National Day of Remembrance For Pregnancy and Infant Loss

Six years ago this December I lost what would have been my third child. We were so excited when we found out we were pregnant with our little one. I told everyone immediately. I am a pretty healthy gal; some would say a health nut. I had always had great pregnancies, so why not go ahead and share our joy?

Eight weeks into my pregnancy I started spotting. No big deal I thought. After all, I had spotted with my 2nd child and she was fine. At the urging of my mother I went to the doctor and found out my placenta was starting to detach from my uterus. I was instructed to be on bed rest all weekend and come back on Monday. The weekend would determine whether or not my placenta would reattach itself to my uterus or go ahead and continue detaching. I followed doctor's orders, although it was hard to sit still so long. I cried and I prayed and cried and prayed and cried; begging God to take care of this baby. My hubby had rented several movies for me to watch during my sedentary state. He took off Sunday morning and took the kids to church. My tummy had been cramping off and on all weekend. I remember being so fearful every time I would go to the bathroom. This Sunday morning, when I was all alone, my worst fear would come true. I went to the bathroom and there on the toilet tissue lay my baby. The moment I saw him/her I knew exactly what it was. Oh what a memory I wish I did not have! I screamed in agony. I cried so, so hard!!! I don't' even have words to describe how hard I cried. It was a time with just the LORD and I. I questioned over and over and over again, "Why?" I battled feelings of being an inadequate mother to my other children. My thoughts were, "after all, why would God take a baby from me if he didn't think I was doing a good job with my other children?"


One memory I distinctly remember is the Sunday after I had lost my baby I went to church. We have a time of intercessory prayer during our service and during this time I went and bowed face down at the altar. So many dear, sweet ladies surrounded me and cried (I mean hard tears with me). As I type this post, tears are falling from my eyes remembering that day.

It was a long, hard journey after my miscarriage. My husband was sad, but certainly not to the depth I was. He really tried to understand, but really just couldn't. Others would try to offer comfort and tell me to be thankful for my other children. Some would say I needed to get it together for my other children. TOUGH, TOUGH TIMES!!! I remember the morning time was always the worst - that feeling of loneliness in the pit of your stomach. This was a journey that only the LORD and I could take; none could go with me. For the longest time I always felt like I had a dark cloud following me around. I would try to laugh and "act" like I was okay with everything, but I was only pretending. The LORD used this time in my life to humble me and to show me things about myself that I was blinded to. He drew me into such an intimacy with Him and comforted me as only He could. I kept a prayer journal during this time, and just communicating my feelings to the LORD on paper brought so much healing.


I know when I get to heaven there is a sweet baby in heaven, my baby. I will hold that baby and rock him/her over and over and over again.


I have to say though God is so good and He is so faithful. He did bless me with another child - my little Hanna Boo, who is now 5. I wouldn't trade her for ANYTHING!!! So, if it meant I had to go through a storm in my life to get her, I would do it all over again. God is sovereign and He knows what He is doing!

Please stop and say a prayer for anyone who has lost a child or is possibly in the midst of losing a child. Thank you.