Two years ago today I had to say goodbye to my baby. It was much sooner than I ever imagined. Miscarriage effects one in four women. I felt so alone in the months that followed our loss. But that statistic says that I was far from alone. That statistic says there are many, many babies together in heaven who left their mamas too soon. And that’s one of the reasons I talk about it. I don’t want a mom to feel alone in her loss. It doesn’t matter how far along she was in her pregnancy. That was her baby. She was carrying a life in her womb and now she’s not. The pain and grief is so real. The loss can feel unbearable. And then you’re surrounded by people with good intentions, but don’t know what to say.
But there is another reason I talk about it. I will never get to see or hold my baby this side of heaven. I will never watch him grow up. I have nothing physical to hold onto. Most of my memories about his short life are traumatic. But I don’t let any of that discount his life. It had meaning. It changed me in so many ways. I talk about it because it happened. It reminds me that it was real and that it was meaningful. Talking about it validates my feelings. It reminds others that it happened.
I recently heard someone at church say that we never worship alone. When we worship God, all of those in heaven join in our worship. It fills my heart to know that my baby worships with me every. single. time. Happy second heavenly birthday, my worshipper. I’m joining with you and all those in heaven in worship today.