I’m Angry That This Happened

I will never forget the exact moment when the process started. I was back-to-school shopping with my girls, looking for clothes for my up and coming kindergartner. In the midst of this milestone of an occasion, my heart started beating rapidly and I could no longer think straight. One quick trip to the bathroom and I was gripped with fear.

We finished shopping and made it out of the store in record timing. Once we were home I immediately locked myself in the bathroom and began to cry. That night was the worst. The cries turned into deep weeping and agonizing pain, as I begged and pleaded for an alternative explanation before the Lord. I knew that I had just experienced loss in January, but 5 years ago I had a similar scare and that child was heading to school in a matter of days. 

The praise and worship music blasted in our bedroom and the tears continued to pour out of my eyes. I tried to allow my faith to be bigger than my fear. I was determined to walk by faith and not by sight even though it seemed an impossible task as the bleeding continued. 

Over and over I said these words:

I declare that my baby is fine. I declare that my baby is fine. I declare that my baby is fine.

In Jesus’ Name.

Amen.

I held onto hope as much as I possibly could. I wavered and crumbled and picked myself up time and time again. Those 5 days were the longest. Finally it stopped. I felt a sense of relief but it didn’t last. So what did this mean? I needed confirmation.

Two negative tests and an ultrasound later, I think I heard my heart actually breaking. 

It happened again. I miscarried again. And I’m so angry about it. 

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The Real Reason Why I Don’t Watch the Oscars

The Oscar’s were on this weekend, and I didn’t watch them. I could have. Years ago I would have. But for the 7th year in a row I simply couldn’t bring myself to do it.

In fact, I forgot that Sunday was the 89th Academy Awards until I happened upon a photo of Janelle Monáe in her dazzling gown. In the past that would have been enough to draw me in, but not anymore.  

Instead I kept the T.V. off., did some random stuff around the house, and after about 10 minutes of scrolling on Facebook the next morning I got a pretty comprehensive recap of what I missed:

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Miscarried Away

*To my precious pregnant friends, or anyone else for whom miscarriage is a trigger, please refrain from reading this post if you have any inkling that it will upset you. I appreciate your love and support, and regardless of what I’m going through know that I rejoice with you.* 

Inevitable Miscarriage

As I signed my name at the bottom of the discharge paper, my eyes fixed on those two words. I held myself together long enough to make it to the doors, but as soon as the wind hit my face the tears came hard and heavy.

I couldn’t think, I couldn’t breathe, I couldn’t process a thing.

I couldn’t believe this was actually happening.

It wasn’t a dream. It was my harsh, cruel, and excruciatingly painful reality. 

We had lost our baby and my heart was shattered into a million pieces.

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We’re Stronger Together

You know that old adage. “If you don’t have anything nice to say, don’t say anything at all?” Yeah, well, that’s kind of how I feel about 2016.

I completely understand that this whole calendar thing is man-made, and I know it means nothing in terms of reflecting the inner-workings of God and His ultimate time-table.

I totally get that.

Still, this year, these past 12 months, have been a doozy. Both personally and as a family.

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To the Ones Without Their Dad on Father’s Day

Dear Friend,

I know the feeling. 

So much joy mixed with a twinge (or stab) of pain. Father’s being hailed, honored and cherished, as they should be, and yet someone special is missing from your festivities.

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