I jotted down these words around this time 8 years ago. We were just months out from losing our Maggie girl and I was in a desperate, dark place. I struggled to get up in the morning--my little boys proved to be the only two reasons I could set one foot in front of the other, to continue inhaling + exhaling each day. I struggled to eat enough to keep my body going--a default mode that became even more profound when combined with the circumstances we were wading through. I struggled to sleep each night--nightmares plagued any rest that would find me. I struggled to cope with the harsh new reality of an empty room meant for a little girl that would never be coming home to us. I wrestled HARD with God. I was so angry and appalled that this was ever part of His plan for our story. In the same breath, I hung on for dear life by my fingertips to the unfathomable comfort only He could provide in unfathomable loss. As difficult as it is to revisit some of the rawest days, I am grateful. Looking back, I can see so many incredible ways in which my God moved and His people rallied--ways I could not even comprehend while sinking beneath the weight of grief.
We still miss her greatly. We still mourn the life that is missing in our family. If you had told me then how life would look now--that joy + sorrow could coexist together in this messy, broken, tattered heart of mine—I don't think I would have believed you. In the months and years after losing our Maggie girl (along with two other babes we never got to meet), God has given me the words in 2 Corinthians 1:3-7
"Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of mercies and God of all comfort, who comforts us in all our affliction so that we will be able to comfort those who are in any affliction with the comfort with which we ourselves are comforted by God. For just as the sufferings of Christ are ours in abundance, so also our comfort is abundant through Christ."
Today is Pregnancy + Infant Loss Remembrance Day. Chances are we all know someone—or ARE that someone—who has said a heartbreaking goodbye too soon. Holding close those that are walking their own path of grief, especially those missing their precious babes today. You are loved and seen and heard and known. And you do not grieve alone.