Tuesday, January 20, 2015


Ten and a half years ago I found out I was pregnant.

And I sat on the floor and cried.

That made the guilt for what was to come that much worse.

You see, we had a baby. Barely six months old. My husband had lost his job the week before he was born. I probably had post-partum depression, too. I was not ready for another baby. Especially since my current baby would only be thirteen months old when this one arrived. I'm not sure what made me take the test, but there it was sitting on the counter. And I was overwhelmed.

We spent the week thinking and praying. Honestly...coming to terms with the next change in our life. And that's when the spotting started. I did what I was supposed to do. I called my doctor. I laid down. I rested.

But all it took was one trip to the bathroom.

And I sat on the floor and cried.

The rest of the week is a blur of pain, tears, trips to the hospital and clinic and rationalizing. Trying to understand why God would give us a baby, only to take it away again.

It didn't take long to get pregnant again, and again, and again, and again. We ended up with five kids. And not a lot of time to think about the one we lost. I'm not even sure how many people we've talked to about that baby. But last week I did. I shared my story with some other moms. I did think about that baby. The one that I never got to hold. And I let the pain of it touch me, for the first time since it happened.

And I have a song for that.

God created. He had no intentions for anyone to die. That's why it hurts us so much when someone does. Why it just about kills us when it's a child, even one yet unborn. It's ok to feel it.


Anonymous said...

Thanks for bring brave and sharing this! I think many eyes will be opened when we all start being brave and telling our stories. :)

Terry not God said...

I'm glad you took the opportunity to honor your loss by telling the story. It's is a part of your story, and it's an awesome story.