaking down.  Yes, I'm still visibly grieving.  Yes, I'm still dealing with anxiety.  

But I know my Lord is faithful.  

He's proven it to me.  He's proven it to my family.  He's proven it to so many of you.  

Let's remember that.  

Let's never stop remembering that.  

Let's never stop sharing that with others.  

I encourage you to read Joshua and Judges and look for that theme.  The ebb and flow of the Israelites' faith is so evident.  So frustrating to read about when it seems so obvious as to why they kept falling away.  But we do it all the time.  We forget the victories.  We don't share them with others.  We don't let them encourage us and help us through our trials.  We don't remember.  It may be one of the biggest benefits of journaling for me--to have my victories all written down so they can't be so easily forgotten.  

I leave you with a passage from 1 Chronicles 16 today.  It's a great encouragement to constantly be remembering and sharing our victories with others:

Give thanks to the Lord and proclaim his greatness.

Let the whole world know what he has done.

Sing to him; yes, sing praises.

Tell everyone of his miracles.

Exult in his holy name;

O worshipers of the Lord, rejoice!

Search for the Lord and for his strength, 

and keep on searching.  

Think of the wonderful works he has done, 

the miracles, and the judgments he handed down.

(verses 8-12)

Let the whole earth sing to the Lord!

Each day proclaim the good news that he saves.

Publish his glorious deeds among the nations.

Tell everyone about the amazing things he does.

Great is the Lord! He is most worthy of praise!

He is to be revered above all gods.

The gods of other nations are merely idols, 

but the Lord made the heavens!

Honor and majesty surround him;

strength and beauty are in his dwelling.

(verses 23-27)

What do you need to remember today?

**If you're a new reader, this post refers to grief.  I recently lost a baby to miscarriage--that's what I'm grieving.  If you'd like to read more about that story, you can find it here. Thanks for reading!**

**If you'd like to receive updates from Grace for Every Moment via email, "Follow by Email" is available on the right sidebar.**

Overwhelmed

I am truly overwhelmed at the response from all of you since I posted our miscarriage story on Monday.  The post has been viewed nearly 500 times, which, for a tiny blog like mine, is huge. I'm even more overwhelmed, however, with the number of women who have shared their personal miscarriage stories with me--some of which were as recent as last week. I wrote this for me, as part of my healing process, but many of you have shared gratitude to me for sharing it because it's helping you in your healing process.  Knowing that my story and my pain is helping others has been a huge source of comfort to me.  It is healing to know that my pain is serving a purpose.

You will probably never know all the people in your life who have lost a child to miscarriage. I would ask that you please share my post from yesterday with those you know. You never know who might need to read it. If my story can meet someone else in their grief, it gives even greater purpose to my pain.

The link for the original post is here.

The pain is still unbearable most of the time, but I'm trying. I'm searching the Bible for comfort. Praying--even if it's only in cries and moans the Holy Spirit can recognize.  Surrounding myself with songs of praise and worship to remind myself of the Lord's faithfulness. Reading through my old prayer journal entries to remind myself of the victories in my past.

Here's a snippet of what I wrote yesterday:

I am overcome with joy because of your unfailing love, for you have seen my troubles, and you care about the anguish of my soul. -Psalm 31:7

Lord, I know these words are true.  I know that you care in my mind. Help me to know it in my heart.

I'm thankful my pain is serving a purpose, but I'm still grieving and searching for peace. It's a long road, I'm told.  One day, one hour, one moment at a time...

Unexpected Sorrow

I don't know how to even begin a post like this.  Still trying to wrap my mind around what I'm about to write.

On Wednesday, July 29th, during a routine ultrasound, it was discovered that our sweet baby #4 had stopped growing two weeks before.  I came to the appointment alone.  After three perfect pregnancies, I didn't have any concerns about the appointment.  My belly was in full pregnancy mode.  I had regular morning sickness for the first time ever.  Everything seemed to be going as expected.

As I sat in the ultrasound room alone, however, I knew there was something wrong. The tech barely spoke a word as she took some quick measurements.  A first time mom might not have known what was going on, but I watched as she searched for a heartbeat and scanned for circulation.  The baby stayed dark--no color, no signs of life.  She quickly left the room to go get the midwife, but she was unavailable, so I was taken to a small, private waiting room to sit alone.  I may have only waited for a few minutes, but it felt like an hour.  My face was hot, my gut wrenched with fear.  I knew that my baby was gone.  It made no sense.  It still makes no sense, but I knew.

Finally, the nurse came and took me to an exam room.  She didn't take my weight, blood pressure or any of the normal things--further confirmation to me that I was right.  When the midwife came in, she sat down and just said it.  I'll never forget her words or the look of pity on her face.  "Stacy, your baby isn't alive." I melted into tears  I'm sure my sobs were heard outside the exam room.  I went from fear to unbelievable, agonizing pain just like that.  I never dreamed that this would happen to me.

I sat and cried with the midwife, talking about what might have happened and what need to happen next.  She was wonderful to hug me and do her best to comfort me, but I was inconsolable.  I knew I was devastated,  and knowing I was going to have to be the one to tell Kraig and the kids made it even worse.

Eventually, I gathered myself to quickly escape from the office.  I dialed Kraig as soon as I got to the hall and, through sobs, I told him our baby was dead.  I'll never forget his response and the minutes of crying we did together on the phone, as I sat in the stairwell of the hospital.  I could barely breathe.  We talked while I made my way to the van, then I sat and cried until I felt like I could drive.

When I got home, Kraig met me outside and we hugged and sobbed together.  Eventually, we calmed ourselves down and went inside to tell the kids that our baby wasn't coming anymore but had gone to Heaven to be with Jesus.  Kate and Jack both cried and cried for so long.  Jack just kept saying, "But I really wanted a baby brother to sleep in my room with me!"  It was awful in so many ways.  I can't even come up with words to adequately describe the pain of telling them and watching them mourn.

I never imagined the pain of miscarriage would be so hard.  So real.  But it is.  We lost a child.  We have a precious baby that we never got to hold, or see, or kiss.  Our baby never got to experience the deep love that we already had for him/her.  And it hurts so bad. 

My body hadn't begun to miscarry on it's own, so on Friday, we went to the hospital for a D&C.  I knew my baby was gone, but it felt like I was going to the hospital to have an abortion.  Like I was letting them take my baby from me.  I knew it was irrational, but that's how it felt.  This procedure was literally removing the pregnancy from me, so it was hard to separate the two.  I was so scared going in for it.  It felt completely unfair to wake up with morning sickness that day, knowing there was no little life causing it.

Registration was surprisingly quick and painless.  Then a sweet lady we go to church with came to take me back to get changed and settled into pre-op.  She was so helpful and sensitive to the situation.  One of my biggest fears about the procedure was that I would just be treated like another patient having another procedure, but I wasn't.

In a moment alone before they brought Kraig back to sit with me, I cried by myself and told the baby goodbye.  I know that he/she couldn't hear me, but I felt like I needed to say my goodbyes and tell the baby how much we loved him/her. It all just felt so wrong to know that I was going to be leaving the hospital empty handed.  There wasn't going to be a sweet newborn.  There wouldn't even be a body to hold or to bury, I would just be empty.  So I told my baby goodbye while he/she was still with me.

I had never met the doctor before, but when he came in he first took the time to ask me how I was doing. Until then, I'd held it together, but I cried--partially because I was sad, and partially because I was thankful that he cared enough to ask.

I was grateful to have Kraig with me for most of the pre-op time.  It was comforting to hold his hand and not feel so alone.  Before it was time to go, he prayed over me and we both cried.  It was a very special moment for me, as a wife, but it all just felt so very unfair.  Soon enough, they wheeled me to the operating room and I was asleep.

When I woke up, my sweet nurse was with me.  I was fairly alert, so we talked and she asked me how other people were treating me and if people were being sensitive.  She then shared that the surgical nurses had watched a video about a year ago on how to deal with patients going through a miscarriage. She said, "I sobbed through the whole thing, because I know I've said all the wrong things to people for years." We sat and cried together and talked until I was ready to be discharged.  She was a true blessing in that situation, as she let me open up with her about how I was feeling.  I actually bought a thank-you card last night to send to her.  She was exactly the nurse that I needed.

It's been a long week and a half.  I've lost people that I've been close to and felt that pain, but I've never experienced anything like this before.  The tears come in waves, but not a moment goes by when I'm not thinking about what we lost.

We told our family and our church family pretty quickly after we found out what was going on, and it's been wonderful to have their prayers and support.  People have been gracious to give us space, but to also surround us with prayers.  We've been extremely grateful for the texts, phone calls, cards, meals and words that you all have offered.  I am especially grateful to my mom, who came and spent a week with us--caring for the kids, especially, so that I could rest and heal and so that Kraig and I could have some time to grieve together.  I couldn't have done it without her.

It's amazing to me how many women have come forward to share their own miscarriage stories with me.  In a strange way, it's been helpful to hear them and to know that I'm not alone.  To know that my feelings aren't irrational.  Thank you to those who have shared with me.  I am so deeply sorry that you've had to bear this burden, too.

I know that things will get easier eventually and I know that God has a purpose and a plan, but right now things are still very tender and difficult.  I can't yet see how things are going to get better, but I'm trusting that my faithful God will get me there.  All I know now is that I miss my baby with this terrible, fierce ache.  It's also terribly painful to look in the mirror and still have a swollen abdomen that looks like it's carrying a baby. Some things will never make sense, I guess.

We could all use your prayers as we grieve this loss.  The Bible says we should mourn with those who mourn, and weep with those who weep.  Friends, we thank you for doing that with us.  It makes it just a little easier to bear.

Choosing Grace

In thinking more about yesterday's post, I wanted to share one of the biggest stories of grace I know.

You see, there was this guy who thought he was doing what God wanted him to do.  He was going around, persecuting Christians because what they were teaching threatened everything he knew about God.  His name was greatly feared.  He later called himself the "chief" of sinners because of the many horrible things he had done.  It was that bad.

God, however, extended grace to this man and his life radically changed.  He went from being the guy who Christians feared to the guy who ended up writing a large portion of the New Testament of the Bible.  He went from being a persecutor of the church to being a faithful missionary, spreading the news about God's grace through Christ and building up the churches that he once sought to tear down.  You've probably heard of Paul, right?

Grace caused a radical change in his life and it can do the same in yours, if you choose to let it.  

If God's grace was big enough for Paul, it's big enough for you, too.  His grace, just like that, will allow the sins you've been carrying to be forgiven--totally taken off your record--and the Holy Spirit would like nothing more than to take up residence in your life, replacing the space that those sins used to occupy.  But you have to let Him in, in order for that to work.  You have to seek His grace and you have to seek out the Holy Spirit's presence by building and fostering a relationship with the Lord.  If you continue to live in sin, you don't give the Holy Spirit room to live, but if you're seeking the Lord through things like prayer and time in the Word, He and his grace can change your life in ways you can't even imagine.

I'm sure Paul had no idea that his experience with grace would turn him into a missionary for Christ whose influence is still so powerfully present today.  That is grace at work.

Galatians 5:22-23
But when the Holy Spirit controls our lives, he will produce this kind of fruit in us: love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control.  Here there is no conflict with the law.  

Holy Spirit, you are welcome here!

This song is my prayer right now...

            ------------------------------------------------------  

As part of a 31 Day blogging challenge, I will be posting every day in October.  The link on the left will get you to the home page for this series, where you can find all the posts written so far. Don't forget you can Subscribe to get posts sent to you by email. (There is a simple form towards the top on the right where you can do this.)  Thanks for reading!

Feel free to comment with your own thoughts and questions!

Is Grace Enough?

God's grace is what keeps the world going 'round, let's be honest.  The Bible tells us He's waiting to return for as long as possible, so that more people have the chance to receive his grace through Jesus. He's waiting for those who are still lost.  His waiting is showing love and mercy to those who haven't done anything to earn it.  His waiting is an act of grace.  The depths of his grace are unfathomable.

For those of us who have found Christ, He gives grace in abundance, as well.  He's there to love us no matter what and his forgiveness is always there, if we ask for it.

But does that grace have a limit?

Romans 6:1-2
Well then, should we keep on sinning so that God can show us more and more of his wonderful grace? Of course not! Since we have died to sin, how can we continue to live in it?

Part of becoming and being a Christian is dealing with the sin in our lives.  God is gracious to forgive when we ask, but it shouldn't be an habitual, ask-for-forgiveness-for-the-same-thing-every-night-because-it-makes-me-feel-better kinda deal.  Dealing with sin isn't just about confessing it and asking God's forgiveness, it's about making every effort to change.  Don't think you can fool God when you ask for his forgiveness with no intentions of trying to change.  He knows what's in your heart. Grace is something we don't deserve, but I don't ever want to be accused of trying to take advantage of it so that I can continue to let the sins that I struggle with control me.  

Last night, my family (yes, all five of us!) was blessed to get to go to a concert featuring Crowder, Capital Kings, and Ellie Holcomb.  Great, great music. Extraordinary beards. 

I hadn't been planning to attend or take the kids, so it was a nice surprise.  The concert was phenomenal, as I knew it would be. Ellie Holcomb shared some great songs full of scripture and wisdom.  As she was talking between songs, though, she said something along the lines of, "I'm a chronic worrier.  Yes, I disobey the Lord on a daily basis."  I appreciated her honesty and candor about it.  We worry all the time, even though we know we're not supposed to.  

I said it very clearly in a text to a friend today.  I was talking about my worries, especially the upcoming surgery for my husband next week and said, "There's a lot going on.  I know God's in control, but that doesn't mean that His plans are the same as mine.  His are always better in the long run...."  It's not that God's not in control that worries me.  My worries are more that God's plans might not be exactly what I think they should be.  

I can see very plainly that God's plans are always better than what my mind imagines, but it's always easier to see in hindsight.  As a challenge to all you chronic, God-disobeying worriers (sounds bad, doesn't it?), let's examine some of the lyrics of a well-known hymn:

from Count Your Blessings

Verse 1

When upon life's billows
You are tempest tossed
When you are discouraged
Thinking all is lost
Count your many blessings
Name them one by one
And it will surprise you
What the Lord hath done

Chorus 1

Count your blessings
Name them one by one
Count your blessings
See what God hath done
Count your blessings
Name them one by one
Count your many blessings
See what God hath done

Challenge:  Count your many blessings, see what God has done.  If you want some kind of reassurance of God's hand in your life, the best way to see it is by examining your life.  Seriously, think about it.  

Three of my biggest blessings are my children. Doctors told me it would probably be very difficult to get pregnant because of issues I have with my thyroid, so I spent a lot of time worrying about whether or not I'd be able to have any kids.  God has blessed us with three--one of which was a huge surprise and the other two weren't difficult to conceive.  It was a worry that now seems ridiculous.  

Last year, I was pregnant and we were in the middle of buying and selling houses.  We knew very clearly God told us to buy the house we were trying to buy, but as complication after complication arose, I worried and feared that we were going to end up without a place to live, in the middle of the winter, as I was nearing the end of my third pregnancy.  The timing wasn't what I wanted, but God pulled it all of in only a way that He could.  

If you're a prayer journal-er, flip back through it and look at the ways God has answered your prayers.  A lot of the things you were praying about that seemed like huge issues then, God answered and you now can look at it and think about how small and insignificant the issues seem.  

I know I sometimes rely on God's grace too much to forgive me for my worrying.  It's easy to make excuses and ignore the fact that it's a sin.  I am trying, though, through exercises like this, through people who help try to keep me accountable and through immersing myself more fully into the Word of God.  I don't ever want to let my heart think it can fool God.  I can't tell you the limitations of God's grace, but this is what I know:  Sin is sin, and I'm accountable for it.  I am very thankful for God's grace and forgiveness.  

Galatians 6:17 tells us our sinful nature is always battling with the Holy Spirit and that our "choices are never free from this conflict." It may always be a battle I face, but God is bigger than any of my problems.  I know it's not always easy--I'm preaching to the choir here--but, to quote another beloved hymn:

Turn your eyes upon Jesus
Look full in His wonderful face
And the things of earth
Will grow strangely dim
In the light of His glory and grace

Romans 6:1-2
Well then, should we keep on sinning so that God can show us more and more of his wonderful grace? Of course not! Since we have died to sin, how can we continue to live in it?

God, thank you that your grace is enough for even me at my worst.  Please show me the times when I rely too fully on Your grace and not enough on the Holy Spirit to help me in my battles.  


                     ------------------------------------------------------  

As part of a 31 Day blogging challenge, I will be posting every day in October.  The link on the left will get you to the home page for this series, where you can find all the posts written so far. Don't forget you can Subscribe to get posts sent to you by email. (There is a simple form towards the top on the right where you can do this.)  Thanks for reading!

Feel free to comment with your own thoughts and questions!

The Beautiful Faces of Grace

Spent the day celebrating the upcoming arrival of one of my best friends' first baby, which reminded me of the saying you often see on a baby's picture: All God's grace in one sweet face. So I'm being sappy and sharing the faces of my beautiful babies with you. They give me the deepest insights into what God's grace for me looks like.

 

Some of their very first pictures. Such amazing grace God gives!

2 Corinthians 12:9
My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.

God, thank you for the beautiful image of your love and grace that we see in our love for our children.

                                    ------------------------------------------------------  

As part of a 31 Day blogging challenge, I will be posting every day in October.  The link on the left will get you to the home page for this series, where you can find all the posts written so far. Don't forget you can Subscribe to get posts sent to you by email. (There is a simple form towards the top on the right where you can do this.)  Thanks for reading!

Feel free to comment with your own thoughts and questions!