More Than a Miscarriage

I'm not just grieving the loss of a baby. I'm not just missing my pregnant belly. I'm not just grieving holding my newborn.

I'm grieving.

I'm sad.

I'm missing a lot more than just a baby.

I'm missing.....

newborn pictures
my baby's first bath
breastfeeding
changing diapers
hairclips and headbands
being called "mom"
holding her
hearing her giggle when we stay up late just to make cookies
a first day of school
road trips
late nights and high fevers
potty training
clothes shopping
craft days
seeing the excitement in her eyes when she sees something she loves
trips to the store by ourselves
building forts
reading stories together
makeovers
listening to her practice an instrument
cooking together
sports practices
mission trips
driving lessons
first date
high school graduation
comforting her when she cried
sending her to college
a wedding
grandchildren

I'm not just grieving the loss of a baby, I'm grieving the loss of an entire lifetime.

Kisses from Heaven

This has been a week of ups and downs. It's been a week of just putting one foot in front of the other. A week of wiping tears. A week of choosing to look for something good. 

I'll be honest, I spent most of the weekend in pajama pants and I think I've eaten about 2,000 calories total in the last 6 days. 

Saturday night I barely slept and was up early Sunday morning. I debated back and forth about going to church or not. It's not that I didn't want to go to church, I just didn't want to cry in front of anyone and I really didn't want to get out of my sweats. 

I got showered and dressed (in clothes other than pajamas) and we made it to church. I am so thankful that I made it to church because God met me in a way that I never expected. 

Now, I love worship. Like seriously, I LOVE worship! One of the main things I am looking forward to in Heaven is worshiping non-stop. I love that moment when we abandon ourselves and our praise lifts the veil between us and God and His presence comes like a whirlwind. 

Worship started and I rose to my feet. A choice. I chose to stand and offer praise to my God. I couldn't sing, I couldn't clap or dance. All I could do was raise my hands and whisper over and over, "You are good. You are good. Your love is always enough." That was all I had to say. At that moment that was everything I had to give. 

As the second song started, and to be honest I have no idea what any of the songs sung that day were, and something broke. I felt God's love in such a strong and tangible way. It came as that intense love that only He can bring. The weight was so heavy on my shoulders that I could barely stand. I stood there, wobbling and shaking under the weight of His love whispering, "You are holy, and worthy and good. Your love is enough for me."

And then, after all the darkness and silence of the week, I finally saw something....

I saw my little girl. She was standing in the garden in Heaven  holding my Grandpa Thomas' hand. She is beautiful! She looks so much like Gabriella, but without the dimple and with straight very white colored blond hair that was up in two little pigtails sticking straight out to the sides. She was about 3 years old and her dress was the most brilliant white.  

She looked at me shyly from behind my Grandpa's hand. Then started stealing smiles at me. Soon she was blowing kisses and started twirling around to show me her pretty dress. 

Letting go of my Grandpa's hand she ran towards me and grabbed my hands. She wrapped them around herself. She was squealing and giggling and laughing the whole time. I was rapt watching her dance and seeing how happy she was. I could have stood there forever holding her and watching her dance and twirl. The sound of her giggle was like the sound of rain that ends a drought.   

It was beautiful. 

The moment I first saw her face, I lost it. In all the hurt and sadness that I have down here, she has none of that in Heaven, She has only ever known Jesus. She knows that I am her mommy and she knows that I love her. But she has only ever known perfect love, joy, acceptance, delight and laughter. 

God turned my gaze away from her and took my hand. He showed me how she looked when she was inside my womb still. It was horrible. Her arm and leg were deformed and blackened. They were curled up and jagged and looked like tree stumps that had been burned and broken. My heart just broke. I cried and cried, in an deep, deep way that I have never cried before. God did know what what was best. He did do the "good" thing. Taking my little girl to Heaven was the best thing that anyone could have ever done for her, and as a parent I understand that. 

Again, God turned my gaze, 

I watched as Jesus came and rescued her from inside me. As He took her spirit from her broken body she began to transform. I watched her broken body grow into a beautiful and whole new one. And there she was, dancing and laughing and jumping. He took something so broken and made something perfectly beautiful out of it. 

I was undone. 

There are moments when we get a glimpse. A glimpse into that eternal picture that is greater than us. A glimpse into the reality of eternal life. And for those moments, when God chooses to show us glimpses, I am so grateful. 

I am still here and I am still sad. But I don't question. I am not angry or bitter. I know that her going straight to Heaven was for the best. 

I know the moment she left me was the best moment of her life because she opened her eyes and the first thing she saw was Jesus. 

I am so thankful that God met me in my brokenness to show me the goodness that He has stored up in Heaven. He cares for us and carries us in our darkest moments. Waiting on Him is sometimes long, and sometimes we never get answers. It is dark and sad. But in those moments when He meets us, it makes all the hurt and sorrow melt away. 

I am not a fan of crying in front of people, and completely losing it is even worse. But in the moment when God meets your broken heart with a kiss from Heaven; *sigh* I would cry in front of the entire world for. 

I still have the grief side of things to walk through. Knowing that she is perfect and whole doesn't take away my sadness, it just gives meaning to the grief. But I know at the end of every day that God truly is good, that His love is always enough and He is worthy of it all!

Gentle Whispers

There are over 250,000 words in the English language, but that doesn't always mean there are words for every situation, every feeling, or every moment.


Sometimes there are no words to explain. Some moments are too heavy for words. And more and more I am adding to my list of unanswered questions.


It has been a week of unanswered questions, sorrow and pain. But in the middle of this week, Jesus is still there. God is still good. His promises are still true.

We had another miscarriage. Yes, another one. We now have twice as many kids in heaven as we do on Earth.

It's been 15 months since our last pregnancy and miscarriage. Fifteen months spent grieving, healing and looking forward.


After my previous miscarriage I really struggled with even wanting to try again for another child. I was terrified of going through one again. I didn't think that I would survive another one. My heart was broken, devastated. And God, ever the gentleman, let me grieve. He walked beside me as I waded my way though muddy ground and watched me as I struggled to keep my head above deep waters. Then He came to me in a way I never expected.

I was singing along to a song in the car, "I won't run, when it looks like love. I won't hide beneath the fear of how the past has come undone." And God whispered, "Then why are you running now?" My heart stopped. He was so right. I had been running, running from life and running with fear. He whispered again, "You are willing to love a foster child, even if that means you only have them in your home for a short time, even a day. If I ask you to love someone, it shouldn't be based on how long you will know them. What difference is a couple of days, a few months or a lifetime? If you are willing to do that for someone else's child then why not your own?"

Those soft and gentle words cut into my heart like a knife. Just like God met Elijah at the cave in the mountains, God met me with a gentle whisper. And that gentle whisper changed my heart, in a way that only His gentle whispers can.


One of my friends recently asked me, "What would you do if you had another miscarriage? What would your faith look like if that happened?"

My response was this, "I love how God's presence makes our hearts come undone. There is no hiding with Him. I know that He is good, that He works all things out for good, and that He is the redeemer of all things. I know all of those things and truly believe them. That belief is my anchor, my hope, the only thing that keeps me moving through dark times. But that knowing doesn't take away the pain. God said that He would wipe every tear from our eyes, He didn't say we would never have them. "

And here I am, crying those tears that I hoped to never cry again. Crying tears that no one should ever have to cry. But even through those tears, my heart is steadfast. It may be broken, but it is steadfast. God is just as good today as He was a week ago. He loves me as much today as He did last week.

During the last two days, when we had a definite answer, I have felt such love. Two of my friends surrounded me, sat with me while I cried. Both of them, at separate times, told me, "I don't even know what to say right now, because there really isn't anything to say that will make it better, or make it hurt less. But I am here, and I will sit with you while you are sad." I am so thankful for that. I am so thankful for someone telling me that it was okay to be sad. For someone just being there with me, even late at night.

One of them asked me, "Where do you feel like God is right now?"

Through my tears, I replied, "I know He is right here. He is right here, hovering above me. I can't see Him, and I can't hear Him. But I can feel Him. And I am going to continue moving forward, looking for Him and waiting for Him to speak."

That's where I am right now. I am waiting for that gentle whisper. The gentle whisper that takes the broken pieces of my heart and binds them together. The gentle whisper that says, "I am here."

A friend shared this video with me a week ago. I love it. It perfectly sums up where I am and how I feel. Because at the end of the day, even when tears fall, I will still praise Jesus.

The Struggle

Every married couple has faced it at some point: How many kids do we want? Sometimes the decision is easy and both agree on the same number, boom, its done. Others go back and forth for years, one trying to convince the other. Then once the decision is made there is the waiting game to see how long it takes to get to the desired number of children.

For us it is a little different, not so cut and dry. After years of infertility, a miscarriage, two surgeries, and thousands of dollars in medical bills we were blessed with two miracle babies. Our second was born (after a traumatic birth) with a minor birth defect and his first year is still a blur of doctor appointments, trips to the hospital, sleepless nights, tears and prayers. He is finally outgrowing it and it made me start thinking about another. Then a devastating miscarriage at 9 weeks with twins (see my post here if you missed it). That made me decide that I was done.

Four months later, a friend shared a little pearl of wisdom with me. She was telling me about a book she had read that said not to plan your family size based on infancy, plan it on how many people you want around your Thanksgiving table.

Immediately the number 5 popped into my head (coincidence? I think not. Pretty sure Holy Spirit prompted that one). That was settled, five kids.

Of course Matt was all for it. He says, "the more the merrier!"

Seems like we are good to go, right? Nothing left to discuss, problem solved. Wrong!

Now comes my internal struggle as a mom. I had a dream over 5 years ago of us having three kids. Matt and I have always wanted to adopt and since we wanted a large family we decided that it would be great to adopt siblings. So it seems logical that we would want to have one more biological kid and then adopt a set of two siblings. My mind seems to have everything figured out, but my heart is struggling.

Here are the things that I "know" with my mind:
             With PCOS, 1 in 5 pregnancies ends in a miscarriage
             There are over 4,000 possible birth defects
             1 in 160 pregnancies results in a stillbirth
             12% of babies are born prematurely

The thought of another miscarriage or having a baby born too early, a terminal baby, etc makes my heart ache. I find myself washed in tears when I think about another miscarriage.

Then there are the things that I "know" with my heart:
             God is ALWAYS good
             God works ALL things together for good for those who trust Him
             Everything that happens WILL be redeemed for God's glory
             There are a million reasons that something bad can happen, but ONE reason why it will be okay

So here is the struggle; somewhere between my aching heart and my vision of 7 around a Thanksgiving table. I feel like I am stuck between the altar and the door, between Golgatha and Bethany, between now and forever, between heaven and hell. Seems like that is exactly where we are supposed to be.

"Friends, this world is not your home..."

~1 Peter 2:11a (The Message)

We are in this world, but not of it. We live here but this is not our home. Our constant struggle is having our bodies living on the earth and our minds and hearts living in heaven. The world is full of turmoil, strife and chaos. But in heaven there is no fear, no sorrow and no hurting; there is only love and joy and freedom. 

"Love bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things. Love never fails." ~1 Corinthians 13:7

       I have seen this love that Jesus has for our children. Ones that have lived a full life and ones that have only lived in the womb. This love is purer and truer than any love I could ever give my child, 

Joy would celebrate the life of a baby (which yes, begins at conception). 

And Freedom says that death on this earth is only the beginning! 

When we can separate our worldly thoughts from those of heaven, it seems there isn't really a struggle after all. 

A Week of Healing

It's been a week of healing. I've spent most of my time at home, laying low and having lots of snuggles and giggles with my kiddos.

My morning sickness/nausea has mostly passed, my stomach is almost back to normal and my physical pain is mostly gone. My heart is slowly healing and I am so thankful for all of the prayers and love that everyone has sent my way.

Gabriella and Xander have been so sweet to me. Gabriella has a very sensitive little heart and she can tell when something is wrong. She has been giving me lots of hugs and comes over randomly and rubs my head. It is hard to be too sad with such a sweet little girlie loving on me all day. 

We did go for a visit to Gramma and Grampa's house. The kids had some popcorn and watched "A Snoodle's Tale" (Veggie Tales movie). 

I'm going to be teaching a couponing workshop tomorrow and was getting the projector hooked up to my computer to show my slideshow. After I was done I put on a Veggie Tales movie and put it up on the ceiling. Gabriella came out and saw it and said, "wow! That's amazing!"

Xander laughed and laughed when Matt held him up to the ceiling. He thought it was great fun to be able to grab at the giant vegetables. 

While we move on with our lives, it is hard knowing that we are missing two little parts of it. But I also take comfort through my tears, knowing that those two little parts we are missing are perfect and safe. They are with Jesus. In the time between now and seeing them forever, it is just a blink to them. They aren't sad or missing me. They are happy and joyful, completely full of love and life. 

This sums it up nicely. 

We will always love you, Timmy and Titus, and look forward to holding you again!

~Love Mommy and Daddy

Our Twins

It's been a rough week. Without going into a lot of details, it sums up simply as: I had a miscarriage with twins. I was heartbroken to say the least. Tears flowed and flowed and no matter how I tried I just couldn't stop them.

Looking for God in the situation was so difficult. In my grief, I continued to look at Him. His eyes were hidden from me, but I knew they were on me. It was a "dark night of the soul" moment for me, a testing of all that was instilled in me this last year.

After three days of silence from God, He met me in the most beautiful moment.

I was at our church's women's retreat and lying down in the soaking room. I didn't want to talk to anyone, didn't want to show my tears, and didn't want to have to pretend like I was fine. As I laid on the floor I saw myself surrounded by angels. Angels who were gentle and strong. I stood there surrounded by them and just breathed, in and out, as everything around me came to a stop. All the swirling emotions and thoughts from the last few days and the last year. One of the angels whispered to me, "this is a safe place", and I knew they were right. I haven't been in a safe place for over a year, but in that moment I knew I was.

I watched as God walked towards me. He gently began to peel off layers of me that looked like my body. Hard, crusty layers that I had put up to keep people out, and to protect myself with. In that safe place I knew it was time. After the layers came off, He picked me up in His arms, like a baby, and began to walk up an endless flight of stairs. "I've got you," He whispered, "just breathe" as He just walked up the stairs, never hesitating, never wavering. His hair was so soft, like a pillow. I felt the world melt away as I laid my head on His shoulder and just let Him carry me.

We got to the top of the stairs and He said, "I have something to show you." As He set me down, two little boys ran up to greet me with hugs. In an instant I knew they were mine.


Two little boys, and they are beautiful. Timothy has dark brown hair like his daddy, and dark brown eyes. He likes it best when Jesus calls him Timmy. Titus has the whitest blond hair and blue-green eyes. He was very quiet and barely spoke, except to wipe my tears away and ask why I was crying. He likes to be called Ti-Ti. They showed me all their favorite places to play in Heaven. The pond where they can skip on top of the water, the places they like to play in the garden and the place their secret place where Jesus comes and hides with them. They have a cute little brown and white dog that follows them everywhere. Timothy told me that the angels came and carried them to Heaven. When they got there all the angels sang and cheered for them, then Jesus came and gave them big hugs. They met Grampa Thomas in the garden and took me to see him. I ran around playing with them for what seemed like forever and just a moment at the same time. They are so beautiful and full of life. They are amazing. It was so wonderful to hold them in my arms and give them so many kisses. They hugged me and held my hands and it was like we had known each other forever. They weren't sad when I left, they were with Jesus and they just laughed and told me to come back to play with them soon. They are perfect.


In that perfect moment, I knew that God was in control. That in all my sorrow and heartache, my two perfect boys were with Jesus, they were fine. I am so thankful that even in our darkest moments, God is always good.

 I will say it again,

  God is always good.

 We just don't get the opportunity to see it unless we 

CHOOSE

to look for it. Even in the darkest nights, we can see the beautiful, we just have to keep our eyes open and looking for God.