If you’ve been following my blog for awhile now, you’ll know that I have had a goal to write and publish my own memoir. This idea first played out like this:
After my first miscarriage I started my blog, and after my second miscarriage I wanted to write a book. That was in 2019. At the end of 2020, I finished my first draft. In April of 2021, I got pregnant with our rainbow baby. Towards the end of 2022, I started to re-examine my first draft, and realized it wasn’t the full story. I created the book with intention of covering grief and loss, while also covering hope and mercy. I decided to add a few more chapters to my book that wasn’t just about the storm so to speak, but also about the rainbow after the storm.
I’m excited to say I have finally finished my first draft… again. I’m not quite ready for it to go to a publisher and/or self publish just yet, but I am one step closer to following my dreams and fulfilling my calling. 💕
It’s 2023! Happy New Year friends! I can’t believe my baby is almost a year old! Where did the time go??? Any who… this year I’ve got plans, like I always do. I always like to reach big for the goals I set for myself each year. However, I also want to bring into the new year something I learned from 2022, and that is flexibility. Last year, I was challenged to be flexible with my time, money, plans, parenting and expectations. This year I’m going to try and continue to keep that flexibility at times, as hard as it is for me not to be a control freak.
This year I am setting 10 goals for myself. These are 10 goals that I hope to be intentional as well as manageable. Without further or do, here are my goals for 2023!
My Goals for 2023
1. Buy a House
This is the big one. This is the one I want to come true the most! We have been saving up and looking for the perfect starter home for our little family. My hope is to find our home and move in before summer, if not by the end of the year.
2. Go on a Family Trip
I would like to go on at least one family trip this year, even if it’s just a day trip. A few ideas I have include the zoo, northern Michigan, Great a Wolf Lodge, the apple orchard, the dairy farm or Mackinac.
3. Publish one of my Books
I said this in my last post. This goal will be on this list until I complete it!
4. Decorate my New Home
This one goes along with my first goal. But it’s honestly what I am most excited about with getting a new home. We get to decorate and make it our own!
5. Get my Eyes Checked
Now, at first glance you guys might think this is a dumb goal. But give me a moment to explain. The last time I had my eyes checked was in 2018. It’s been 5 years. I need my eyes checked and I really need new glasses. I’m just terrified of going to the eye doctor, for reasons I will share in a future post. So this is a big deal for me, but I gotta do it.
6. Start Our Homesteading Lifestyle
I’ve mentioned in previous posts how I am very interested in homesteading and would eventually like to have my own garden/green house, chicken coup with laying egg hens, and a goat or two for goat milk. I realize I can’t begin this lifestyle until we are moved into our new home. However, I would like to at least begin the process of homestead living by continuing to research and maybe even start buying supplies.
7. Host a Party or Family Gathering
As we wrap up the holidays, I have thought about how much I would one day love to host a family gathering and or party at my own home in the coming year. I have a few ideas including a house warming party, Easter Dinner, Mother’s Day, Christmas or New Year’s Eve. Depending on when we move and get settled in will depend on when all this happens, but I simply can’t wait!
8. Write 515 Blog Posts
I know I didn’t reach my goal of 500 blog posts in 2022, but I hope to reach this one in 2023. With my little one being a little more mobile and independent, I’m hopeful this will allow me to dive back into my hobby of writing.
9. Implement Fun and Structured Activities with my Son
As Matthew quickly emerges from baby to toddler, I would like to start doing more intentional, structural activities throughout the year. I have a few ideas like sensory bins/bags, art projects and outside activities.
10. Start Developing Our Homeschool Curriculum
As many of you know, I have degrees in Early Childhood Education and Child and Family Development. This is my field. I have always wanted to develop my own toddler/preschool curriculum.
My Word of the Year…
This year I have decided to include a word of the year. Something I want to ponder, remember and reflect on as each month passes this year. I asked my husband to think of a word for me. I said to think of the first word that comes to his head, and he said Resilience. I instantly thought it was perfect! No matter what this year brings, I’m going to have faith, trust in Jesus and come out with resilience.
Growing up, I had always been familiar with the concept of Heaven and faith. Having an older brother who died as an infant, is what first introduced me to faith. Later in life, of course I had grandparents, and acquaintances who passed on as well, and though it was sad, these moments built my faith. However, my faith was shaken, challenged, and changed after I miscarried my babies.
When I was little, my mom used to find pennies all the time… in fact she still does. I on the other hand don’t find them much at all. When ever my mom would find them on the ground, she would tell me “It’s a penny from Heaven” or “Matthew is watching over me.” I thought it was so cool how my mom would find pennies so often.
Recently, my husband and I went to the store. I was having quite a rough day as I didn’t feel good, I was stressed from work, and just kinda blah. When we got out of the car I remembered praying for things just to get better and for me to feel better. When I opened the car and stepped on the asphalt, I heard a cling. I thought I was hearing things so I grabbed my purse and shut the door. I heard the cling again. I looked down and didn’t see anything. Charles asked me a question and walked around the car. As I started to walk away from the car, I heard a cling again and looked down. I found a penny.
For the rest of our trip in the store, I held the penny in my hand. It was a penny from Heaven. Just a little token from above that put a smile on my face, when I was having a not so good day. I was also reminded of my babies. I was reminded how even though they aren’t physically with me, they are always in fact with me in spirit.
Two years ago, I was an entirely different person. I was a newly college graduated, preschool teaching, fur mama, and wife. I struggled with grief on a daily and finding my purpose in the midst of the uncertainty that lie ahead. I aspired to be great. I aspired to do many things, but the one thing I wanted and dreamed more than anything was to be a mom.
Today I am a stay at home mom, blogger and aspiring writer. In many ways I’ve made it and in other ways, I’m still working on it one day at a time.
I remember the day I created this vision board, two years ago. I went to the dollar store and bought some poster board. The next day I got up early on a sunny Saturday morning, pulled out my scrapbooking stuff and went to work. I created a vision. I displayed through art the desires of my heart to be a mother. I had no idea how it would play out, but I knew with even the tiniest bit of faith, God would see me, God would hear me and He would grant me the desires of my heart as long as it was according to His will.
As hard as the waiting season was, I’m so glad I never lost faith. 💛
In January of 2019, my life took a turn and headed down a path that I didn’t see coming. Many of you know this story as it has been the foundation of my blog. I got pregnant for the first time. In February I suffered a loss that would not only be a defining moment in my life, but would also change the way I live my life.
After my first pregnancy loss, I spent a lot of time at home. As I grieved and healed from the loss of our baby, I spent a lot of time in my thoughts. I spent hours on social media such as Instagram and Facebook, watching other influencers on stories and in their posts.
In the summer of 2019, I put a pause on therapy. My therapist didn’t work through the summer, so took that time to really dive into what I felt my purpose and new found calling was… advocacy. I was passionate and felt led to advocate for women like me who had suffered a pregnancy loss.
In September I was ready, and I was motivated to share my story to anyone who would listen, and help those who had experienced loss. My what would have been due date was approaching, so in the midst of being passionate, I was also grieving. Then I got pregnant for a second time.
This was it. This was my rainbow baby. I was nervous but almost over confident I wasn’t going to have another loss. Things would be different this time. I went to school, went to all my appointments. I ate healthy. Everything was going to be just fine. Then at the end of September, I had my second loss.
I was numb. I was confused. I did everything right… and I still lost another baby. I beat myself up. I again had that intense passion and a little whisper in my ear that said share your story. Write a book. That was it! I should write a memoir. My blog was doing great. Why not take it a step further and start writing. The beginning of the writing process really wasn’t difficult because I just had to take bits and pieces of blog posts and turn it into a book.
In February of 2020, on a whim I created a rough draft of a children’s book that explained miscarriage in a child-friendly way. In March of 2020, I got a new job teaching, literally right before the big pandemic. In April of 2020, I graduated college. Being a new college graduate and starting a new job, my writing took a back seat.
In May of 2020, Charles and I decided to try for a baby one more time before pursuing adoption. It was frustrating, terrifying, and very much out of our control, but we said we’d give it a year.
In June of 2020, I decided to publish the children’s book I created back in February. I was touched by its’ small success and this motivated me to continue writing my story. I occasionally fiddled with my story on weekends or holiday breaks. But it wasn’t until December of 2020 that I finished my first draft.
In April of 2021, I was feeling very discouraged. We received negative test after test. It was feeling like my opportunities of being pregnant and having a baby had come and gone. At the end of that month I missed my period, and was pregnant for the third time.
For months, I had been experiencing writer’s block when it came to my book. I told myself I should have finished and published my book before I got pregnant, but that just didn’t happen. My blog continued to do well. I created stories, reels, posted pictures of my life, home decor and was hopeful to soon be sharing our pregnancy.
In May of 2021, I started telling a few people we were pregnant after having our first ultrasound. I fought morning sickness and fatigue which was awful, but also reassuring that things were likely okay with our pregnancy.
In June, I shared with the world that I was pregnant. I was hopeful that third time was it for us, and that this would be our rainbow baby. 3 pregnancies and we were finally able to make a public announcement.
In August, we found out we were having a baby boy. I was engulfed with sleepers, nursing bras, bassinets and diapers. My manuscript continued to take a back seat. To be honest, I was slightly afraid to read it while being pregnant. I knew by reading my memoir I would be reliving the pain and grief of our previous losses, and I didn’t want to do that while caring for my so far healthy third pregnancy.
My third pregnancy was actually going perfect. Every ultrasound and appointment seemed to be right on track, until October when I got diagnosed with gestational diabetes and November when I got Covid. This led to non-stress tests 2 times a week along with my normal OB appointments. This took up much of my time on top of working 35-40 hours a week.
We had our rainbow baby in January of 2022. Everything fell into place. My husband and I both had great jobs, and we were blessed to finally have our rainbow baby. You could blame it on hormones or endorphins, but at the time I felt like I had it all and didn’t feel a need to share my story anymore.
It wasn’t until I wrote out our birth story, and it occurred to me that there was a reason I hadn’t finished my memoir yet. Maybe my story wasn’t finished with the miscarriages. Maybe my story wasn’t only about loss and grief, but faith and hope. I pondered this for awhile and realized deep down, I still indeed wanted to write and publish my memoir.
So here we are, 8ish months after I gave birth and 3.5 years since my story began. In these times of chasing around a mobile baby, I find myself with the desire of changing my focus from influencing to writing. I’ve enjoyed my time on Instagram, but it’s just not me anymore. I’m ready to focus on my writing and focus on sharing my story through print.
Through this process of fine tuning my purpose, I have wrote out a few general goals/ideas I hope to pursue in the near future:
Sign up for a Writing for Beginner’s Workshop
Scrap my first draft, start fresh but also continue the story and add my third pregnancy and birth.
Back off from my blogging IG, and focus mainly on the blog.
It’s been fun being an instagrammer, but I’m ready to come back to my first love so to speak, which is writing. ❤️
The smell of a specific perfume, or the noise of a powerful laugh; the thought of a memory that happened many years ago, yet feels like was only within a few moments. The thought of missing someone so heavily that all of time stops, and your entire body grows cold.
This is grief.
I recently had a dream that my grandparents came over to my home. They were over the moon and all smiles about my son. They snuggled with him, played with him and laughed so deeply that it shook the house. They were honored to be great grandparents. They were in love with my son.
Then I woke up.
I woke up and remembered my Grandma and Grandpa were gone. Both had been gone for a few years now. One died from Alzheimer’s and the other from cancer. I remembered they were no longer apart of this life. They never got to be great grandparents and they never got to meet their great grandson.
This is when grief returns.
There are moments, I look at my son and I just can’t believe he’s mine. He’s a perfect mix of both his father and I. I can’t help but think of his siblings, the babies we had before him that we never got to meet.
Grief hits hard.
Last year when I was pregnant for my son, my best friend was pregnant with her daughter. My best friend lost her baby before 21 weeks. It was painful. It was excruciating and it wasn’t fair.
Grief has defining moments.
My senior year of high school, a girl I knew from youth group drowned. At the time I could hardly fathom someone around my age dying. How could it be? She had so much life to live and so much love to give. Why?
Grief is apart life.
Without death there is no life. Without life there is no love. With love comes risk. We risk loving someone even though we know we could lose them. Love is more than a feeling, yet with it sometimes comes loss which can be excruciating. If we don’t love we don’t live. And if we don’t live then, what’s the point?
Grief is a reminder.
As hard as it is to grieve, it reminds us of what we had. It reminds us of the good in our lives, the relationships and the memories. By grieving we aren’t forgetting those we love, we are remembering and we are honoring those gone, usually way too soon.
This post was created in December of 2019. I had a lot of hardships in 2019 that let to a lot of grief, depression and anxiety. I decided to share this post as a way to reflect on the things I’ve overcome and the strength that Jesus gave me. ❤️
This year… I feel like Job. In the Bible, in the book of Job, it talks about a man. This man had the highest integrity in all the land. He had favor and perfection in God’s eyes (Job 1:1). One day, Satan challenged God. He wanted to know if Job, this man of God with great faith, would still have great faith if he was put to the test. So, God allowed bad things to happen to Job (Job 1:6 – 12). He was put to the test. Job lost his children, was stricken with boils, felt grief, and pain (Job 1:13 – 20). Through this season of trial and tribulation, Job didn’t lose faith… but he did ask the question of why?
I ask myself this question everyday. Why do bad things have to happen? Why do we have to suffer? Why do we have to feel pain? Job asked and argued these questions with friends and with God. He wondered and pondered that as a follower and believer of God, why did he have to struggle? Why did he have to suffer? Why did he have to lose his children? If God is such a good God, why does he let these things happen? if we are followers of God, shouldn’t we be blessed for being faithful and not have to face pain and heartache? Job goes on to argue his case with God for many chapters. Through each chapter, I feel as if I too have asked each one of these questions, trying to fathom why bad things happen to good people. One question that I couldn’t really find, that I’ve asked this past year is Where was God?
WHERE WAS GOD?
Where was God through Job’s suffering? Where was God when he lost each and everyone of his children? Where was God when I lost mine? Where was God when I anticipated my second ultrasound, only to hear the words I’m sorry, but there isn’t a heartbeat. Where was God when the grief and heartache hit me as I woke up from surgery? Where was God when I was bleeding, and feeling labor pains knowing full well I was going to endure a second loss. Where was God this past year when my car got totaled, losing my job, my husband’s health, my health and all the crap I’ve had to suffer. Where was God!?!
GOD WAS THERE
As much as I don’t want to believe it, God was there. God was there through every moment of Job’s suffering, and He was there through every moment of mine. When bad things happen, he doesn’t just vanish, even though he seems so incredibly distant. He’s their, watching, and waiting. He waits to see how we will respond to a situation. In the waiting He isn’t closed off, but rather he’s there with open loving arms. It is up to us in every rough situation to run towards Him, or run away from Him. He is a just God, and He is a good God. He is perfect in every possible way, and we are sinners and honestly don’t deserve anything good. We don’t deserve good things, but he gives them to us anyway… because He is so good.
If there is one pet peeve I have, it’s not knowing the reason. When things happen good or bad, but especially bad… I want to know the reason. I want to know the reason why my babies had to die, why my Grandma died of Alzheimer’s, why I’m vision impaired, and why my brother died before I was born. I want to know the answers to all of these questions, and have wanted to most of my life. But unfortunately, I may never know. I may never know the specific reasons why bad things happen in this life. But I do believe this. We live in a sin tainted world, and we are sinful creatures. Nothing in this world is perfect, therefore bad things are going to happen. I don’t believe God inflicts bad things on his children, but I do believe he allows them to happen. I think one reason God allows bad things to happen, is so we can appreciate the good, and we can be thankful for the blessings that we receive. I also believe it is a reminder that this world is only our temporarily home. We will not be apart of this world or live this life forever, there is a perfect world ahead if we receive the grace that God has for us.
So, to bring it all full circle. I feel like Job this year. I have had a rough year of two miscarriages, a surgery, grief, losing a job, anxiety, depression, panic attacks, hypothyroidism, totaled car, and on and on and on. It has been one thing after another. 2019 has been the worst year of my life. With that being said… I know greater is coming. I have to believe that things are going to look up from here. Otherwise, I would just be giving up. This year has been hell, but has made me stronger. God allowed a lot of trials to happen this year, but I know he never stopped loving me. At the end of Job, God gave Job abundant blessings… not because he particularly deserved them, but because God loved him. Therefore, as hard as it has been, and as much as I want to give up… I won’t. Satan won’t take me out of the game that easily. I have faith 2020 is going to be great. I won’t lose faith.
With the news of Roe v. Wade being overturned by the Supreme Court on Friday, Facebook, Instagram and the mainstream media have been filled with both pro choice and pro life opinions on the matter. I have found myself reading and scrolling through social media as we all see the drama that unfolds across the country.
Now, I’m not usually one to write and or speak on political matters, but today I’m going to. I’m going to because this issue really shouldn’t be political but has certainly become political. In many ways I fear that I will lose friends on this matter, but in other ways I don’t care. We live in a free country and if they have the right to speak their mind then so do I.
I am a born again Christian. I am pro life. I believe life begins at conception. I do not like abortion. I understand that it is done and for many women they either choose that option and or feel that is their only option. I do not hate women who feel this way. I just know it’s something I could never do. At least that’s what I thought before this past Friday’s ruling….
On Friday, I started reading about women who use the pill to have an early abortion. They went on to say how this option will be illegal in some states and will no longer be available. This discussion reminded me of my first miscarriage. I had a missed miscarriage meaning my baby’s heart stopped beating at 8 weeks and 5 days but I didn’t find out until my 11 week ultrasound. My sweet baby, laid lifeless inside me for 2 weeks and 2 days until we found out at my ultrasound.
After my ultrasound I was sent to another room to discuss my options. They said I could take a pill to help my uterus contract and pass the baby, I could have a D & C procedure, or I could just allow my body to pass the baby on its own. At the time I remembered struggling on deciding what to do. Ultimately, I decided on a D & C.
It occurred to me on Friday that I technically had an abortion. I had an abortion procedure not to kill my baby and not to terminate my pregnancy but to clean out my uterus for my own health, so I didn’t become septic.
With the most recent ruling, I can’t help but wonder Did I do the right thing getting a D & C? Should I have not done anything? Should I have let my body pass my baby naturally? Did what I decided go against my ethics and morals?
These thoughts troubled me for a while. I know I didn’t kill my baby, but I did allow medical intervention for my own health. I also started to wonder how this new ruling will affect other women of pregnancy loss. Will they now no longer have the option for a D & C or a pill after losing their pregnancy? Are more women going to die from pregnancy complications and pregnancy loss?
I’m not sure. I don’t think there is a clear cut, black and white answer.
Do I think I had an abortion? Technically yes. According to the medical definition… yes. But if Jesus were to take me today, and I were to go before God, I don’t think I did anything spiritually wrong for putting my health first and choosing to have a D & C instead of naturally miscarrying.
This Roe v. Wade overturn is complicated and I don’t completely know what this means for our country. I’m scared and interested to see what happens next.
Since my son was born, I have found myself going through a lot of old photos. My intention of this was really just to see how much my son ended up looking like me. But as I’ve perused different photos, I found myself going down memory lane, and really thinking back to the last 7 years and the experiences that have helped mold me as the person I am today.
In September of 2014, I met an 18 year old boy in Spanish class. He was kind, polite and a little nosey. I didn’t know it then that he would one day be my husband. ❤️
I didn’t intend to meet my future husband in Spanish class. I actually signed up for the class so I could prepare for a mission trip to the Dominican Republic in February of 2015. This trip changed my life. I learned how to be grateful for the things I have, like an indoor shower, a floor and air conditioning. I also grew more in love with helping others and teaching children. 🖍
In the fall of 2016, I became a lead preschool teacher for 3 year olds. I graduated from community college in the Spring of 2016 and instead of heading straight to a university, I decided to take a gap year and gain some experience in my field. It was wonderfully challenging to say the least. Everyday was an adventure. From potty training, to positive child guidance, to sickness, to coloring on the wall, to giggle fits, to Disney dance parties; it was enjoyable and one of the best years of my life.
While planning my classroom that fall I also planned my wedding. Talk about a lot on your plate all at once. Charles proposed in August and we got married in mid November. A beautiful fall wedding that wonderfully captured our love for God and love for each other. 💒
In Spring of 2018, I decided to go back to school to further my education. I had already received an Associates in Early Childhood Education and an Associates in General Studies at community college. My next step was to a university for a Bachelors in Child and Family Development.
While studying for my Bachelors, I hit a little bump in the road and got pregnant. Though it wasn’t planned, we were excited and ready to venture into parenting. Sadly our first pregnancy came to an end at 11 weeks.
After my first miscarriage, I started writing my blog, and sharing my story to cope with my grief and help others. I had the opportunity to get published in a magazine, and start a blogging platform on WordPress and Instagram.
After my second miscarriage, I got involved in advocacy work on my college campus. Even though I didn’t agree with everything that was taught, I did learn the fundamentals of what it means to be an advocate, overcoming trauma and standing up for what you believe in
After many twists and turns, I finally graduated with my Bachelors in Child and Family Development. I may have graduated in a pandemic, which certainly wasn’t planned, but I was able to finish my education and start my new career.
Shortly after graduating and getting back into my field of teaching and child care, I decided to work on a new project. I wrote and illustrated a children’s book about miscarriage and grief.
In August of 2020, my mothering heart was longing for a baby. And though we had decided to hold off trying for a baby, we decided to try adopting and caring for a kitten. We went to a local cat cafe where we met Breadstick. This little 4 month old kitten worked his way into our laps and our hearts. We adopted him on a Friday afternoon, renamed him Rocky, and the rest is history.
On Mother’s Day of 2020, my husband and I decided to try again one more time. We prayed and hoped and waited for a baby. Our trying to conceive journey lasted a year and was full of ups and downs, negative test after test until finally we got out positive.
Pregnancy after suffering two losses was not easy. I worried constantly about the unknown, the past and things I couldn’t control. Thankfully with faith, prayer and encouragement I learned to be thankful for pregnancy and appreciate each moment as it came.
During my pregnancy, I mentally and emotionally prepared for my upcoming roll of motherhood. I leaned on other mom friends as well as my mom as I prepared for the journey ahead.
Giving birth was one of the most life changing experiences of my life. No things did not go as planned as I did not plan on being induced or being in labor for 3 days. But with the support of Jesus, family, friends and my medical team… I realized what my body was capable of and I had the strength to give birth to my beautiful miracle baby.
On January 2nd I became a mom, a mom earth-side that is. I’m not just a mom, but I’m a mom to two angel babies as well as one pretty incredible rainbow baby.
These last 7 years have been amazing, stressful, exhausting, entertaining, relaxing, memorable, wonderful, hilarious, beautiful and challenging. I love my life. It is exactly like and nothing like I had pictured. As a 19 year old girl, taking classes at a community college, to a new mom, with an education in children… I have to say, so far my life has turned out pretty great.
The following post was written after my first loss in 2019. In this post I discuss my crisis of faith and the peace I felt when I had finally come to terms with my first loss.
So I’m gonna be honest… I have been dreading writing this post. It’s not because it’s hard, I’m lazy or I just don’t want to talk about being restored in Jesus. I mostly think, my hesitation for writing this post is because I am so humbled and gracious for all God has provided for me. I am also feeling somewhat guilty for how I have treated Him.
Before I really dive into this post, I should give you a little background of my beliefs and faith. I grew up going occasionally to a white nondenominational church. I did this off and on with my aunt until I was about 10 years old. When I was 11 I started attending a weekly bible study with my friend and even attended Lake Ann Camp for a week. It was here that I asked Jesus into my heart and to forgive all my sins. I was born again. When I was 12 I started going with my best friends to a larger white baptist church. I faithfully went to that church for about 6 years. At this church I attended many church camps, found growth and strength in my relationship with Jesus as well as wonderful fellowship with friends. I also was baptized and learned how to be a God fearing, woman of God. When I was 19 I attended my first mission trip. I knew of many people who had been on mission trips and claimed they were life changing, but I didn’t believe it until I experienced it. I traveled to Santo Domingo, Dominican Republic where I met so many children, created food packages, clothing bundles and even helped build houses for widows and their children. This trip changed my life. At 19 I also started teaching 2 and 3 year olds in children’s church. Even though I felt lost in the church, I was slowly starting to discover my purpose.
When I was 19 almost 20, I decided to start attending my husband’s black nondenominational church (we were only dating at the time). Part of the reason I made the switch to a new church again is simply because, I just felt lost not knowing my identity in church or feeling like I had much of a church family. At this church it was smaller and I felt more at home and accepted. It was here my relationship with Jesus really took off. I was able to grow in skills of faithfulness, trust and even obedience.
“WE GOT MARRIED IN THE SAME CHURCH MY GRANDPARENTS WERE MARRIED IN 50+ YEARS AGO.”
Before meeting my husband, I had developed boundaries, and goals of what and how I would like to be pursued by a man, how I wanted to engage in a courtship instead of a dating relationship, and what I would like as far as values and characteristics of my future husband. When I met Charles, he wasn’t totally familiar with courtship, but he completely valued a Christian based relationship. We courted for two years, and were engaged for three months. We got married in the same church my grandparents got married in 50+ years ago. Our wedding was beautiful with traditional vows, our first kiss at the alter, and the moment I gave my purity ring to my groom. I wouldn’t change a thing.
Fast forward to January 2019, when I became pregnant. Charles and I had been married for two years and two months. Both still faithful Christians, going to church at least every other week, and thanking God for all that we have. I was content and even excited in where I was. I was pregnant, about to be a mom. We shared this news with my church family, and they rejoiced with us. Everything was great, not perfect but pretty close.
My heart and all my hopes and dreams shattered when we lost MacKenzie. Since there was no concrete reason for such a terrible loss, who could we blame? Well… unfortunately, I chose to blame God. The one being who is In charge of the whole universe, I assumed He had control over this situation and He let me down. I would even go so far to say at the time I hated Him. I cringe at even admitting that. But it’s true. My anger and my hatred was so strong at myself and at God.
“MY ANGER AND MY HATRED WAS SO STRONG AT MYSELF AND AT GOD.”
The time between my ultrasound and by surgery, I didn’t really pray much. I think if I did it was just asking things like “Why God?” and “How could you?” I know I worried I would end up miscarrying naturally, before my surgery, but I don’t think I prayed about it. I had hundreds of people praying for me, which was comforting because at the time I just didn’t have the strength. The only time I remember praying was as I was getting rolled to the operating room. I was so sad. I wanted to die. However, I didn’t want to die and hurt other people. I couldn’t bare imagining dying and leaving my friends and family behind to grieve and mourn my loss. So, I prayed. I asked God to get me through. When I woke up from surgery I cried, screaming and told God I hated Him. It was awful. I was still under anaesthesia but I felt like I was watching myself scream from outside my body. I’m ashamed at how I was acting. But honestly, this is what heartbreak looked like.
The weeks following the miscarriage, I continued to fall into depression and blame God. It really hurt my husband to see me like this. I refused to go to church for over a month. I didn’t want anyone to say anything to set me off. I also just didn’t want to come to Jesus and praise His name. So I didn’t. I cried at home, and journaled instead.
By about 5 weeks after the miscarriage, I decided to go back. It wasn’t because I wanted to find comfort in Jesus, it was because I missed my church family. When we went back we were greeted by some kind words as well as some not so helpful words. Most people at the church knew what had happen, but still didn’t know how to react. Once I was there, I was ready to leave. I didn’t want to be there anymore, I came to church but that’s it. That was enough for me at the time.
” I DON’T REALLY THINK I HAD ONE ‘COME TO JESUS’ MOMENT, BUT RATHER A BUNCH OF LITTLE MOMENTS…”
So, looking back I don’t really think I had one Come to Jesus moment, but rather a bunch of little moments that helped me. After many conversations with my mom, she helped me see that having a baby in Heaven who is perfect, living joyfully and without pain is sometimes better than having a baby here on earth who is sick and in pain all their life. Seeing various rainbows in the sky, gave me peace. It was like a spiritual humbling peace, that showed me that my baby was okay up in Heaven. Going to church and having my sister-in-law pray over me was also so powerful. She just kept saying something good would come out of this, double for my trouble so to speak. But the most surprising moment that happen, was more about Charles grief than mine. As we were praying at church one day, he just burst out crying. He was crying in anguish and devastation that mirrored my own devastation and heart break. This was a side of him I had never seen before.
Through all of these moments and more, I realized yet again there is an all powerful and loving God. He is the creator of the universe, the planets and the stars… and yet He cares for me! He loves me. I am just a spec on this large planet, but to Him I am everything. I am His daughter. i was wounded, I was angry, and I was broken… and He still loved me. My baby died, but it wasn’t His fault. He allowed it to happen for a reason. The reason being she would have been in pain here on earth, and he knew if I had to watch her in pain everyday, that would have destroyed me more than miscarrying her. He is a gracious and good God.
It has taken me a really long time to get here, but I have. I’ve made peace with God. Even though it hurt, and it still hurts I know it happened for a reason. I know I have a little baby up in Heaven watching over me. I know she is living her best life probably chasing a butterfly. I know she’s okay.
I cry as I write this because I was so awful. I was wrong. Jesus took my baby home, for everyone’s best interest, and for that I am grateful. He is good. I’ve made my peace. I’ve said I’m sorry and I’m trying to do better. I can’t believe I’m saying this but, I am thankful for this lesson of grief and love. I am so thankful I was able to carry my baby, if only for a short time. And I am so thankful that even though I constantly pushed Him away, Jesus never left me, and when I came running back to Him… He welcomed me with love and open arms.
When I was 19 weeks pregnant, my husband and I started discussing baby names. I wanted to find a name for a girl and a boy. I wanted to do this so that when we found out at our 20 week anatomy scan what we were having, we could give the baby a name right away. There was something about giving baby a name for the second half of the pregnancy that made things seem even more real.
On my birthday, when I was exactly 19 weeks pregnant, Charles woke up and told me he had a dream. He dreamt that he was at some sort of musical event and his old choir director from college saw him. They started talking and his old choir director said “How’s baby Matt doing?” Then he woke up. Charles had another dream that same night where he was playing with a baby girl named Grace.
Later in the morning as we were getting ready for breakfast Charles told me about the dream. He then suggested that if we were having a boy we should name him Matthew and if we were having a girl we should name her Grace.
I was shocked at his suggestion for the boy name, because Charles had momentarily forgotten that I had had a brother named Matthew. My brother Matthew died before I was born. He was 9 months old and died of a rare genetic condition, At first I wasn’t totally sure how I would feel about having a brother and a son named Matthew.
Throughout the week, I continued contemplating both the names Matthew and Grace. I focused mostly on Matthew because I still had this strong feeling we were having a boy. I decided to look up the meaning of the name Matthew just to see what it said. A gift from God. I thought How perfect is that!? Our rainbow baby’s name means A gift from God. Charles and I loved the meaning of the name and we also loved that it was classic, biblical and could be shortened to Matt or Matty.
About a week later we had our anatomy scan. We found out we were having a precious baby boy. We didn’t tell anyone about the boy name we had picked out until 23 weeks. At that time, I asked my mom if she would mind if we named our son Matthew. She was absolutely honored that we had even considered that name. She loved that her first grandson would be named after her son and she loved the meaning of the name.
So there you have it. We named our son Matthew. He is named after my brother and is our gift from God. ❤️
After my miscarriage, I was very angry with God. I appreciated people who prayed for me, but I did not want to hear of God’s promises or biblical scripture. I was having a crisis of faith. Eventually, I was able to find joy and forgiveness in God and what He has planned for me. The following is a list biblical scriptures that I found helpful after my miscarriage. My hope is that if you are reading this… you can also find joy and comfort in these scriptures.
“Yet those who wait for the Lord, will gain new strength. They will mount up with wings like eagles. They will run and not get tired. They will walk and not become weary.” – Isaiah 40:31
“When I am afraid, I put my trust in you.” – Psalms 56:3
“God is within her, she will not fall. God will help her at break of day.” – Psalm 46:5
“Blessed are those who mourn for they will be comforted.” – Matthew 5:4
“Do not be anxious about anything, but in every situation by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving present your requests to God. And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.” – Philippians 4:6 – 7
“Cast all your anxiety on him, because he cares for you.” – 1 Peter 5:7