I lost my baby.
It's been almost six weeks since our angel baby went home to be with Christ. Six weeks of putting away the few baby items we had accumulated since finding out we were pregnant. Six weeks of learning how to move forward and trust God. Six weeks of watching friends and family who are pregnant hit milestones, get ultrasounds, and reveal genders that we don't get to experience right now.
And while that feels like six weeks of torture and pain, it's been a very enlightening six weeks for me.
God has spoken to me a lot during my healing time, and has opened my eyes to so much that He wants me to know. He's shown me just how strong I really am, and how deep my faith in Him runs. He's taught me what His timing means, and that when His time comes, the blessings will be perfect. He's given me the opportunity to bless others and to be a witness of His provisions and strength.
One of the biggest things I struggled with through all of this was how I was supposed to praise God through this storm. It's a song lyric I hear, a Christian sentiment that is passed on so often to remind us to stay strong through the dark times we experience. But I quickly found it's much easier to say it than to do it. How am I supposed to raise my hands and thank God for this overwhelming sadness? What do I say in praise to Him when all I can do is cry and ask why? How in the world am I supposed to be thankful that I had to fall in love with this little baby that I lost before I even had the chance to hold them?
It's not easy.
I don't even know if I did it right.
And at first, praising Him through all of this was almost as painful as the loss itself, especially when all I wanted to do was yell at Him for letting me experience all of this, only to have it taken away.
So I was honest with Him. I told Him how I had no idea how I was supposed to praise Him and be thankful through all of this pain and anger. I asked Him to give me the words of praise because I didn't even know what to say. I thanked Him for letting me be a mommy to this little baby, even if it was only for 9 weeks. For days, those few statements were all I could manage. But that's all it took. He began to open my eyes to the strength He was giving me, and the trust I was putting in Him to bless us in His perfect timing. He reminded me that every tear I've cried, He's holding in His hands along with our Nugget. And He showed me that through it all, He was my rock, my salvation, and my saving grace that knows the desires of my heart as I seek Him. Eventually, my prayers became less about why this happened, and more about thanking God for His bigger plan, even if I couldn't see it or understand it.
Without a doubt, God has used this loss to not only show me how strong I am through Him, but to allow me to be a light to others who don't understand how I can find peace and strength through all of this sadness.
I lost my baby.
My heart still aches for the little one I will never get to hold during my time on this Earth.
But I know that God has used this loss for His glory and for His bigger plan, and I find so much security and joy in knowing that if even one person in my life had a clearer understanding of where my peace, strength, and comfort comes from, then I know that my loss is His gain.