I’ve always said I’m not a writer. But when I’m experiencing what would be considered a major struggle or adversity God gives me the words.
I never imagined I’d experience a miscarriage, I don’t think anyone does. Research and data say 15-20% of pregnancies end in miscarriage, but again that isn’t a statistic you think you’ll belong to. I’m sure if anything you hope and pray to be in the 80%.
When our world was turned upside down on March 13th miscarriage became a part of my story, and knew in my heart with the strongest of convictions that I needed to share my story.
Since sharing my news I’ve had many friends, internet friends, and strangers reach to me to thank me for being brave enough to share my reality. They shared their own stories, oftentimes so similar to ours. They said things like time heals. They reminded me its okay to cry and yell. They said they would pray for me.
Every time I read a message that said they too experienced loss my heart broke for them. My heart broke thinking about what they went through the day they found out. My heart broke when so many of them told me they never shared with friends and families that they were pregnant and lost the baby. I cried for them, because the pain is so deep. Once you’ve experienced it yourself everything changes.
The more these messages keep coming in the more I know I need to keep sharing.
Sharing and talking about it as a way for me to grieve and heal, and also a way for others to feel less alone on their own loss journey.
I know there are many stages of grief, and anger is one of them, but I haven’t experienced it yet. I have a deep sadness in my heart and soul.
I’m sad for our sweet September who went to be with Jesus.
I feel sadness for our daughter who is sad she won’t have a baby brother or sister and doesn’t get to yet be a big sister.
I’m sad for the hole I’ll always have in my heart for that sweet September baby.
Thinking about the memories our family will never get to make with that sweet baby makes my heart ache, but the sadness seems too deep to allow for anger to come in.
The more I talk about it, the more I give myself the room to think about it and share about it the more I grieve, and I know that is what I need in order to heal.
