Honoring Pregnancy and Infant Loss Remembrance Day

{Preface...I know that every woman handles the loss of her baby differently and that is absolutely OK. This is just my story.}

I remember right after it happened, I had the thought of, "Now I'm 'that woman' who had a miscarriage." 

Sometimes it's still hard for me to believe. I had a miscarriage. 

And I did. Back in May, 2008, over Mother's Day weekend. I still remember it so vividly, the sights and sounds and the gut-wrenching pain. And my heart. Ooooh, my heart.

I still, literally, right this second, tear up at the thought of it--but probably not for the reason you would think.

Here's the thing. My miscarriage experience itself was relatively "easy." I was only six weeks along, just long enough to fill out my pregnancy journal and start dreaming about whether I'd have the baby in 2008 or 2009 (my due date would have been December 28th and my first son was born six days "late") and whether our first son would get a brother or a sister.

The bleeding started on a Friday and I spent the weekend (Mother's Day weekend) feeling like I had the flu. When my body actually purged the tissue on Tuesday, I felt relieved. I will never forget that day. It was May 13th, 2008. I never went to see a doctor and I even attended church and celebrated Mother's Day with my son (pictured below) and my mom. I was incredibly fortunate.

I say that the miscarriage was like getting sucker punched at a Sunday School picnic. 

It was a huge turning point in my life and served as a necessary wake-up call that allowed me to see life in a different way. It also allowed me to see God's grace in a different way, and I am forever changed.

I get emotional because I don't even recognize myself anymore. The miscarriage ushered a season of fear (and eventually full-blown anxiety) into my life that took me many months (years, really) to get past. In fact, I still fight anxiety almost every day. 

That season afforded me the opportunity to ask some hard questions and make some hard choices--ones that many people don't confront until they hit rock bottom. My rock bottom, by the grace of God, was mercifully minor.

I was able to make many positive changes over a long period of time, and grow closer to God in the process. I am so grateful that God gently pruned me the way He did and the growth since then has been astounding. 

By the way, the story had a happy ending. On May 13, 2009 (a year to the day later), our redemption baby came home from the hospital. God didn't have to do that. He is very, very good to me.

My heart aches for the mothers who suffer the loss of a child, in ANY form. Every story is unique and every baby deserves to be celebrated and remembered. 

So much of my life is different because of that miscarriage. It is actually better because of it.

I write on this blog to encourage other women to try to see God's grace in their experience, too. The healing process is long and it is hard. Allowing God in to minister to you and encourage you makes all the difference.

Read my miscarriage redemption story on my These Heels Are Made For Walking blog.

Please contact me if I can help you on your journey in any way.
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The place between fear and joy

One moment I think about the possibility of bringing another human into the world and my heart soars. The next moment, I think about pregnancy aches and pains, giving birth, caring for a newborn, another 18 years added to the clock, the world we're leaving to our grandchildren and the rising costs of raising a child and I break out into a cold sweat.

Every time I start a new cycle, there is a tiny little shred of "Phew, dodged a bullet on that one" yet every time I get to the end of a cycle, all I can hope for is that second line on a pregnancy test.

I had a hard time toward the end of my last pregnancy, including loss of appetite, anxiety, losing weight and spending entire days at a time on the couch while my son watched movies all day.

I give every new baby two years with me--nursing on demand, no overnight trips and even sleeping in the same bed. Two years of baby as #1. I love it that way, but it is a non-negotiable, which means that husband, hobbies and 'work' come after Baby.

Having another baby is undeniably scary. And once you GET pregnant, there's no turning back!

But, oooohhhh....babies. Children!!! My offspring!! The JOY!!! Being able to be pregnant, give birth and raise another child is an honor and a privilege that I do not take lightly.

You get to birth a brand new human into the world. You get a baby to hold and nurse and smell and cuddle. You get to experience every milestone and enjoy other people enjoying your child. There are celebrations, lessons learned, teaching, playing, family events, cousins, trips, holidays....the JOY! You get to watch siblings interact and personalities emerge and dream about how your munchkin will change the world someday. It is truly a miracle.

Fear, shmear. Give me JOY!

When to tell your pregnancy news

Those two lines change EVERYthing. If you've seen several days worth of negative tests (or months or even years of negative tests!) prior to the positive test, you know that you can hardly believe your eyes. You wonder if you're seeing things. You probably even take another test (or two or six) just for confirmation.

So you're pregnant. Whether you "got it" on the first try or you've been trying for years, one of the first questions you have to grapple with is, "Who do I tell and when??"

I can't tell you what to do, it's part of the story God is knitting together in your life. I can tell you is what I did and why.

I've been pregnant three times.

Pregnancy #1: In March 2005, I got pregnant on about the third try and knew by 13 days post-ovulation. We told everyone as soon as we got a positive pregnancy test. I assumed everything would be perfectly fine with the pregnancy and it was. I went to almost 41 weeks and delivered a perfectly healthy baby boy.



Pregnancy #2: In the spring of 2008, we started "trying" for a second baby and got pregnant on the first try. We told everyone right away and assumed that everything would be perfectly fine but it wasn't. Just shy of seven weeks along, on Mother's Day weekend, I suffered a miscarriage. I had been due on December 28th and had already filled in my pregnancy journal. It was a crushing blow and was definitely one of the defining moments of my life thus far.

Pregnancy #3: In August of 2008, we started "trying" again and again, got pregnant on the first try. We found out on September 2 and told everyone as soon as we knew, having great faith that everything would be fine and it was. I again went to almost 41 weeks and delivered another perfectly healthy baby boy.



Two beautiful sons, perfect in every way, born three-and-a-half years apart, and right between the two, I had a miscarriage.

Do I wish I hadn't told anyone that time around? I think back and realize that

if I had said, "I don't want to tell anyone this early, 'just in case,'" I would have been saying that I didn't trust God with the outcome of my pregnancy.**

It would have also meant that no one would have known what I was going through. After it happened, other women who had experienced miscarriages came out of the woodwork and we got a chance to talk about it and encourage each other. Some women actually needed to tell ME their story. I have spoken openly about what I went through and it has given me the opportunity to minister to many, many women.

Now, almost three years later, I'm launching a new ministry (starting with a God Knits event at my church, details HERE) to help women who have experienced "bumps in the road on the journey of motherhood" and I honestly don't think I'd be at this point if I'd have kept my pregnancy and the subsequent miscarriage a secret. Talking about it from the very beginning actually helped me work through it faster.

Yes, it was hard to tell people we lost the baby. Mother's Day Sunday, a friend that hadn't heard approached me and said, "It's so sweet to be pregnant on Mother's Day!" She felt worse about it than I did. A month later, my sister-in-law's ex-boyfriend saw me at church and patted my belly and said, "You're glowing!" I wanted to smack him. I put that shirt way in the back of my closet when I got home.

One thing the miscarriage experience taught me, in fact, was how very delicate and miraculous those early days of pregnancy are, especially the two weeks or so before we know we're pregnant. I had taken it for granted with my first pregnancy. So after my cycles returned to normal following the miscarriage, we actually asked people to pray for us before we started "trying" again. Yes, it's a little awkward to say to people, "Pray that we make a healthy baby when we have sex this month, ok?" But why NOT have people praying for you and the baby, when it matters most? We call Ethan our "Redemption Baby" and I know those prayers made a difference.

**Now back to the trust in God's plan issue. "You assumed everything would be ok every time but one time, it wasn't ok." Yes, there were some dark moments as my story unfolded but my trust is in a God that cares and is ever-faithful.

When I depend on an all-knowing, all-seeing SOVEREIGN God who works ALL things together for good, nothing is ever amiss.

It took me a while to see it that way, of course, which is just a part of my journey. But if I'd have expressed by lack of trust by saying, "I don't want to get my hopes up, just in case something happens," or dwelled on all the "what ifs," it wouldn't have changed anything one way or the other. In fact, believing that God would ultimately lead me to something wonderful just meant I was on the look-out, ready and willing, for a miracle.

When I miscarried, God didn't disappoint me, He just took me on a detour. A detour that eventually led to this:



Ethan Ryan (his name means Strong King) came home from the hospital a year to the day after I miscarried. As says in Psalm 30:13, "And You turned my mourning into dancing...and clothed me in gladness!" He came home one year to the day that the miscarriage occured. That is redemption.

I can't question that.

And if and when we try for another baby, you can bet I'll have people praying for our baby before he or she is conceived and I'll be spreading my pregnancy news immediately. If anything, my faith in God and His plan for my life has only gotten stronger, which means that I will continue to trust that He will ultimately give me the miracle I need.