Loss after loss…

When Miranda died there were a number of well-meaning people that proceeded to tell me stories of all the children-after-loss that they knew of or bore. They were stories of how blessed they felt to receive a child who could not have existed if there wasn’t the loss first.

They meant these stories to comfort me. But they weren’t and aren’t comforting.

[pinit]

Submitting to God’s will by letting Miranda go did not come with a promise for a child after her.

All of our children are gifts, not promises.

I had hope for another blessing, but over the months there hasn’t been one.

We are now nine+ months from Miranda’s birth, right at the time frame of the spacing between my other children. There was no child meant to be here in Miranda’s stead. There is no miracle baby that could not have existed if Miranda had lived.

The baby-loss community refers to babies after loss as Rainbow Babies, much like the rainbow appears after a storm is clearing. It is not to say the storm never was, it is just a reminder that the storm is passing.

But sometimes as a storm passes we don’t see a rainbow… it’s followed by the rest of the storm front.

The last week of May I had a hunch and took a home pregnancy test. To my surprise it was positive. Vince and I were nervous and happy all at the same time. We began to talk of how we would share that mix of emotions with everyone.

One week later, before we had the chance to share with anyone, that tiny life slipped away and I miscarried the pregnancy.

It was the same day we were supposed to share our testimony of hope to a nearby church. The event was cancelled due to inclement weather. I appreciated that for so many reasons, it was a gift of grace in that gray moment.

We’ve now faced a loss that no one even knew existed.

How do you bring that up in conversation, even with your closest friends or family? Some of you are reading this right now wondering why I haven’t said anything to you. All I can offer is that all of it is awkward at best and I just couldn’t find the words to say. It has taken a month to wrap my head around it and put it into a coherent thought. It is part of the reason I was not able to write for the past month, a huge piece of me was hiding. I needed to put it out here just so that I don’t feel like everything else I write is a superficial cover.

Mourning this loss is quite different than losing Miranda. We grieve all that is unknown. Would the baby have been a boy or a girl? What would we have chosen as a name? Would he have had a lot of hair, or a bald little bean? So much unknown.

(Our other children do not know about this loss. They are not ready and would not understand. They pray for and ask often about a new sibling. I can not even begin to comprehend how to explain this when their emotions are still so raw about their baby sister. There will be an appropriate time to tell them as they get a little older, when more wounds have healed.)

At the same time, because we are walking through life after tragic loss we know that healing is possible and that it will continue to be a long process. I’m still not quite ready to give up the hope for another baby, but I have peace that if God does not bless us with one that He will satisfy my heart of that desire.

I know He has us in His hands and that my Miranda and her little brother or sister are waiting to see us some day.

This post is being shared in the Still Standing monthly link-up The Journey