My Would-Be Due Date: August 29, 2012

Since my miscarriage in January, not a single day (hour maybe?) has gone by that I haven't thought about it.  Most of the time, it's just a passing thought, as I think about how far along I'd be or how big the baby would be.  But sometimes, it overwhelms me so much that I find my heart breaking all over again.  This week is proving to be especially hard for me since our baby was due on August 29th.  Seven months later and the thought that I should be getting ready to bring a baby home from the hospital is still floating around in my mind.

Yesterday, as I played baby dolls with my daughter and watched how loving and sweet she is with pretend babies, I lost it.  She often asks me for a friend and points out that Ian and Brodie are friends, but she doesn't have a sister.  Ellery asked me if I was crying because I missed Great Papa. I know she was trying to remember a time in her life when she had seen me this upset and my grandpa's funeral came into her mind.  I told her I was just sad and she said, "It's okay, Momma.  You will see Papa again someday.  He's with Jesus."

I thanked God for the comfort he sent to me in the words of a two-year-old.  I had the World's Most Wonderful Grandpa and I thought of him holding my baby in Heaven.  A few days before he died in June, he told me he wanted to hold my "other baby, the baby girl."  When I told him Ellery is the only baby girl I have, he told me I was wrong and he would hold my other baby later.  This delightful old man said lots of things that didn't make sense toward the end of his life, so I didn't think much of it.  But now I'm thankful for his seemingly crazy talk.  And I am thankful I have a grandpa who walked with Christ, who is now in Heaven loving on the baby I haven't gotten to meet yet.

Often, I wonder about those who don't know Christ.  How do they make it through each day?  How do they endure a miscarriage with no hope of ever seeing their baby in Heaven?  Anger and sadness must overtake their lives.  Even on my hardest days of healing from this loss, I know that God's hands are wrapped around my life and He loves me.  How amazing and wonderful to know that the Creator of the entire universe has chosen me to be His child and he holds every tear I've ever cried.

I always seem to turn to Psalms when I need encouragement.  There is always a verse that speaks directly to my heart.  Psalm 62:1-2 says:  "Hear my cry, O God; listen to my prayer.  From the ends of the earth I call to you, I call as my heart grows faint; lead me to the rock that is higher than I."

What an awesome reminder that when we are feeling overwhelmed, we need to seek God and his wisdom, rather than attempt to figure it out on our own.  I may never know why my miscarriage happened, but I know the One who does.  And I trust Him.