Friday, April 1, 2011

The M Word

Miscarriage. There it is. Miscarriage.

I lost a baby this week. And I am so sad about it. We have been dreaming on and wanting this baby for an awfully long time now and we already loved him/her so much. My heart is still so raw and fragile from losing my sweet Jameson and it is broken all over again. Yes, this is different. No, it is not as difficult. Except it happened so very soon after J died; the scabs on my heart have been entirely ripped off and now the loss is multiplied. I can’t help but wonder how much one person can really take and still survive. How can a pulverized heart continue to beat?

Maybe that is the miracle. I keep praying for miracles. With Jameson, I hoped and prayed and begged and pleaded for the miracle until the very end and even then I still asked again. Can’t he be a Lazarus? And this time when things just didn’t feel right and I couldn’t ignore that nagging feeling that maybe, just maybe I need to call the doctor, I prayed again and hoped again. And even after the lab results and pain, I still hoped beyond hope for the miracle. But the miracle isn’t for my babies. The miracle is for me. It is nothing short of a miracle that my pulverized heart is still beating. That I am able to get out of bed each and every morning and still see an abundance of beauty, love and grace.

I am a broken woman. I am battered and bruised and my soul aches with loss and lost dreams. But I am also a saved woman. It is only through this amazing grace that saves me again and again and again that I can continue to live and love with courage and confidence.

Do not fear, for I have redeemed you; I have called you by name, you are mine. When you pass through the waters, I will be with you; and through the rivers, they shall not overwhelm you; when you walk through fire you shall not be burned, and the flame shall not consume you. For I am the Lord your God, the Holy One of Israel, your Savior. -Isaiah 43:1b-3a

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