The Day I Miscarried

Even with the excitement of preparing for our little ones to arrive soon, there is still a little tug of heartache for the infertility road we traveled and the babies we lost. And September 7th will always be a hard day for me. It's an anniversary I would rather not celebrate, but it's not one that I can ever forget. 

One year ago today, I miscarried 2 of our precious babies. Mike was out of town, and it was the most terrifying and emotionally draining experience in our infertility journey. In many ways, I felt so lost and alone, and yet I can pinpoint it as a time that I physically felt the presence of God. So while I don't enjoy remembering the pain from that day, I will never forget the comfort and love I also felt that day. It was hard to see, but it was nonetheless there. And I am so grateful.

Apparently, God tends to meet me on bathroom floors during medical crises...

The day I went into the hospital with severe Crohn's symptoms, Mike found me curled up in the fetal position on the bathroom floor. I was in the worst physical pain of my life, felt so incredibly sick, and literally thought I might be dying. There was pain, and blood, and tears. From that bathroom floor, I cried out to God in such anguish and need. I remember having the conversation with the Lord, begging Him to just go ahead and take me. It was in that moment, on that bathroom floor in our Leland house that I physically felt the Lord wrap His arms around me, offering comfort and peace.

The day I miscarried, I found myself once again curled up in the fetal position on the bathroom floor. Since my miscarriage was so early, I didn't have to have a D&C and miscarried with tolerable pain at home, but it was by far the worst emotional pain of my life. There was pain, and blood, and tears. From that bathroom floor, I cried out to God, begging Him to somehow spare my babies, despite what I knew was happening. It was in that moment, on that bathroom floor in our Sherrye house that I, once again, physically felt the Lord wrap His arms around me, offering comfort and peace.

It has taken many months of prayer and counseling to process our loss. And while the Lord has slowly brought healing and peace, I still feel the emotional loss and will always wonder....what would they have looked like? Who would they have been? For the rest of my life, I will mourn the loss of our babies, as well as all of the milestones that we will never get to experience with them. 

But I will always remember the day that the Lord met me on the bathroom floor. The day He cried with me, held me, whispered how much He loved me. He reminded me that this loss was not hidden from His sight, and that it was just a painful reminder of a broken world. But He also reminded me that His Son bore all the pain of the world so that I could know comfort and peace like nothing else this world could offer. He reminded me that a day is coming when there will be no more Crohn's, no more infertility, no more miscarriage. No more pain, blood, or tears. 

So while September 7th is a difficult day to remember, it is also a good day where we can be reminded that where there is death, God brings life. Where there is loss, in Jesus, there is always gain. We lost our sweet babies, but we gained the knowledge of a good and faithful God. We learned that He is close to the brokenhearted, and He is better than all the good things we could ever lose. 

He is holding our sweet babies now, and He will be our strength and our song for the rest of our days.