>> October 15th | Pregnancy and Infant Loss Remembrance Day. 


Seven is our number.  Seven of the most celebrated, sacred pieces of our story.  Adam and I have been given 7 precious, wanted, beloved new lives, and every other one was called back to our Savior.  Two miscarriages and our Maggie Girl born so still at 31 weeks.  I know so many sisters, near and far, with their own stories of loss.  Some are spoken, others remain silent.  Some have weathered years of anniversaries, for others the hurt and aching arms are new and heavy and raw.  My heart breaks for you, sister, and the loss you have endured.  And my heart HOPES with you, sister, for the steadfast promise of the sweetest reunion with our babes one day.  Much love to the Mamas that carried, the Daddies that mourned, the Brotherhoods and Sisterhoods that would have been, and the Dear Ones that rallied to carry, cry alongside, acknowledge and remember.


When our two older boys started Kindergarten and 2nd grade this past August, I decided to take a step back from the things that pulled me away from them.  While I continued to capture the moments that framed in the day-to-day of our life, and jotted down the things I just couldn't bear to let slip out of my memory, I struggled to think much further than home.  With hectic schedules and new routines, my three little boys needed me more than ever, and I had more processing to do than I had words to explain. 

This past July we said goodbye to another precious baby. 

After months of waiting and hoping to see that pink plus sign, we were thrilled to finally watch it appear, and wasted no time sharing our news.  Elation and joy took a sharp turn 7 weeks in when we found ourselves once again questioning, unraveling and asking why God would say "yes" only to say "no" just weeks later.  Hopes raised sky high and sent crashing to the pit once again.


Six pregnancies.

Six new beginnings.

Six of the best moments of my life spent staring down at a flicker of hope and anticipation contained in a faint pink line, and we have said goodbye to every other babe.

3 precious lives here.

3 waiting for us There.

And 1 . . .

growing inside.

While we count ourselves extremely blessed to wrap our arms around the three wiggly boys we have been fortunate enough to take home and do life with every single day, it grieves us immensely to have 3 children that we have never had the privilege of knowing.  Whether at Week 6, Week 7 or Week 31, a lost life aches deeply, and the holes in our family where they would be are each profound. 

I could not wrap my mind, heart and body around the loss of our sweet baby this past summer.

 I feared my still-tender heart was not strong enough to survive another blow.

I had words with God. 

Harsh words.

Desperate words.

Familiar, hopeless words.

New wounds erupting, old wounds stinging fresh once again.

I am so thankful for these four sweeties.

I cannot imagine walking the emptiness without these little boys who bring such fullness to my life, my beloved Adam who bears the load when I cannot and grieves alongside me, and a Father in Heaven that holds my precious babies just as tenderly as He holds me. 

In the midst of the darkness and unraveling, we learned we were expecting again. 



While no other life could ever take the place of our Maggie girl, we serve a God of REDEMPTION, and I have been deeply soaking in the warmth and beauty of this new life we've been given. A piece of our Maggie's legacy carried on in the life of her baby sister.  The months have not passed without anxiousness, hesitation and fear.  Satan would love nothing more than to taint this precious joy with crippling worry and doubt.  Some days the battle is harder than others, and his lies speak louder than the Truth that I know is sovereign and good.  It has done my heart inexpressible good to be trusted with the privilege of a second sweet daughter.  It has been such a joy to watch my husband rejoice and soak up the sweetness, and look on as our sons overflow at the chance to be big brothers to another precious sister.

Such a gift.

Such an honor.

Such a delight.

We are preparing our hearts and our family to begin this new chapter, and let words of sweet praise fall often from our lips.

Thank you, Lord, for this life!

Maggie's Birthday {04.09.12 | Year Three}

“Farther along we’ll know all about it

Farther along we’ll understand why

Cheer up my brothers, live in the sunshine

We’ll understand this, all by and by

Tempted and tried, I wondered why

The good man died, the bad man thrives

And Jesus cries because he loves em’ both

We’re all cast-aways in need of ropes

Hangin’ on by the last threads of our hope

In a house of mirrors full of smoke

Confusing illusions I’ve seen

Where did I go wrong, I sang along

To every chorus of the song

That the devil wrote like a piper at the gates

Leading mice and men down to their fates

But some will courageously escape

The seductive voice with a heart of faith

While walkin’ that line back home

So much more to life than we’ve been told

It’s full of beauty that will unfold

And shine like you struck gold my wayward son

That deadweight burden weighs a ton

Go down into the river and let it run

And wash away all the things you’ve done

Forgiveness alright

Farther along we’ll know all about it

Farther along we’ll understand why

Cheer up my brothers, live in the sunshine

We’ll understand this, all by and by 

Still I get hard pressed on every side

Between the rock and a compromise

Like the truth and pack of lies fightin’ for my soul

And I’ve got no place left go

Cause I got changed by what I’ve been shown

More glory than the world has known

Keeps me ramblin’ on

Skipping like a calf loosed from its stall

I’m free to love once and for all

And even when I fall I’ll get back up

For the joy that overflows my cup

Heaven filled me with more than enough

Broke down my levee and my bluff

Let the flood wash me

And one day when the sky rolls back on us

Some rejoice and the others fuss

Cause every knee must bow and tongue confess

That the son of god is forever blessed

His is the kingdom, we’re the guests

So put your voice up to the test

Sing Lord, come soon

Farther along we’ll know all about it

Farther along we’ll understand why

Cheer up my brothers, live in the sunshine

We’ll understand this, all by and by”


"Farther Along"

by Josh Garrels

. . . 

I am thankful for May.

For me, the start of May is an exhale and a long-awaited period at the end of a month I struggle to stammer my way through each year.  April gets caught in my throat like a lump.  It threatens to unravel any trace of mending from the year before.  

April holds the heart-wrenching anniversaries of our Maggie girl's death and birth--in that order.  In a week's time we soaked up the joy of our sweet Mason turning 5 years old on April 4th, staggered through memories of the day we lost our baby girl on April 6th, celebrated the HOPE that Easter brings of life beyond the hurt of this world [THANK YOU, JESUS] on April 8th, and relived the all-too-brief moments we held our precious Maggie for the first and only time on April 9th.  It was a heavy week of bouncing up and down between joy and hope, sorrow and desperation.  The highest of highs and the lowest of lows packed into 6 days.

Maggie's birthday always leaves me so lost.  

No Happy Birthday hugs or kisses on her cheeks.

No watching her open up birthday gifts, take in birthday streamers and blow out 3 little birthday candles. No birthday girl.

Just the familiar, frantic emptiness each year.

Year three has brought on kicking and screaming, clenched fists, resentment, brokenness and more questions than answers.

It has been an ugly year for my heart.

For every inch forward there has been a landslide back.  Some days I feel like I just can't cope with the fact that this is our story and she will never be ours this side of Heaven.  Peace and hope have been hard to wrap my head and heart around. 

Hard just seems to be the theme right now.  I miss the sunshine.  I miss feeling joy FULLY.  It all just feels so unsettled--so unfinished.  I suppose it always will as long as I am here and she is There.  

Things people say:

"You have 3 boys that ARE here, and they need you."

"You never know what the future will hold.  You're young and could always try for another girl."

 "I just want you to be happy."

"I miss the old Missy."

"I don't know what to say to you."

"Three boys, huh.  Can't make girls?"

"You have to keep moving forward."

"It's been three years."

. . .

Things I wish I could say:

"I need my sons as much as they need me.  It would be a much darker road without them."

"Missing my daughter does not mean I love my sons any less.  Wanting her doesn't mean not wanting them.  Children are not interchangeable, and love for one does not outweigh love for another."

"I do not know what the future holds, but I'm aware that raising a daughter may not ever be part of the plan for our family, and that is so hard to grasp."

"I pray that my grief does not damage my children irreparably."

"I can't breathe."

"I miss the old me, too."

"I am so sorry I have missed your baby shower/little girl's birthday party/social anything.  I relish in the delight you take in your daughter. Truly.  Know that I delight in her with you.  In the same beat, my heart aches for what you have."

"I understand how hard it is to approach a grieving mama.  You don't have to have the right words--just acknowledging our Maggie blesses us immensely." 

"I am doing my best to not let grief swallow me whole.  Some days I succeed.  Some days I fail."


You are loved and missed desperately, Maggie girl.

Every. Single. Day.

Lord, come soon.

Happy Birthday, Maggie.

Maggie Olivia Miller

April 9, 2009

1:30 a.m.

2 pounds 13 ounces

15 inches

"If you know someone who has lost a child

or lost anybody who's important to them,

and you're afraid to mention them because you think you

 might make them sad by reminding them that they died,

they didn't forget they died.

You're not reminding them.

What you're reminding them of is that

 you remember that they lived,

and that's a great, great gift."

-Elizabeth Edwards


Missing our girl.

The details of her birthday wash over me and in a moment, I am right back in that room--meeting my daughter, saying goodbye before hello.  I didn't know how we would make it through that first year, but we did.  The Lord has given us the strength to endure another.  So hard to believe that two years have passed since we held her in our arms.  Today hurts.

Maggie girl, we love you so.

Celebrating you today, sweet daughter. 

We'll meet you there . . .