On Friday we learned that our little unborn baby had gone home to be with the Lord.
Inexplicably, our baby had no heartbeat and had stopped growing at about 13 weeks’ gestation. I was 16 weeks pregnant. We also learned that the baby was likely a girl. This was our third miscarriage.
The past few days have been quiet ones. My mother, thankfully, was in town and stayed a couple of extra days. My husband took the kids on Saturday to see his dad and his sisters, who were in from out-of-state. Our four-year-old stayed behind to play with his cousin, and give us some extra quiet at home. My mom grocery-shopped and cooked me a hearty batch of Julia’s Boeuf Bourguignon, and some Bolognese sauce.
I’ve spent a lot of time in bed, watching movies on the laptop and writing in my journal. Crying. Thinking. Praying. Uploading pictures and editing them and sending them to family. Making a list of things I would enjoy doing in the days and weeks to come. I took some pictures with my 35mm lens of the peonies my mom brought in from outside and set by my bed for me. … They smell wonderful.
Grief is different every day. I don’t mind it terribly, at least for today. I don’t mind the crying. I am glad to cry for my daughter, because she deserves it. I am resting in this little pocket of time where no one expects anything of me and I have full permission to sit in my room in privacy. This is becoming a familiar road. The comfort of the Lord is like a tried-and-true balm that has healed my wounds before. And I know He will heal them again.
“He was … a man of sorrows, and acquainted with grief…” (Isaiah 53:3)
“Surely He has borne our griefs and carried our sorrows.” (v. 4)
“The Lord is near to the brokenhearted and saves the crushed in spirit.” (Psalm 34:18)
“I love the Lord, because He has heard my voice and my pleas for mercy. Because He inclined His ear to me, therefore I will call on Him as long as I live.” (Psalm 116:1-2)
What can I say? I don’t understand it. I wish I knew what it all was for, but I trust that one day, it will be revealed. Until then, we hold fast. We call on Him as long as we live. We persevere, imperfectly, and only by His grace. This will be a process, but we will get through it. The Lord will redeem our suffering.