(dress // sunglasses // shoes // necklace-similar)
If you had asked me four years ago if I thought this would be me four years down the road, I would have said no. Four years ago, I was so overwhelmed with grief and pain.
I felt like I was free-falling into an abyss. I couldn’t figure out which way was up. All I could do was cry. A lot. I prayed and begged God to somehow rewind time. Somehow make it all better.
I still don’t fully understand WHY I had to lose my baby, and never will. That’s just it though. That baby was never MINE. All of my children are God’s. They were never mine to begin with. They aren’t mine now. I don’t have to know why God does things, I just have to remember that HE IS GOOD.
Grief is a funny thing. When you are in the midst of it, it’s heavy. It’s dark and painful. You feel like you will never be able to breathe again, because even breathing hurts.
But, here I am. I still grieve. This week always brings a dark cloud that looms over my head. I don’t have to give in. I need to take time to grieve each year. I need to grieve the kisses that I never got to give. The nights that I never got to rock my baby to sleep. There are so many things that I missed out on, so I grieve. I can’t camp out there. I have three daughters who deserve a present mama. Life is beautiful even in the darkness.
Quinn, I hope you know how loved and missed you are.
If you are going through a miscarriage, please don’t go it alone. Talk to someone. It’s ok to hurt. It doesn’t matter how many healthy children you have; every one is a blessing. Don’t let anyone tell you differently. If you have no one to talk to, please email me (email@example.com). I would love to pray for you, cry with you, and be a source of encouragement for you.