September 19

Today is a strange day for me. This was the original due date of our first baby that we lost from a miscarriage in 2005. It’s strange because it’s such a combination of emotions and thoughts.

My heart still aches as I remember the excitement and joy we were able to feel for several weeks before that quickly changed to devastation. I still remember the feeling of complete shock as I was getting my 10-week sonogram only to find out that there didn’t appear to be a heartbeat anymore. The next 7 days of just waiting to see what would happen were torture. Complete torture. I still felt pregnant, and I desperately wanted to be pregnant. Yet in the back of my mind, I was already accepting what would come to be. Then an outpatient visit to the hospital made it much more final. Throughout the next few months, it was such a roller coaster of emotions. It seemed that after September 19, I kind of felt in a better place to move on and forward. This is a letter I wrote that night two years ago:

To my sweet baby,
It’s hard to believe that it was only 7 months ago when we found out that we had lost you. That was one of the hardest and saddest weeks of my life so far. Your Daddy and I were devastated.

It’s already the day that at one time I was so excited about. Now it’s the day I dreaded the most. I wish that tonight was different. I wish that instead of sitting at home writing this letter, I was rushing around the house finishing the last touches on your nursery. I wish that I was packing the special bag to bring to the hospital. I wish that I was picking out which onesie to bring you home in. There are lots of things over this past year that I’ve wished for…most importantly, I wish that I would’ve been able to know you.

Even though it still hurts and I wish I could do something to change things, I just have to trust and believe that God works all things together for good somehow. And I know that I’ll be with you again one day.
Love, Mommy

So now two years later, I look at my adorable, healthy 9-month-old son, whom I love beyond words. I see and hear stories all of the time of those who have also lost a baby, those who can’t get pregnant, or those whose babies are faced with health problems. I am reminded not to take him for granted.

I was heartbroken over losing the first baby, and the sadness is still there. But at the same time, the sting seems a little softer as time goes on, and I fall even more in love with this little blue-eyed boy. I don’t ever pretend to fully or even somewhat understand God. In fact, I have a hard time when others tell me exactly why God let something happen a certain way. How do we know? How do we really understand? So today, I’m going to remind myself that I don’t have to figure it all out. I still grieve for that little one who won’t ever have a name, but I also delight in and thank God for the gift of my little man Tate.