Psalm 25:3  Indeed, none who wait for you shall be put to shame.

Psalm 66:5  Come and see what God has done: He is awesome in His deeds toward the children of man.

I have finally found enough time to sit down and type out Nora’s birth story. It’s kind of long but I’ve been dreaming about this day for over two years and I don’t want to forget any of the details. As I mentioned in a previous post, I was scheduled to be induced on Monday, July 20th, so I went in on Sunday to have some last minute blood work done to get all the blood ready for Nora in case she needed it on Monday. I had a huge to do list for that Sunday, so I was anxious to get back to the Ronald McDonald House after the blood work. I actually had saved things to do until that day so that I could be busy and have something to do instead of worry about the induction. My hospital bag wasn’t completely packed, I desperately needed a shower, the boys’ big brother shirts weren’t set out, cameras were not charged or ready, I needed to go to the grocery store and do laundry. My parents had just arrived the night before from Alabama and were planning on moving into the Ronald McDonald House that day. While I was having blood work done my dad and Josh decided at the last minute to take the boys to a Houston Astros baseball game that started at 1:00.

I was kind of surprised when I got to the hospital because they started checking me in and wanted me to put a hospital gown on. I told them I wasn’t staying, I was just having blood work done so they said I didn’t have to put the gown on, but they were required to hook me up to the monitor while I was waiting to have my blood drawn. As usual, I had a couple contractions while on the monitor. I had actually had a lot of intense contractions (about every 8 minutes) the night before but they had settled down some. When I had the contractions on the monitor, though, I noticed that Nora’s heart rate slowed down a lot. It was unlike her to get stressed out with a contraction. We’ve had many NSTs (which show contractions and the baby’s heart rate) over the past few months and Nora has never had any problem handling my frequent contractions. I felt kind of concerned. The nurse came in and said she had noticed the decelerations as well and was going to tell the doctor. “You might be having this baby sooner than you think!” she said brightly. WHAT?! I was NOT prepared and Josh had just left for a baseball game! The doctor came in and said he was not sure why Nora’s heart was slowing down but it is usually a sign of distress. He said the cord could be wrapped around her neck, she could be anemic and weak or the placenta might not be functioning properly anymore. All of those options sounded scary to me so that definitely made me want to get her out as soon as possible. The doctor said he was going to contact Dr. Moise and see what he thought we should do. He did not want to send me home if Nora was in any danger so he said I would probably be spending the night while on the monitor and still be induced the next morning.

I was admitted and moved up to my room in labor and delivery and was kind of surprised when I saw this sign:

Happy Birthday Nora?! I couldn’t believe that it might actually be her birthday. It was always July 20th in my mind. My nurse came in and said that the blood bank had called and said they already had all of the blood prepared for Nora in case she needed a transfusion after birth. They had decided to go ahead and start the induction since the blood was ready and there was no point in waiting until the morning. I texted Josh and told him to leave the baseball game as soon as possible because Nora was coming early! This was actually a secret dream of mine ever since I was induced with Liam at 41 weeks and then Asher (also at 41 weeks) and then Lucy. I always wanted to go into labor on my own and have that feeling of “Surprise! We’re having a baby NOW.” Well, I got to experience it with my Nora.

My regular OB, who was supposed to deliver Nora, was on his way back from vacation and wouldn’t be arriving until the following morning (when Nora was scheduled to be born.) I was sad that he wouldn’t be delivering her. I never saw the doctor on call who was supposed to deliver Nora. The nurse started me on pitocin to get the contractions going and they checked to see how dilated I was- 4 centimeters. Josh showed up a little while later and they broke my water. We were so excited and happy, it felt like the best Christmas day ever. I didn’t even mind the pain, I savored all of it.

Feeling crazy excited to be in labor!

After about 3 hours in labor they checked me again and I was only 5 centimeters, which was kind of discouraging. I was going to wait until the contractions were unbearable before getting an epidural but the nurse said there was really no point in waiting (unless I just wanted to.) I did remember that with Asher it had taken me a long time to get to about 5 or 6 centimeters and then the last few happened FAST and he started crowning before the doctor was even in the room. I’m so glad the nurse convinced me to get the epidural when she did because things did happen quickly after that. The epidural was so wonderful, the warmth of the pain leaving my abdomen was heavenly. I could still feel all the pressure with the contractions, but no pain. The whole time I was laboring we could hear Nora’s heart rate decelerating with my contractions but the nurses did not seem very concerned. They said it’s ok if her heart rate goes down with the contraction but if it goes down right after the contraction it’s a bad sign. Nora’s was going down with most of the contractions but sometimes it would drop after the contraction.

After the epidural was in place and I could rest a bit I started feeling very emotional. Every single time I had envisioned this day over the past two and a half years I had cried, overwhelmed by the weight of it- the weight of the joy and redemption that would come with a living baby, and the weight of sadness at the memory of my dead baby girl. I cried for Lucy and for all the women who have had to labor and give birth to a silent baby. There could be one right down the hall from me at that very moment for all I knew. I cried with relief that we had made it to this day and she still had a heart beat. Her heart beat brought me out of my emotional bog and back into the moment. Her heart was dropping dangerously low as my contractions increased in strength and frequency. The nurse tried adjusting my position, helping me roll from side to side, hoping it would help. It didn’t really. She tried putting me on oxygen and when that didn’t really help she finally tried turning the pitocin off completely. This seemed to help Nora some since it slowed down the contractions but I couldn’t really progress much without the pitocin to keep the contractions going. I asked if we should maybe just do a c-section since I was only dilated to 5cm and Nora was already so stressed out by the labor. The nurse said that we wouldn’t need a c-section unless there was an emergency. I told her I didn’t want to wait until there was an emergency. I didn’t care about the delivery, vaginal or c-section, I just wanted my baby to be alive. She told me that Nora would be alive, but my anxiety was rising, as was Josh’s. The nurse restarted the pitocin and Nora did not like the stronger contractions. Her heart rate slowed down, boom..boom..boom……..boom……………..boom…………………………boom, below 50 beats per minute. Then it stopped altogether. We could not find her heart beat. The nurse moved the monitor around and around on my belly. Her face was calm but I sensed panic just under the surface. I looked at Josh in despair and he just watched, frozen in his seat. “Turn on your left side” said the nurse, and I turned and she searched and couldn’t find anything. “Turn on your right side” and I turned and she searched and found no sign of life. I lay flat on my back and she finally found a slow heart beat, boom………………….boom…………….boom……..boom. We were SO relieved to hear that sound! I insisted on having a c-section. I wanted Nora OUT. I wanted her alive. The nurse said it wasn’t necessary. I said I wanted to talk to the doctor. My OB wasn’t there. He and I had discussed this very scenario several times during the office visits and we both agreed that if Nora showed any signs of distress we would do a c-section. I wished so badly for him to be there. Another contraction came on strong and Nora’s heart beat slowed down…below 50…then 0. When Lucy was dying and they put me on the monitor her heart rate was in the sixties. The doctors said she was dying and there was nothing they could do. Now Nora’s heart rate was dipping below 50 and disappearing. I started to panic. The nurse also seemed rattled and rushed over to the phone, called an emergency code and several people rushed into the room. “Flip onto your left side, your right side, lay flat on your back, sit up…” They searched and searched with the monitor and couldn’t find her heartbeat. “Oh Jesus, let her live. Please.” I prayed silently and Josh and I locked eyes again. We finally heard Nora’s heart rate come back up. I wept and told them to get the doctor in there NOW. I wanted a c-section. I asked if they remembered that it was a high risk pregnancy, that Nora could be anemic and stressed out, or what if the cord was around her neck? “Oh, the cord is usually around the neck and it’s fine.” they said. I asked why we were risking my daughter’s life just to avoid a c-section. It didn’t make sense and it was against my wishes. I asked what their plan was if her heart beat didn’t come back next time and they said they would rush me into the OR for an emergency c-section and then try to revive her. I asked them why we should wait until her heart stops to get her out?! I was FRANTIC. Four women stood around the bed and I pointed at them, with tears streaming down my face and said, “I am the one who has to live with a dead baby if she dies. Not YOU or YOU or YOU or YOU. None of you have to live with the consequences if she dies, but I do. She is going to die if we don’t do something!” (I am thankful for the nurses’ compassion and patience with me now looking back, but at the time I was extremely frustrated by their lack of action.)

The next contraction came on strong and her heart slowed down. I felt a lot of pressure down low and I knew it was her head. I told them I think she’s crowning and they said she couldn’t be since they just checked me less than an hour ago and I was only 5 centimeters dilated. I told them to check. One of the nurses did and sprang into action, “You’re fully dilated and she’s crowning!” They called the doctors, the pediatrician, the NICU team and they told me NOT to push. I shouldn’t push until the NICU team and pediatrician were in there. They finally made it, a contraction came on and her heart beat disappeared and I pushed with all my might and she was out, just like that. She was beautiful and dark purple. They put her on my chest and rubbed her and she took a breath, thank God.

Her face was so perfect and Josh and I cried with joy and she cried with life. They took her to the little warmer to assess her and Josh said her color changed as she screamed from deep purple to new baby pink.

Relief flooded my body, so much relief. Even now, a week later, I still feel that relief coursing through my body. A huge weight of anxiety has been lifted and I feel so light. Nora weighed 6 pounds 15 ounces and was 20 inches long. Besides Lucy, she is my tiniest baby. Her head was perfectly round because she had been in the birth canal for such a short time. Her head didn’t have time to mold into the typical cone shape. She was so dainty and perfect and seeing Josh gaze at her with those eyes full of love was the best thing ever.

The NICU team let us hold her for a couple minutes and take pictures but had to take her away right after that. They waited by my bedside to whisk her away.

Tears of joy while the NICU team waits to take her away.

They took Nora up to the NICU floor above ours and we weren’t allowed to go with her. Only after they finished their assessment and made sure she was stabilized were we allowed to go visit her. It was surreal to be in the quiet hospital room right after giving birth with no baby around. My parents and the boys came in afterwards but there was no baby to see. They waited for a while but it was late so they left without seeing her. Josh and I were so thrilled that she had arrived alive that we really didn’t mind her being whisked off to the NICU. All of her test results were good but they kept her in the NICU for a day and a night just to monitor her. Josh pushed me in the wheelchair up to the NICU floor every 2-3 hours so I could breastfeed her. We were so sleep deprived but full of joy and thanksgiving. Our Nora Juliet was here.

We chose the name Nora because it means “light” just like Lucy. When Lucy died it felt like we had been plunged into the darkness; deep, mournful darkness. The kind of darkness that envelopes your entire life and tries to suck out your hope and joy. Nora has brought light and hope back into our lives. She owes her life to her sister. Nora is alive because of Lucy. After Lucy died we knew the true danger of my antibodies and we knew that we had to take drastic measures if we wanted our next baby to live. When I was pregnant with Lucy I asked my doctors if maybe we should try plasmapheresis and IVIG. They told me I didn’t need it and it probably wouldn’t work anyway since it was still considered experimental. They also said it was only offered to women who had already lost a baby. I had to wait until my baby died to be eligible for the treatment (which is horrible.) Because Lucy died I was able to have plasmapheresis and IVIG with Nora and we knew we needed to go to Texas so that Dr. Moise could take care of us. It saved her life. If Nora had come first and Lucy second, it would be Nora in heaven and Lucy in my arms. Anyway, we chose Nora to honor Lucy (and because we think it is beautiful.) Later in the pregnancy, I felt like God gave me a verse and it was another sign that Nora was the perfect name. It is the sweetest verse and it humbled me to accept what God was telling me.

Psalm 91:14-16 Because he holds fast to me in love, I will deliver him; I will protect him, because he knows my name. When he calls to me, I will answer him; I will be with him in trouble; I will rescue him and honor him.

The name Nora also means “honor.” God has rescued me (as well as Nora) and has honored me by giving me this gift, my daughter. I am honored to be her mother. Josh and I struggled with her middle name. We had several options but always came back to Juliet. We felt a lot of pressure at first to give a weighty, monumental name since her life is such a miracle, but in the end we gave ourselves permission to use the name “Juliet” simply because we loved it and thought it was pretty. It also sounds like joy and jubilee, the way we feel when we think about our Nora Juliet.

Liam and Asher were finally able to meet Nora the next day. It was right after they had released her from the NICU and brought her down to my room. Having her there with me and seeing her brothers hold her for the first time was one of my favorite moments of my life.

Liam said, “I can’t believe we actually, FINALLY got our baby. I never thought she would come.” He is still in disbelief. For as long as he can remember, we have been praying every night for God to give us a baby we can keep. After Lucy died Liam prayed fervently for “a baby who can sleep in her bed and not in heaven.” I overheard him several times crying in his little toddler bed for his baby sister, for the one who died in Mommy’s belly and for the one that was going to come and stay (he was sure of it.) He also prayed confidently for God to “give Mommy two lines on her test.” He knew that two lines meant a baby was in my belly. That was two years ago and baby Nora is finally here. Thank you, Jesus, for your goodness and faithfulness.

Asher is especially thrilled to be a big brother. Right after he met Nora for the first time he looked up at me with desperate eyes and said, “Mommy, you’re not going to sell her are you?” Ever since I sold some of his old toys in our adoption yard sale fundraiser he has been terrified that I will sell all of his most valuable things. He asked if Nora would still be there tomorrow. I told him she wasn’t going anywhere. He asks regularly if she will still be in our family, still be our baby in a day or in a week. I don’t blame him for being scared and wary of our promises. I have told him three times now that he was getting a baby sister. This time it actually happened and he is very afraid of losing his “baby Nowa.” He also worries that I will possibly replace her with another baby one day. I told him that she will never be replaced by anybody. Poor little guy. Asher is so smitten with Nora. When he first saw her he examined all of her tiny fingers and toes and shouted, “Oh look! She has LEGS.”

We still can’t believe that our Nora is here, alive and breathing. So many times I have envisioned holding her on my chest, smelling her baby skin and feeling her body move up and down with each breath. It was one of the things I missed most when Lucy died. The thought of Lucy never being on my chest alive has been such a painful thought. But I finally was able to hold my Nora there and soak her in.

I was discharged from the hospital after two nights and Nora was discharged with me! All of her blood work was great and she never had any medical intervention at all, just monitoring. We got to take her home with us…more than I ever could have wished for.

Thank you all for sticking with us on this long journey, for praying for us and encouraging us along the way. You have played a HUGE part in getting Nora here safely and we wish we could thank each of you in person. I have read every single comment on my blog and I appreciate all of them. It means so much to me to be able to celebrate her arrival with you all and to see God glorified through this tiny little six pound baby. Please continue to pray for Nora as she is expected to start getting anemic over the next few weeks (my antibodies can stay in her system for up to six weeks.) She has her first appointment with the pediatric hematologist tomorrow morning. I’ll update everybody after her blood results are in.

Lucy means “light” and when my Lucy left, she took all the light with her. I was plunged into darkness. This past year I have felt like God has been leading me through the dark. Can you picture it? We’re in the deep, dark woods that are full of unknown dangers. The ground is uneven, full of underbrush and huge roots jutting out of the earth. God walks ahead of me, gripping my hand, pulling me forward whispering, “Trust me. I can see, even though you can’t. I won’t leave you in the dark.” I have been holding tightly to His hand while I stumble through the dark. I trip often and fall. I get hurt and the pain is excruciating. It feels like He is leading me into danger, the unknown. I strain my eyes. I beg Him for the dawn to come, but still He walks on, leading me in the pitch blackness. But He never lets go of my hand. I can’t see Him, I only see the darkness, but I FEEL Him- holding me up, strengthening me to go on, and promising me that light is ahead.

I can feel the dawn coming. It’s still dark and scary, but I can sense the light about to break forth. If you’ve ever watched the sunrise you know that it doesn’t happen at an exact moment. The changes in the light are so subtle you don’t notice them even if you’re straining your eyes, trying to see. I have been straining my eyes to see the light of hope and joy, but it is still night. I have been straining to see God’s plan in the light of day so that it can make sense, but all I see is darkness. This past weekend as I was listening to another couple share their story of adoption and redemption I started sensing that the dawn is coming. I heard Him whisper, “It’s almost here. Keep going, the light is just ahead.” I heard this couple talk about their own journey through the night and how dark it had seemed right before the dawn. And now, looking back, they see God’s plan so clearly. It all makes sense and it is so PERFECT and BEAUTIFUL. I saw them standing in the blinding warmth of God’s plan coming to fruition. Even though He still has me stumbling through the night, I noticed this weekend that I am starting to make out shapes in the darkness. My night is changing and it is not getting darker. The dawn is coming.

I am still wondering why I lost Jude and Pax. It is always in the back of my mind. I know exactly why we lost Lucy, my immune system thought she was something dangerous and it attacked her. My own body killed the baby it was supposed to protect. I know that the same thing will happen to any other babies who get their Daddy’s blood type- a 50% chance. I also know that it is only possible for my body to attack the baby after he/she starts making his or her own blood in the second trimester.

There is no possible way that my anti-kell antibodies killed Jude and Pax because I lost them early in the first trimester. So what was it? I never had any problems before, never had any miscarriages before. They ran so many tests with Lucy (just to be sure to rule anything else out) and they all came back perfect. She was perfect, Liam and Asher were perfect. After losing Jude and Pax I had a couple of tests done and everything looked great. Just a few weeks ago I was tested for hypothyroidism because it runs in my family and can cause miscarriages/infertility. I also read that it can be triggered by a pregnancy, so I thought maybe my pregnancy with Lucy triggered it and that’s why I lost the next two. But my thyroid is functioning beautifully, which was surprisingly disappointing. I’m tired of wondering why I lost my last two babies and questioning whether it will happen again.

When we decided to try to conceive our rainbow baby after losing Lucy, it took SO much courage. I was ready to fight for him/her in the second and third trimesters, ready to have a NICU baby for as long as it took, ready to try the new treatments and see if they might save our baby. But I lost them before I could even start to fight. I lost the race right at the starting line.

We might never know why we lost them. So many women lose babies and they never know why. I do know that God is in control and He is not surprised by any of this. I also have a strong feeling that we are NOT done trying. Right now we are so excited about our baby that is coming through the gift of adoption, but I do think we will try again naturally one day. Although, my friend who tried for a baby for five years and then adopted a sweet baby girl last year said that adoption has totally changed her heart and her perspective. She said now, she honestly does not care if she has any biological children, she is so in love with her daughter, she can’t imagine her family any other way. So, who knows? I could have a total change of heart after I meet my next baby. Maybe she will make our family complete, maybe we will adopt again or try embryo adoption?

I am so sorry to all the mothers out there who lost babies and have no explanation why. It is a haunting question that lingers in the back of your mind, nagging and irritating. The best thing I know to do is to file this question away, along with my many other unanswered questions, and to ask God when I see Him in person.

Today is our baby Pax’s due date. It is also Father’s Day and my Dad’s birthday, a loaded day, full of emotion. I was so excited to have a baby due on “Grandbarry’s” birthday, to have a fifth child. I always wanted five kids. Before I would commit to dating Josh I asked him if he wanted at least five kids and he said he did. I never could have imagined that one day, we would have five children together, except three of them would be born into heaven. Regardless, I am thankful for the five little people that God has given me to call my own. All of them are special, all of them are deeply loved and all of them had their days written out in God’s book before even one of them came to pass.

I always thought Pax was a boy, although I won’t know for sure until I get to heaven. I wonder how Pax is feeling today in heaven. I have a suspicion that he might be saying something like, “Thank you, Lord, for allowing me to skip all the pain, darkness, sadness and sin, and letting me to come right to paradise. I am so blessed to be one of the lucky ones.” Who knows? Today might be a huge celebration for Pax in heaven. How beautiful that he never had to experience sin or pain, rejection, worry, loneliness, hunger or tiredness. I am glad that I never have to worry about the wellbeing of my babies who are not with me. I know they have been given a better life than the ones I got to keep with me.

Baby Pax,

I love you so much and I miss you every day. Your Daddy misses you too, especially today, on Father’s Day. You are our answer to prayer, and one day we will get to celebrate you like we hoped we could here on earth (but I know it will be so much better there.) Your big brother Liam prayed so many times for God to give Mommy “two lines” on her pregnancy test, and you are our beautiful answer to that prayer, our gift that we don’t get to unwrap until heaven. We can’t wait to meet you, to know who you are, and to let you show us around your amazing home. You were so wanted, you are so loved, and one day I’m going to cover you in kisses. I am so blessed and so proud to be your Mommy.

Our baby Pax’s due date is coming up on June 15th. I feel like there have been so many pregnancy/birth announcements lately and each one is painful, especially now so close to my own due date. A lot of these birth announcements are my answers to prayers for other people, and I am thankful for God’s goodness, but they are still reminders of my shattered dreams for my life. Each announcement usually takes me about two days of extreme sadness to accept and move on. I used to be frustrated with myself for feeling this way. I felt guilty and tried to fight it, but now I have learned to accept it as part of my grieving process and I just get through it and then move on. I am also painfully aware when I go out in public that my two sweet boys are probably someone else’s trigger, a reminder of their own shattered dreams. Lately, I have been working less while my students are on vacation, and Josh is home more to help with the boys, so I have more free time to think and remember my many losses.

Of course I am still mourning my Lucy every day. Yesterday I felt especially sad and was missing her so much. I had to go to a doctor’s appointment and I cried all the way there. I finally pulled it together enough to wipe off my face and clean up my smeared make-up, walk in and put on a fake smile for the other people in the waiting room. I decided to look at a magazine while I was waiting and when I picked it up I noticed the date on the front “July 2013.” It made my heart sink. Anything that has to do with July 2013 makes me instantly sad. I remember after losing Lucy I dreaded that month like the world was coming to an end in July. I remember I almost couldn’t eat or drink anything that had an expiration date of July 2013. Fourth of July decorations still make me feel sick to my stomach. That was the month I should have welcomed my sweet daughter and now I should be planning my girl’s first birthday party. I fought back the tears and quickly put the magazine back on the table. I reached for another one to try to distract myself and immediately noticed the date on the front “February 2013.” You have to be kidding me. That was the worst month of my life, the month I lost my baby and my hope of any more healthy pregnancies. I basically threw the magazine back on the table like it was contaminated with the plague. It was so hard to hold it together for the whole appointment. I cried as soon as I got back into the car. I still miss Lucy every minute of every day.

I am just realizing, though, how deep of a loss it was for me to lose my ability to have healthy pregnancies. I think most of my emotional focus over the past year and a half has been on mourning Lucy. Now I am feeling the deep pain of the fact that I will never be able to just get pregnant and have a live baby. Almost all of the women who lost babies last year now have big, round bellies stretching with the life of their rainbow babies (which is what I have prayed for them.) How wonderful and hopeful that must feel. I can’t even fathom how amazing that must be, to get to the age of viability, to feel your baby kicking every day, to feel your breasts swell in preparation for the baby that will come. All of that is lost for me, and I am still mourning it now.

Adoption is beautiful and full of hope, but it is not for the faint of heart. It means putting your hopes in God’s hands. It means you don’t get to have nine months of bonding with your baby before you meet them face to face. You have to wait for that paper to be signed before you can allow yourself to love freely and give your heart to the baby, because that is when she is actually yours to love. It is hard to wait and not know, to keep releasing your hope and giving it back to God. It is hard to trust Him with your new dreams when you trusted Him with your former dreams but now they lie shattered all around your feet. I often think about how hard it would be to go through a divorce and see your dreams for your marriage shattered. I think about how hard it would be to lose someone you love and have had with you for years, like your spouse, your sibling, your parents. Shattered dreams.

As I said in a previous post, I am currently reading “Shattered Dreams” by Larry Crabb. I had low expectations for this book since my friend randomly bought it for me from the Salvation Army and we both knew nothing about it. It has been surprisingly insightful and encouraging. If you are struggling with your own shattered dreams, I highly recommend you read this book. I’m still not even half way through it, but I’m learning so much. I’m learning that the dreams I had were good, but God has a plan for me here on earth that is better, and He has a life, waiting for me in heaven that is the BEST (and it’s sweet in a way that Lucy, Jude and Pax got to skip right to the BEST.) Sometimes my good dreams have to shatter in order for me to realize my deep need for God and to see His plan for me that’s better.

It’s harder to discover our desire for God when things go well. We may think we have, but more often all we’ve found is our desire to USE God, not to ENJOY Him. Shattered dreams are the truest blessings; they help us discover our true hope. But it can take a long, dark time to discover it.

-Larry Crabb

It is taking me a long, dark time to discover God’s truest blessing for my life and even when I stand here surrounded by the shards of my broken dreams for my life and for my children, He is working on my behalf. None of my pain will be wasted.

Dreams for good things may shatter, but our pain will always have a purpose. It will not go away, but it will do its work. It will stir an appetite for a higher purpose- the better hope of knowing God well enough now to love Him above everything else…and trust Him no matter what happens…We will not suffer in heaven. Every imaginable dream, everything from good parking spaces to good health, will come true. Pain will have no purpose then, so it will not be allowed….For now, while we still have such a hard time realizing that what’s good is not always best, suffering still has a function. As nothing else can, it moves us away from demanding what’s good…toward desiring what’s better…until heaven provides what’s best.

-Larry Crabb

Having Lucy alive and with me right now seems right and good, and it is. Being able to get pregnant easily and have live, breathing babies seems right and good, and it is. Healthy marriages, good jobs, siblings who are alive, they are all good and right. My instinct is to cling tightly to what is good and scream at God, “It’s GOOD, it’s RIGHT! If you are good you should let me have what is GOOD!” But it is only when my dreams for what is good shatter that I am able to see God’s dream for me, something even better. I know that God is saving the best for last. My story will end with the best. And for the mothers who lost babies, our stories will end with a beautiful beginning- the beginning of our eternity with our babies, and that is one of the few dreams that cannot be shattered.

Matthew 6:20 But lay up for yourselves treasures in heaven, where neither moth nor rust destroys and where thieves do not break in and steal.

Today is yet another hard day for us. March 19th, 2014 was Jude’s due date; our precious baby Jude, our fourth child that we know absolutely nothing about. We are so sad that we have to wait until heaven to meet him or her. We are comforted by the fact that Jude is with Lucy and Pax and most of all, Jesus. We are thankful that Jude was not stillborn, and we think that God might have been sparing us from that deep pain by taking Jude early.

When we found out that we might be experiencing a miscarriage, we cried out to God to spare this baby’s life. I sat down with my journal and my Bible and begged God to speak to me, to comfort me or prepare me for whatever was coming. I flipped back to a special promise that God had given me a few weeks after Lucy died-

It was about a month and a half after I lost Lucy. I was still bleeding heavily (6 weeks later, which isn’t normal) so I had to go back to the doctor to have everything checked out. This meant sitting in the waiting room full of happy pregnant women. That morning I woke up and wanted to die, I was so overwhelmed with sadness. To get to my OB’s office you have to walk right past the newborn nursery at the hospital and see the tiny, beautiful newborn babies. I literally didn’t know if I could do it. God reassured me and I felt like He said very clearly, that He was going to tell me something important at my doctor’s appointment. I doubted that anything good could come out of this appointment. When I sat down in the waiting room I looked up and there was a woman from my church who was pregnant and due about a month after Lucy. She was there to find out the sex of her baby and was thrilled. Her face was alight with joy and excitement and innocence. How different our two ultrasounds were going to be that day. I died inside and begged God, “Help me, Jesus, help me. I can’t do this. I want to die, Jesus, help me.” He said, “Look at Psalm 21. It’s for you. I will do this for you.” I was skeptical, but I turned to it right then in the waiting room and read this (I have replaced “The King” with my name, since it was a personal promise for me):

O Lord, in your strength Bethany rejoices, and in your salvation how greatly she exults! You have given her her heart’s desire and have not withheld the request of her lips. For you meet her with rich blessings; you set a crown of fine gold upon her head. She asked life of you; you gave it to her, length of days forever and ever. Her glory is great through your salvation; splendor and majesty you bestow on her. For you make her most blessed forever; you make her glad with the joy of your presence. For Bethany trusts in the Lord, and through the steadfast love of the Most High she shall not be moved.

How sweet is my God to give me that promise right then when I needed it most? It brought me so much peace and it got me through that horrible doctor’s appointment. They had to do an ultrasound to make sure nothing was left in my uterus. There in front of me was my empty womb where Lucy should have been. I turned my head to look away and my eyes landed on the stack of onesies they give out when you find out the sex of your baby. Heartbreak. I thought about the promise God had just given me and it got me through.

So, when I sat down and flipped back in my journal to read that promise I noticed the dates. Do you know when God gave me that promise? March 19th, 2013. Baby Jude’s due date was March 19th, 2014. My heart relaxed with relief because I thought surely this was a sign that this baby would survive. But Jude didn’t make it and our hearts were completely broken. I felt silly for hoping.

Now, here we are on March 19th, 2014. No baby Jude, no baby Pax, no baby growing in my belly, no 8 month old Lucy. But I have the amazing promise that God gave me one year ago today. He will give me my heart’s desire and will not withhold the request of my lips. What have I requested, again and again and again? Lord, give me more children, Lord heal our hearts, Lord be glorified through our pain. He will do it.

This is what is sweet about this promise to me. The thing I have asked God for the most this past year is LIFE. Life for Lucy, life for Jude, life for Pax, more little lives for me to mother. And He promised me specifically:

She asked life of you; you gave it to her, length of days forever and ever.

Lucy, Jude and Pax have been given life, length of days forever and ever, and so have I. I get to have my babies forever. Over the past year I have often wondered if God’s blessings have just run out for me. He blessed me so much for the first 32 years of my life, maybe all He has left for me is suffering. But on this day last year He promised me specifically-

You have given her her heart’s desire…you meet her with rich blessings…for you make her most blessed forever; you make her glad with the joy of your presence.

And yet another beautiful contrast- Since losing Lucy I have felt so LOW- embarrassed, ashamed, sad, hopeless…but with these verses God has promised to bestow on me glory, splendor and majesty. One day He will set a crown of fine gold upon my head. I am trying to focus on this promise today instead of the painful emptiness that should be filled by my sweet little Jude. Would you pray for us today? We are so very tired of grieving and hurting, but we are still trusting.

For Bethany trusts in the Lord, and through the steadfast love of the Most High she shall not be moved.

It’s amazing how dates cement themselves in my mind. As I get closer to Lucy’s birthday, I feel all the things I was feeling a year ago. Sometimes it feels like no time has passed and it was just yesterday that I was losing my daughter slowly, day by day, waiting until her heart stopped forever. A year ago today my baby Lucy was given a blood transfusion while still in the womb. She was extremely anemic and the doctors thought this blood transfusion could save her life. It was deemed a miraculous success, and everyone thought she would be fine. I never felt her kick again and I knew that it wasn’t a success.

I have written about it in Letting Lucy Go, but on this day a year ago I felt God ask for my daughter. It was probably the hardest decision of my life. I know that if I had said no to God, she still would have died, but I think it has helped that He asked first. I knew He was asking me to follow Him into suffering and I am thankful that He gave me the choice before He took her. I told Him He could take her if He needed to. Here is my journal entry from a year ago. I wrote down the truths that comforted me that day that I gave my baby back to God. These truths have comforted me throughout this past year and they are still true today.

• I have her for eternity
• I will give her life for God’s glory if He asks
• She is His anyway
• Abraham gave his son to God. God gave His Son for us. I will hold my daughter’s life with an open hand
• My life’s purpose is to glorify God (and enjoy Him), not to keep my daughter with me
• He will sustain me
• I will be strong and courageous in Him

I think my favorite truth is that I will have Lucy for eternity. I don’t know if I will get to keep Liam and Asher for eternity. They have to decide whether or not they will trust God and love Him. I pray that they will, and I think they will. But I know for sure that Lucy and Jude and Pax wait for me in heaven, and what a sweet promise that is. As I wrote in my journal a year ago today, He will sustain me and He has through the worst year ever. He has given me strength and courage to keep going and not give up, and for that I am thankful.

And by the way, I know God did not kill Lucy, but He did allow it. He could have saved her and He didn’t, so I trust that He has a purpose for allowing such a tragedy. My gain will be greater than my suffering, as was Lucy’s.

Here’s what I posted on Facebook the night before Lucy’s blood transfusion. I want to repeat it today because I think it is important:

As I sit here thinking about the fact that there’s a good chance my baby might die in my womb tomorrow, one thing keeps coming to mind…I have her for eternity. If things don’t go well tomorrow I know that I will spend eternity with her in heaven. If you don’t know God personally I challenge you to consider it. There’s just no better way to do life. God is real. He carries our burdens for us and offers peace and joy and eternal life. What could be better than that?

“I have said these things to you, that in me you may have peace. In the world you will have tribulation. But take heart: I have overcome the world.” John 16:33

It has taken me a while to write about our baby Pax because it was just too painful at first and I needed a little privacy to work through my fresh grief. I’m feeling healed enough now to share a little bit about our baby Pax.

Pax is our 5th child, who we lost to an early miscarriage in October. We thought he/she would be our rainbow baby after losing Lucy and Jude, but it wasn’t to be. We were so excited to get another positive pregnancy test, but very cautious with our hope. The exact same thing happened with Pax that happened with Jude in July. I got a positive pregnancy test, and another and another. I even tested with a few different brands to make sure it was right. After several days I noticed the second line on the tests stopped getting darker and a few days after that I noticed them getting lighter. We lost the baby at the exact same gestation as Jude. Strangely, I had a lot of peace the whole time. I think I’m learning to hold my children with an open hand (or maybe I’m just getting pessimistic.) Either way, God blessed me with peace as I was losing my third baby in eight months. That is a miracle.

My doctor reminded me that this early loss is not connected to anti-kell antibodies at all, since that can’t affect the baby until about 16 or 17 weeks at the earliest. The doctor couldn’t find any reason for this miscarriage, just like my last one with Jude.

We decided to name our baby “Pax” because it means peace. I always wanted to name one of my babies Pax, but Josh said absolutely not because Brad Pitt and Angelina Jolie have a kid named Pax and he didn’t want people to think we were copying them. Well, after we lost this baby he said we could use the name, so I finally got my baby Pax. I always wanted five kids and now I have them. I feel blessed, but it feels strange for my children in heaven to outnumber my children on earth.

Unfortunately, I never got an ultrasound picture of the baby, but I do have pictures of me while I was pregnant with Pax. Here I am with my boys (and baby Pax) at the Memphis zoo. It was a fun, sunny day and I remember feeling so happy, almost buoyant. I am blessed to have this one happy memory with my baby Pax (and my other two lovies, of course.)

Pax was due on June 15th, my Dad’s birthday. It has been hard to see other women who are due in June announce their pregnancies. It is hard to see their bellies grow round with the life of their child while mine, yet again, remains flat. And it is hard to see my boys lose the heart to keep praying for a baby they can keep. Losing a baby is so hard, at any stage. Losing THREE is devastating. But God, He is my redeemer and He has given me peace. Nothing can separate me from His love and nothing can separate my children from His love. Even though I am not full of joy right now, it is well with my soul.

“JOY”  -One of my favorite songs since losing Lucy. I cry every time I hear it.

This is hard for me to write. I had to gather all of my emotional energy just to sit down and write this post. We are losing another baby to a very early miscarriage. This is our third loss in eight months. We are disheartened and discouraged and just so tired. These last two early losses are totally unrelated to anti-kell antibodies, so this seems bizarre to me. I’ve never had any problems conceiving or having healthy pregnancies before losing Lucy. We are trying to figure out what has changed since then to cause these early losses. We are wondering if it’s something hormonal (stress/anxiety or low progesterone?) and are looking into it. Please pray that we figure out what is going on.

This pregnancy was a bit different for me because right from the beginning I said to God, “Thank you for this new life, do what you want with it. Whether this pregnancy progresses is up to you and I’m giving it totally over to you.” Honestly, I didn’t let myself get too excited (which is sad in a way) because I knew anything could happen. I didn’t expect to have a screaming baby in my arms next June. I just gave it over to God again and again and He has allowed us to face another loss. I still trust Him, but I am so very tired of all the loss and hurt. I know one day He will do something wonderful with it, but it sure is taking a long time. I just have to trust.

When I was in the hospital after losing Lucy I had a very vivid dream that I felt was from God. I had a perfect rose in my hand and it was in bloom. It was beautiful, but it had been uprooted. I knew that if I didn’t plant it in the dirt, it would die. I was digging frantically and trying to force it into the ground, but it wouldn’t work. I knew even in the dream that the rose symbolized Lucy. I wanted to keep the rose alive so badly, but I couldn’t. Next to me, lying on the ground, were two more roses, uprooted. They were waiting for me to try to plant them in the dirt. Just then a huge dragon-bird creature came flying at me. It’s claws were stretched out in front of it and it looked terrifying. It swooped down and snatched my precious rose out of my hands and flew off into the sky with it. I was devastated. I woke up drenched with sweat and breast milk (that’s when I realized my milk had come in.) I was so scared and told Josh about the dream and said, “What if those other two roses are our next two babies? What if that means we’re going to lose two more babies?” He tried to be optimistic and suggested that maybe the two roses signified two more healthy babies or they were for Liam and Asher. I had the strong feeling that it meant we would lose two more babies. Here we are, eight months later, with two more lost babies.

A few weeks after losing Lucy I decided to try to figure out what the dragon bird was. It kept coming to my mind and it seemed confusing because I knew God didn’t let some terrifying beast come take Lucy. I googled it and guess what it was?

It was a phoenix.

It looked just like this in my dream. The phoenix is a mythological bird that lives for a long time and then bursts into flames and burns. Out of the ashes, the phoenix is reborn and restored to life. The phoenix symbolizes regeneration, rebirth and new life. Some say it symbolizes the victory of life over death. Life from the ashes. How sweet that God would send me that dream to tell me that even though I couldn’t plant my rose here on earth, He would take it and restore it to life by planting it in heaven. My roses are alive and blooming, and they are planted right where they are supposed to be. I only hope that as the dream showed, only three babies of mine won’t be able to bloom here on earth.

Please pray that we don’t lose any more babies. Please pray that we don’t lose hope. God promised me that He would redeem it, so I will cling to that promise with all I’ve got.

Hebrews 10:23 Let us hold fast the confession of our hope without wavering, for He who promised is faithful.

These last few weeks I have been getting through the days weighted down with stifling depression and grief. Sometimes it lets up, but since I lost Jude it has laid heavy on me. This last week I let myself be honest with God and I said, “You say you will be close to the broken hearted, you say you are the God of all comfort. You say you will heal me and let me feel your presence. Where are you? Come and be my comfort, my peace, my healing. Show me that you are telling the truth.”

Every time I have prayed this kind of prayer (which has been quite often since losing my Lucy) God answers me, and He almost always answers me through other people. This past week a woman from my church told me about her 14 week loss many years ago. She gave me this sweet little pin and said it was for me to remember baby Jude.

She told me it was hers after she lost her son and she used to keep it in her pocket for comfort and now she was giving it to me. It was so sweet. I have several things to remember Lucy by, but very few things for Jude, so this was just perfect. I felt so comforted that she would share this with me and let me share in her loss too. I also felt God’s love through her.

The next day a little girl from my church emailed me and asked if it would be ok if she and her friend made Lucy a blanket. I cried when I read it because I have been thinking lately how sad it is that I didn’t even get Lucy a pretty, girly blanket. I could have wrapped her in it and it would have been so special. It also meant so much to me that these little girls even remembered Lucy. Most people have moved on and rarely think about her, and I think about her every minute and cry for her every day. What a sweet expression of love for these girls to remember Lucy and to remember me. I cried again when Savannah and Briley brought over the pretty blanket they made for Lucy. I loved it. It even had her name on it. These little girls probably just wanted to do something nice for someone, and they probably have no idea how God used their kindness to encourage me this week. After they brought me the blanket I felt like God was saying, “See? I love you and you are important to me.” This blanket is now one of my most prized possessions. I will love it until the day I die. I can picture myself as an old, wrinkled lady holding this Lucy blanket and still feeling the comfort from it, still feeling the love of the body of Christ that it represents, even decades from now.

Sometimes the smallest act of kindness can mean the world to someone else. If you are a woman who has suffered a pregnancy loss and you know someone who has just lost a baby themselves, be brave and share your story with them. I have found the most comfort from women who have lost babies themselves and I always think, “What if she hadn’t said anything?” Thank you Savannah and Briley for listening to the Holy Spirit’s prompting and for making such a beautiful blanket for my Lucy. And thank you to every single woman who has ever been brave enough to tell me about the baby you have lost. You have comforted me and encouraged me so much and you inspire me to tell more people about my Lucy and Jude.

Every baby is special, every life is important, and every Mom wants to show off her baby. For those of us who lose our babies too soon, we don’t ever get to show them off and we rarely get to say their names or tell people about them. In our country, thousands of babies are stillborn every year, roughly one every twenty minutes. There are even more miscarriages. Here on my blog, I want to remember all of the lost babies and give their parents an opportunity to show them off. These Mamas are so proud of their babies and are going to share them with us here. Since Lucy died on a Friday, I will share a new baby’s story every Friday. We honor these little lives by acknowledging their presence with us, even if it was a very short time. Do you know how these babies are loved? Do you know that each baby was cherished by their families, even if they left only after a few weeks? Do you know how these babies are missed every single day? Please pray for these families, who have to live every day without their precious children.

JUDE WEATHERSBY

I know it might seem silly to write about a baby that I know absolutely nothing about and only developed for a few weeks, but Jude is my baby and I want to honor his or her life. Jude is my fourth child, my second child to skip earth and go straight from my womb to heaven. Jude is Liam, Asher and Lucy’s baby brother or sister. Jude was due on March 19th, 2014 and was lost in an early miscarriage.

Our baby Jude was such a miracle and answer to prayer, even though we never got to meet him/her. After losing Lucy we were told we shouldn’t ever try again naturally for a baby. We never thought we would be able to try again. I never thought I would be able to watch that second line slowly appear and feel my heart drop right out of my chest. What a blessing that we got to do that again and that we now have another sweet baby to look forward to meeting in heaven.

I found out I was pregnant on Lucy’s due date and I wept because I loved my new baby so much already. I thought that maybe I could just hold back the love for my next baby until I knew if I would get to meet him or her, but when I saw those two pink lines I knew it would be impossible. It felt great to let go and just love my new baby with all my heart. Josh warned me to be careful because we might not get to keep the baby. We both agreed that we were terrified, but then decided to just soak in the moment. At that moment I was pregnant and there was a brand new life growing and that’s what we could celebrate, and we did. I’m glad I did now, and I’m glad I loved my new baby with all my heart because I had Jude with me for such a short time. I don’t regret anything. Baby Jude was our rainbow baby, the joy after the storm. For the short time I knew I was pregnant I felt hope and joy and I laughed and food tasted good again. It was beautiful, just like a rainbow; gorgeous and mesmerizing and fleeting.

I have no pictures of Jude, not even an ultrasound picture, but I have pictures of me while I was pregnant so here are a couple (aren’t my boys SO good at taking pictures?)

“A person’s a person, no matter how small.” -Dr. Seuss

If you would like to share your baby’s story, just e-mail me at [email protected]  You can share whatever you want about your baby, and you don’t have to include your name if you don’t want to. Also, I think your baby is just as important if you lost him/her at 6 weeks or at 40 weeks. Even if you never knew the sex of your baby, you might have had names picked out, a due date and lots of hopes and dreams for that child. All of that is important and is welcome here.

We found out on Lucy’s due date that we were pregnant with baby number four and we were so thrilled. I actually had an appetite for the first time since losing Lucy and it was glorious. I ate everything I wanted and the food actually tasted GOOD. I forgot that food can taste good. I also felt my “pregnancy heartbeat”. Every time I’m pregnant one of the first symptoms I notice is my heartbeat getting weirdly loud and strong, like my heart is working really hard (which it is.) Actually, I knew I was pregnant with Asher long before I took the test because my heart was pounding so hard I could feel it in my ears. I felt my heartbeat change to that weird pregnancy boom boom boom in my chest and I knew I was pregnant. Anyway, the pregnancy test showed a faint positive so I took another test the next day and it was a darker positive and the next day the line was even darker. I was so excited to finally get my rainbow baby (a baby that comes after a pregnancy loss, the hope after the storm.) On Lucy’s due date I put this “Big Brother in Charge” shirt on Asher to celebrate Lucy, because she made Asher a big brother, even if no one recognizes it. It was also to celebrate our new baby who would be Asher’s baby sister or brother here on earth.

(Yes, that’s a giant shoe behind him)

Four or five days after our first positive pregnancy test I took another test and realized the test result line wasn’t any darker than the last one. I knew this was a bad sign because with all three of my previous pregnancies the test line got darker and darker every day, never lighter. The next day I noticed my appetite was completely gone so I took another test and it was a VERY faint pink line. That day I realized that my heartbeat felt normal. Later, my OB confirmed with a blood test that I was having an early miscarriage. Josh and I are so sad. We loved this baby so much already. Now it seems extra cruel that we found out we were pregnant on Lucy’s due date.

Proverbs 13:12  Hope deferred makes the heart sick, but a longing fulfilled is a tree of life.

Our hearts are sick because our hopes for another baby have been deferred yet again. My OB reminded me that this miscarriage has nothing to do with the anti-kell antibodies that killed Lucy. Anti-kell antibodies can only affect the baby in the second or third trimester, never the first. This is a very common thing that happens, some doctors say over 50% of all pregnancies end in an early miscarriage. I knew that the second and third trimester would be very risky, but for some reason I thought I could relax for the first trimester. Sadly, no one is exempt from the normal first trimester risks that come with every pregnancy.

When I found out I was pregnant I immediately started to worry that I would lose the baby, like Lucy. I repeatedly envisioned myself holding this tiny baby in the palm of my hand. I held my baby up to God and unclenched my fist and told Him that the baby was His and I trusted Him with my baby. I also asked God to protect our hearts from being wounded again so deeply like we have been through the loss of our Lucy. I told God that if this baby was going to die in the second or third trimester, then I just wanted Him to take the baby now. He did, and I trust Him and I’m thankful that He did protect our hearts. We are hurting, but for us, it’s nothing like going through a stillbirth. We also know that our baby is safe and happy in paradise with God and with his or her big sister, Lucy. I now have two in heaven and two on earth and I’m glad that all of my children have a sibling with them. Yesterday as I watched Liam and Asher wrestle and play with each other I imagined Lucy and her new brother or sister doing the same thing in heaven and it made me happy.

This baby is no less important and special than Liam, Asher or Lucy. We have named the baby Jude because we think every baby deserves a name, no matter how long he or she was with us. I always liked Jude for a boy or a girl and it means “praise.” It’s a reminder of our commitment to praise God, even in our darkest moments. I know I’ve shared it before, but one of my favorite verses is:

Job 13:15 Though He slay me, yet will I trust in Him.

And not only will we trust Him, but we will praise Him too. We praise Him for this beautiful new life that He created in me and we praise Him for who He is. God doesn’t change with our circumstances. He is good and He is the same yesterday, today and tomorrow. He had all of baby Jude’s days written down in His book, even if his or her life was only a few short days or weeks in my womb. We praise Him for giving up His own son so that we can meet our baby Jude in heaven one day. Please pray for us as we mourn the loss of baby Jude even as we continue to mourn Lucy. Also pray that we will get to keep the next baby with us here on earth, healthy and safe in our arms.

Psalm 42:5  Why, my soul are you downcast? Why so disturbed within me? Put your hope in God, for I will yet praise Him, my Savior and my God.

“All people suffer loss. Being alive means suffering loss. Living means changing, and change requires that we lose one thing before we gain something else.” -Jerry Sittser

I have come to realize that I am really bad at suffering. Losing Lucy was the first time I have ever suffered a tragic loss and it has been hard to learn how to live with suffering. I know it will get better, but this pain will never go away. It’s such a foreign concept to me. I think one reason I love Elisabeth Elliot is because she is so good at suffering. Her first husband was murdered and then her second husband died of cancer. She also had a granddaughter who was stillborn. She isn’t bitter or drowning in self pity (although I’m sure she’s had her moments.) She is strong and joyful. She writes amazing things like “Fear God and fear nothing else,” and “The secret is Christ in me, not me in a different set of circumstances.” I want to bear my suffering like she does.

My childhood was wonderful. I wouldn’t change anything about it. My parents reminded me over and over again that I would always be number three in their lives, which was incredibly comforting, believe it or not. My Mom would tell me that God was number one in her life, my Dad was number two and I and my siblings were all number three. Honestly, what could be better?

When I think of my childhood I picture myself climbing one of the mango trees in our backyard while eating a mango at the same time, the juice running down through my fingers all the way to my elbow. I never wore shoes. I always felt loved, I was disciplined consistently and I knew about God from babyhood. I always had four playmates with me wherever we lived. I was happy and confident in who I was. I knew God’s love and I felt Him smiling down on me.

I got my college degree in Early Childhood Education and Elementary Education. I feel like I’m good at teaching and I absolutely love it. I never had to worry about what I wanted to do when I grew up. I knew when I was 5 years old. I married the perfect man for me. He is my best friend. He makes marriage easy. He is the best Daddy I could ever dream up for my children. We got pregnant the very first month we tried. We had a healthy, blonde baby boy 9 months later and we had his healthy, gigantic blonde brother two years later. I knew God’s love and I felt Him smiling down on me.

Then my baby girl died and so did my dreams for a large family like I had grown up in. The shock of the pain was incredible, like nothing I had ever felt before. Excruciating pain. I felt like I was writhing. I wished it was physical pain so at least it would be familiar. Then at least I could take some pain medicine, although it would probably have to be straight morphine to touch the pain. Then, right when our hopes for another baby were rising at the sight of that positive pregnancy test they were dashed so quickly by the loss of our Jude. I felt unprepared for suffering. The most suffering I had ever experienced was breaking up with boyfriends and my three ankle surgeries and one knee surgery (sports injuries, long story.) But that doesn’t come close to the pain of losing my baby and my ability to have safe pregnancies. It suddenly felt like a different world and it did NOT feel like God was smiling down on me.

Sometimes I wonder if I had suffered more in my earlier years would I have been more prepared for this most terrible suffering of my life? Then, I wonder if there is any way to prepare my boys for suffering that is sure to be a part of their future. I know that my job as a mother is to protect my children, but how do I do that while preparing them for suffering at the same time? I’m still not sure how to do that. I do think your childhood is the foundation for the rest of your life. My sons’ childhoods are something that demand protection and love and security. When they look back on their childhoods I want them to feel the magical purity of it, to remember fun and innocence and safety. But I also want them to be prepared for real life when it hits.

When Liam was a baby I was surprised by the intensity of pain involved with teething. He cried for hours, didn’t want to eat or sleep and was obviously in a lot of pain. It was pitiful, but when that tiny, blindingly white tooth finally broke through he felt so much better. It was a sad realization when I remembered that he had a mouthful of teeth to break through in the coming months and years. I wondered why God made teething so painful. He could have engineered it a different way so that it was pain-free like when our hair grows or our bones grow. Maybe He made teething so painful so that babies could prepare for a world that includes pain. Maybe it’s one of His built-in suffering training exercises.

As unprepared for suffering as I felt, what would it have been like if I hadn’t experienced the small sufferings that I did? I was always the foreign girl with a weird accent. In Africa I was the weird American and in America I was the weird African girl with a British accent. I had to start lots of school years at a new school (often in a new country) without any friends. Those surgeries I had in high school and college humbled me in lots of ways and taught me a lot about suffering. Being on crutches for weeks, being in intense pain and having to relearn how to use your foot through hours and hours of physical therapy are good ways to humble a person and acquaint them with suffering. I know that all of the small pains I went through did help with my suffering now, but I still felt very unprepared. I still don’t know how to live with this pain and be ok with it. It is so unnatural for me.

During the month we lost Lucy, my boys stayed with my parents many nights while we were in and out of the hospital. The week after Lucy died, Liam’s behavior was horrible, but we just assumed it was because he had been away from his parents and the fact that his baby sister just died. The morning of his birthday party, one week after Lucy died, he woke up with blood running out of his ear. A lot of blood. And his pajamas and his blankets were all stained with blood. We later found out he had had a terrible ear infection for a while and it got so bad that his eardrum burst! I felt SO bad, I couldn’t believe I let that happen. I felt like such a bad mother. My Mom felt bad too, but she reminded me that, “It’s just making him tough, and preparing him for life.”

A lot of times I feel so guilty that my sons have to go through this tragedy at such an early age. They will grow up knowing that their baby sister is dead. Sometimes, Liam says sad things like, “I love Daddy so much. Does that mean he has to go up to heaven now?” Or “When Lucy went up to heaven we still loved her so much.” And he looks so heartbreakingly confused. I know it’s hard to see your Mommy cry every day and struggle to do simple things like go grocery shopping or go to church. Asher often randomly comes up to me and asks, “Mama? You miss your Lucy?” This is how they are starting off their childhoods, but I can’t change it and I know God is in control. I find comfort knowing that when they are older and they lose someone else they love they will have some experience suffering such a loss. They won’t be floundering in disbelief like their Mommy is now. It will be a bit more familiar to them and they will be better sufferers. It is sad to see your children suffer, but if they are, remember that it is making them stronger and it is preparing them for a future in a fallen world.

Romans 5:3-5  Not only that, but we rejoice in our sufferings, knowing that suffering produces endurance, and endurance produces character, and character produces hope, and hope does not put us to shame, because God’s love has been poured into our hearts through the Holy Spirit who has been given to us.

Lucy’s third heaven birthday is coming up at the beginning of February. I wonder what kind of presents we would be buying her if she had been born alive? I wish we were preparing to celebrate her third birthday like we are getting ready to celebrate Liam’s seventh birthday and Asher’s fifth birthday…with presents, cakes, parties, friends and family. What I really want is for her to just be here with me and for all the time I’ve missed with her to be made up. Obviously, these things can’t happen but there is something that YOU can get her for her birthday. I would love to see how her story has impacted you. It brings me so much joy and comfort when I realize that GOOD has come out of her death. I have a big favor to ask: If you have been impacted by Lucy’s story would you be willing to share that with me? If your baby has been helped by our experience with anti-kell antibodies, if you have been comforted in a time of mourning, if your faith has been strengthened, if you have been encouraged in your journey to build your family or if you have been impacted in some other way, could you email me at [email protected] and tell me about it? Or you can just leave your message in the comment section here. It doesn’t have to be long or well written, just a sentence or two telling how you have been encouraged. That would mean so much to me. I would love to honor Lucy by sharing your story here on her birthday. If you DON’T want your experience shared on my blog just specify it in your message. Let’s all come together and show the world that even the smallest babies and the shortest lives can have a BIG impact on the world. Thank you all ❤

Yesterday we had a combination birthday party for Liam (turning 6) Asher (turning 4) and my niece, Camille (turning 7.) At the birthday party we revealed the gender of our miracle baby. Josh’s family was visiting from South Carolina, so they got to be there too. It was so fun. Since the birthday party was lego themed I made cake pops in the form of lego heads with the gender color hidden on the inside.

Everybody bit into the cake pops at the same time and…….

We’re having a baby GIRL!

My little brother John is pretty excited about another niece.

Liam said he knew it was a girl all along 🙂 Asher is still holding out for a boy who he says will be named “Naeus.”

It was such a fun weekend, being able to celebrate our boys and our niece and our baby girl. I think everyone felt lighter with the knowledge that baby girl is doing ok for now and is not in distress. We usually don’t announce the baby’s name until birth but we are announcing our daughter’s name now because we would love for people to pray for her by name. We don’t have a middle name yet (we’re trying to decide between three that we love) but her first name is NORA ❤ It means “light” just like her big sister Lucy. Here we are right after the gender reveal. Nora is in there, I promise, she was just hiding I guess.

We are so thrilled to be having another daughter and we are constantly asking God to let us raise this one on earth. Please continue to pray for our little Nora, who has to overcome such great odds just to get here safely. My next MCA scan is on Monday and I will probably be doing the amniocentesis then too. Please pray that Nora is not anemic tomorrow and that the amnio goes smoothly. Thank you for celebrating our Nora with us!

So, we have decided to stop trying to conceive a baby naturally for right now. We have tried for 11 months which meant 9 negative pregnancy tests and 2 positives that ended with miscarriages. That is a lot of heartbreak, discouragement and hope deferred and all of it has happened right after the death of our daughter. I had negative pregnancy tests before losing Lucy and they were very difficult to handle, but getting a negative after losing a baby is far more devastating. With Liam we got pregnant the very first month we tried, Asher took five months of trying and Lucy only took two months. Throughout this past year we have been praying that God would show us clearly how He wants us to proceed with growing our family. We think He has shown us clearly that our next baby will be our adopted one. Trying to conceive is also expensive for us with the supplements, ovulation predictor kits, pregnancy tests, blood work, etc. We feel like all of our money needs to go towards our adoption right now, especially if people are donating their hard earned money to our adoption account. Also, I will probably try to induce lactation and breastfeed my adopted baby, which means going on birth control pills as part of the protocol. Another reason we are putting the TTC on hold is because every month that we try for a baby, we are opening ourselves up to a 50% chance of having another stillbirth. That takes a tremendous amount of courage and emotional energy. We are emotionally exhausted from it, so I think it is a good time to stop and wait.

Even though it goes against every fiber of my being to not try for a baby, it is very freeing to know that we WILL be meeting our baby girl next and we won’t be experiencing a stillbirth.  We are almost finished with our home study and were told to start working on our profile book to show the birth moms. This means that there is a (very small) chance that we will be getting our baby in the next few months. Josh and I realized the other day that we don’t have any names picked out yet! With a pregnancy you pretty much know how long you have to pick the name, but with adoption you have no idea. We could get a call soon telling us that a baby has just been born and the birth mom has picked us, or it could take over a year. The last couple of days have been full of hope for us as we look up baby girl names and ask the boys what they think about them. We finally told them about the adoption and that they will be getting a baby sister, but we don’t know how long it will take. We told them all about the baby’s “Belly Mama” and it all seems very normal to them because everything sounds normal when you are 3 and 5! Liam even wrote a sweet (kind of awkward) letter to Belly Mama the other night:

Please, I know you are having a baby.

Dear Belly Mama, thank you.

Love, Liam

Liam suggests on a regular basis that we name the baby Lucy, and that is always a stab in the heart. It is hard to explain that we already used that name for his baby sister who isn’t here. He wants his baby sister Lucy so much, and we do too. But lately I have noticed that when the boys talk about their baby sister they are referring to our baby girl who is coming next, and that is hopeful. Liam’s name choices for his new baby sister are, “Frontsteve, Flashy, Lil-Star and Rosie.” All good reminders why five year olds should not be allowed to name other humans. Occasionally he asks, “But can we PLEASE just nickname her Lucy?” And I have to tell him no. Today Asher told me that he really wanted to go to his baby sister’s house. They are ready to meet her.

Since Lucy died, it has been extremely painful to go to Target for some reason. I think it’s because I usually buy most of my baby stuff/maternity clothes there. I always used to walk through the baby girl clothing section and touch the pretty dresses and dream about having my own girl one day. I also see at least one or two pregnant women EVERY time I go there. While I was pregnant with Lucy, I went to Target one day, still unsure if I was going to be able to keep the sweet baby I was carrying inside me. I decided to celebrate my girl whether I got to keep her or not. I bought the cutest baby skinny jeans and an orange shirt with white flowers on it. I was so excited about seeing my baby Lucy in that outfit. I never saw her in it. Target brings up lots of heartache for me. But today, I went to Target with my boys for a few things and found myself walking through the baby girl section again, with HOPE and JOY, trusting that my new baby girl is coming. The boys were so excited about the baby girl stuff and kept asking, “Can we buy THIS for our baby sister?” It made me so happy. I splurged and got her some cute little shoes and hair clips and Asher insisted that he pick out a “pappy” for his baby sister. He only just got rid of his night time pacifier, so he was excited about getting one for her. As I left the store I realized I got through the whole shopping trip without feeling depressed or anxious. I felt hopeful and excited about the future, and the boys did too. What a delicious feeling.

I remember the day I gave my daughter back to God. It wasn’t the day she died. It was February 2nd, the day we learned that she was anemic and needed a blood transfusion. I knew how sick she was, she didn’t kick anymore. I had a dark, nagging feeling that Lucy would die. I wanted to hold on to her for dear life. I wanted to protect her and I so desperately wanted to keep her. I think the natural instinct a mother has to protect her child is the strongest in human nature. I couldn’t imagine my baby dying inside of me, my womb becoming a coffin. I begged God to let me keep her. I screamed, “I want her. I want her. I want her.” Over and over again I asked God to save her, to let me be her Mommy here on earth. I threw a tantrum, down on my knees crying out to God to save her. It would be so easy for him to save her. He listened until I exhausted myself and then he said, “Let me have her. I will take care of her.” Could I give her up to him if that was what he wanted? Why would he let her die? I didn’t understand, but I trusted him. I thought of God letting go of his only son to die a violent death. I thought of Abraham with his miracle baby that he waited 100 years for. He was willing to give him back to God, even willing to slaughter him himself. If they could do it, I could do it. What was the purpose of my life, after all? It is to glorify God and enjoy him. The purpose of my life  is not to keep my daughter or to get what I want. I released my death grip that I (thought I) had on my daughter. I told him “Ok, you can have her. If it means that you will be glorified through her death, then you can have her.” I felt peace because it wasn’t in my hands, it was in his. I knew he would take her, and he did a week later.

Even though I am a blubbering mess here on Earth, I know Lucy is ok in heaven. She is well cared for, she is loved by her creator. I don’t worry about her. Soon after I returned home from the hospital I was so heartbroken for my girl, missing her and worrying about her. I was sobbing for my baby, praying for God to help me. I felt like God said, “I have her with me now. She’s right here. She’s fine. I’ve got her.” It was so good to realize that I can mourn my loss and feel empty for myself, but not for Lucy. She is happy and safe and my protective mother-heart can rest easy.

When my Mom was in the waiting room and I was in labor, waiting for Lucy to come, she asked God to show her a verse for Lucy. He showed her this:

Isaiah 66:12,13     And you shall be nursed, you shall be carried on the hip and bounced on the knees. As one whom his mother comforts, so I will comfort you.

Today we had our first MCA scan to find out whether the baby is anemic (being attacked by my antibodies) or not. The news isn’t good, but it’s not terrible. The scan gives the baby a score to show how high the anemia is. A score of 1, or anything close to a 1 is normal. When it gets to 1.5 the baby is anemic and needs a blood transfusion in the womb. Today the baby’s scores ranged from 1.3 to 1.48 which makes us incredibly nervous. This shows us that the baby is probably anemic, but not so anemic that (s)he needs a blood transfusion yet. This also shows us that the baby is probably kell positive, which means (s)he has Daddy’s blood type and is being attacked by my antibodies. This baby is going to have to fight to live and will probably need a lot of intrauterine blood transfusions and will probably be delivered prematurely. Our goal is to get the baby to viability so that delivery is an option if (s)he gets too anemic. The danger is in the environment, not the baby (the baby is perfectly healthy as far as we know) so we want to get the baby to a point where it’s safe to remove him/her from the dangerous environment (my body.)

So, what is our plan of action now that we know baby could be anemic? I wanted the doctor to double my weekly dose of IVIG, but he was reluctant since it isn’t the normal protocol. I tried my hardest to convince him, but he wouldn’t budge. The only down side of an extra dose of IVIG is the cost, but we don’t mind that if it gives our baby a better chance at life. A double dose can’t hurt the baby, it can only help, so I’m frustrated that they won’t just try. The doctor wants to wait and rescan the baby this Friday to see if the anemia gets worse. If it is any higher than it was today, I will be traveling to Houston to have a different doctor treat me and try to save the baby. If the anemia level is the same or lower, we will just continue weekly IVIG and watch the baby closely. There is still a very small chance that the baby isn’t anemic and it was just a high reading on the scan because it’s still so early.

Please, please pray for our baby. The scan on Friday is so important and will tell us a lot more about how the baby is doing. Pray that the baby’s anemia level goes down and not up. We appreciate all of your prayers for this ultrasound today. Even though it didn’t go as well as we were hoping, we are thankful that the baby looks ok for now and doesn’t need a transfusion yet. Lucy’s anemia level on her first MCA scan at 17 weeks was 2.5 and it was pretty much too late to help her. We are glad that we are catching this baby’s anemia early so we can do more to fight it. Also, I know this is all kind of confusing so if you have any questions about it, feel free to ask in the comments. Thank you, again, for all of your prayers and support.

Survive is the key term here. When you lose your baby it takes everything you have just to survive. This post is about what has helped me survive the loss of my daughter, Lucy, at 19 weeks pregnant and the loss of our next two babies in early miscarriages. One day, I would love to be able to write a post about finding hope and joy after pregnancy loss, but for now it is about survival. No matter how far along you are, when you lose your baby you lose a piece of yourself. It is a searing pain that changes you forever. If you have suffered a pregnancy loss I am so very sorry. Maybe you can find a bit of strength and encouragement from my experience. If you haven’t lost a baby you probably know someone who has. Also, not to scare you, but there is a chance that you may lose a baby in the future. Many, many pregnancies end in miscarriage or stillbirth. I never EVER imagined I would lose my baby, let alone at almost 20 weeks pregnant. The women in my family have healthy pregnancies and we give birth to big, chunky babies. I had two healthy, normal pregnancies before Lucy. I was completely blindsided when I found out there was a complication with Lucy. I was shocked when I lost my next two pregnancies as well. I never thought it would happen to me, but here I am with three lost babies in eight months. This could help you in the future.

Here are some of the practical things that have helped me survive my stillbirth and my early miscarriages:

• Remember that you play a part in your own healing: For a while after Lucy died I kept waiting and waiting for God to heal me, but honestly I just ached. One day my counselor told me that I didn’t just have to wait around doing nothing. God is the only one who can ultimately heal me, but there are things I can do to help the process along. A lot of healing took place when I realized some of the responsibility was mine and there are practical things (mentioned below) I can be doing to help myself heal.

• Read something comforting right before bed: Before I go to sleep I read a hopeful/encouraging verse from the Bible. The nights seem the worst and what you read before bed tends to stay in your head throughout the night. I feel safe when I do this.

• Get enough sleep: I had my doctor prescribe some Ambien to help me sleep occasionally. I don’t take it every night, but I know if I’m having a horrible day full of anxiety that I can at least take Ambien that night and get a good night of sleep (which helps a lot emotionally.) Sometimes I also use Benadryl, melatonin or a nice big glass of wine to help me sleep.

• Find some reminders of your baby: I think it’s good to have special reminders of your baby (even if it was an early miscarriage.) I have the only dress and hat that Lucy ever wore, her blanket and tiny heart shaped pillow, her footprints, her measurements, pictures of her, ultrasound pictures, pregnancy tests, and cards from so many people. I put them in a little box and when I feel like it, I take everything out and cry for her. One day I can show her big brothers these things to remind them of their baby sister. You can find something, even if you have had a very early loss (your pregnancy test, ultrasound picture, something that symbolizes your baby, etc.)

• Name your baby: This one is kind of a personal decision, but it’s something that has helped me, so I’m including it. Of course, we already had a name picked out for Lucy when she died, but it also helped me to name our babies that we lost in early miscarriages. They are our children, after all, and we will meet them in heaven one day and I would like to know what to call them. We named our first baby that we lost in an early miscarriage Jude and it felt good to honor our baby and acknowledge his or her life. We are still trying to think of a good name for the baby that we just lost in October.

• Meet your baby/Take pictures of your baby: This one is for the women who haven’t had a loss yet. If you have a late miscarriage or stillbirth, I think it is very important to take pictures of your baby. For me it was wonderful to see Lucy in person. I was scared at first, but I had read about other women regretting not seeing their baby when they had the chance. This will be your only chance to see your baby in person on earth. I was so glad I got to meet my baby Lucy in person. If you think it’s too traumatic for you, have someone else take pictures and put them in a safe place. If you ever decide you want to see your baby, you can.

• Find a good verse, and keep it with you: I often find a verse that means a lot to me or helps me a lot and write it on a notecard. I keep it in my back pocket throughout the day. When I feel hopeless, I force myself to read it and a lot of times it lifts me out of the pit. I also put the verses up all around my house where I’ll see them throughout the day.

• Try to stay off Facebook or limit time there: Facebook is crawling with pregnant bellies and newborn babies (including my own) and Facebook isn’t necessary for life, so why torture yourself? You could also just block the people who are triggers for you from your newsfeed.

• Stay away from triggers: A trigger is anything that sends you into that deep, dark place of despair. Some of my triggers are: pregnant women, babies Lucy’s age, little girls, Target (not sure why), etc. I try to stay away from these triggers as much as possible. This is especially helpful right at first when the wound is so fresh.

• Find a good counselor: Right after Lucy died I started seeing a counselor every week and now I just see her when I feel like I need some extra support. She has helped me deal with PTSD and it has been very good for me. She has encouraged me so much. There are a lot of support groups that are also helpful (I haven’t joined one because I don’t have time right now, but might in the future)

• Take anti-depressant medication if you need it: A lot of women are hesitant to take anti-depressants for some reason. I think medication can be extremely helpful and important after a loss. A lot of women don’t need medication, but some do. I have a history of anxiety and depression/postpartum depression, so after I lost Lucy I started taking Wellbutrin just to be safe. It has helped me avoid feeling suicidal and has kept my head above water. My doctor doubled the dose right before Lucy’s due date (and our early miscarriage) and it helped so much. It’s good to remember that this terrible place you are in is temporary, and the need for medication probably will be too.

• Find good books on grieving/pregnancy loss: I read some good books on how to deal with grief. My favorite, by far, is “A Grace Disguised” by Jerry Sittser. He lost his mother, his wife, and his daughter all in one day. It’s an amazing book that gave me a lot of hope. I also loved, “I Will Carry You” by Angie Smith.

• Try “Breath Prayers”: Ok, this one might sound silly, but it has helped me in my worst moments when I truly wanted to die because the pain was so suffocating. A lot of times I had to focus all of my energy on literally getting through the moment. These breath prayers help. You pick a piece of scripture or an encouraging thought like “My baby is safe.” As you take a slow, deep breath in you say the first part in your mind “My baby…” Then you slowly let your breath out and finish the thought “…is safe” as you release your breath and relax your body. Repeat it until you feel more in control of your emotions. It’s a bit like meditation and it calms you down and focuses your mind on the truth. Some other ones that I use: “God will…heal me.” “God is…in control.” “I have her…for eternity.”God will…sustain me.” Also, I use some of the personal promises that I feel like God has told me: “I will fill…your heart with joy, I will fill…your belly with a baby.”  “I will….redeem it.” And then I finish with: “He who promised…is faithful.”

• Know how to answer questions: Try to have a standard reply for certain questions because the grief is so heavy it puts your brain in a fog. When people asked me, “How are you?” I didn’t know what to say because the truth was, I wanted to die, I felt like I was already dead inside, but how do you put that into words? I did NOT want to say, “I’m ok,” because I absolutely was not. I read about another Mom who lost her baby who says, “I’m barely surviving” or “I’m surviving.” I like that response. Another common question that becomes tricky is, “How many kids do you have?” or “Do you have any children?”

• Find something to look forward to: I try to find SOMETHING to look forward to and I write it down on the calendar. At first, this was very hard. The only thing I looked forward to was my pre-conception appointment (where the doctors would discuss Lucy’s autopsy results with us and make a plan for future pregnancies.) I wrote it in big letters on the calendar. Some other things I have found to look forward to: trying to conceive, trips out of town, renting movies, exercising by myself without my children, doing fun things with my kids (cooking with them, treasure hunts, museums, picnics…), date nights with Josh.

• Find some creative outlet for your grief: Some people paint or knit little hats for babies in the NICU. I write on this blog and it has helped me so much more than I ever imagined. Besides God, this blog has provided the most healing for me. It is an outlet for my thoughts and it is so amazing when I hear that it has encouraged another person in some way. By the way, thank you, so much to all of you who read my blog. You encourage me more than you know. Every comment is read and cherished and I am so thankful for you all.

• Listen to good music: For some reason I have a hard time finding praise and worship music that I like, but others who have suffered loss have told me it helped them so much. I finally found these old hymns that have been redone and I love them. I listen to them whenever I can. Even having it play in the background is helpful. It keeps my mind on God and off of my pain.

• Be ok with saying no: Don’t ever force yourself to do something you’re not ready for (baby showers, family get togethers, church, etc.) just because other people expect you to. One of the things I regret the most is making myself do things I wasn’t ready for. Give yourself permission to say no.

• Get lots of exercise. Get lots of sunshine.

• Keep taking your prenatal: I kept taking my prenatal vitamin because a lot of days I just couldn’t eat and that was pretty much the only nutrition I got for the day. Also, your body is trying to replace lots of lost nutrients and you need to be physically healthy to start healing emotionally. I have heard some women say that the prenatal is a trigger for them, so they take a women’s multivitamin instead.

• Find a safe person: It’s good to try to find at least one person that you feel safe with and spend time with that person so that you don’t lose all contact with other humans. My friend Shelly is great and she never hurts me with her words. Also, she isn’t pregnant or trying to get pregnant and she has two boys (ages 6 and 9) so she’s not a trigger for me. I know I’m safe with her, so I try to spend time with her every week.

• Know when to find help: Since losing Lucy, I have wondered many times how I could go on living (almost every day during those first months.) I think about heaven a lot, because my babies live there. I think it’s normal to want to be with your baby and to want to escape the pain. There is a line or a boundary that you need to be aware of, though, and when you realize you are crossing the line you need to tell someone and get help. If you ever start making plans about how you will end your life, you are crossing the line. Actually, if you ever think killing yourself is even a real option, you are crossing the boundary. I have begged God to let me be free from my pain, but I always respect the fact that it is HIS decision when I get to go home. Be vigilant about what you are thinking and if you feel yourself getting close to the line, call your doctor, tell a friend or family member and don’t allow yourself to be left alone (especially with your children.) I promise, the way you are feeling now is not how you will always feel. There truly is peace and even joy in your future.

Besides the practical things you can do to get through your loss, there are also some helpful thoughts that can strengthen you along your grief journey. Here are the thoughts that have helped me the most:

• Accept the fact that you are a different person: It took me a while to realize that my life would never go back to “normal.” I kept waiting for it to get better (which it does) and go back to the way it was before (which it never does.) There was healing and a little bit of closure when I accepted the fact that I am now a different person and this is the beginning of my new life. It doesn’t help at all to compare my new life with my old life.

• Expect people to say stupid things: Right after Lucy died my Mom gave me some advice that her brother had given her. He lost his first wife years ago, so he is familiar with grief. He said to expect people to say hurtful, sometimes ridiculous things and to not let the anger and bitterness take over. Most of those people don’t know what they are saying, but it’s easy to let the hurt run deep and stay there. Expect stupid, hurtful comments and try to let them go. My friend Shelly always says, “They’re just a bunch of nincompoops.” That always lightens the mood and helps me let the hurt go. They are just nincompoops who don’t know what they are saying.

• Don’t believe the lies: It is so easy to believe lies after you lose a baby. I think the most tragic thing that can ever happen to a person is to lose a child. That means that you are at your absolute weakest right after losing your baby. Realize that some of the things you are believing are lies from Satan, who loves to attack people when they are weak. I found Bible verses that counteract the many different lies that Satan has been telling me since losing Lucy (You are a bad mom, God wanted to hurt you, etc.) I have to read these truths again and again and they encourage me every time. You can find these lies and their corresponding truths here. 

• It’s not your job to make them understand: Most people will not understand what you are going through unless they have lost a baby themselves. I was so frustrated at first because no one seemed to get it, no matter how well I explained it. My counselor finally told me that it’s not my job to make them understand, it is impossible. I let go of the burden and have accepted the fact that they won’t get it, and that’s fine. I didn’t understand either before I lost Lucy.

• Healing will take a long time: Right after Lucy died, one of my doctors told me that the healing process is very long after a stillbirth. He said studies have shown that it takes a year, at the very least, for a woman to emotionally heal from a stillbirth. Most people will expect you to be better after a few weeks or months. You are not weird if you are still grieving months or years after losing your baby. I thought my doctor was exaggerating a bit when he told me it would take at least a year to heal. I expected it to happen sooner. Now I know that for me, it will probably be years before I feel healed from the loss of my daughter. Don’t give your grief a timeline.

I hope some of these things will be helpful to someone who has been through a miscarriage or stillbirth. If you are a baby loss Mom, I would love to hear the things that have helped you survive your miscarriage or stillbirth.