To the 1 in 4 Woman

It was a Wednesday morning (about 3 months ago), and all I needed to hear was “this is normal” one.more.time. from my doctor. After all, I had been told the past two days that everything was fine. I heard the heartbeat both days, and everything was fine.

I left work a little early, and my husband met me at the doctor’s office. I was 95% sure that the doctor was going to tell me that everything was fine (again – for the third day in a row) and send me home (again – for the third day in a row). After all, the previous day, the doctor told us that once you pass 6 weeks and hear the heartbeat, the survival rate was already up to 80%. And I was told to focus on that. So I did. I focused on that while sitting the chair, waiting for my sonogram.

I lay down on the bed for my sonogram, and was asked “Have you been having a lot of bleeding?” I said “Yes, that’s why I’m here.” And she proceeded say one of the hardest things I’ve ever heard.

There is no sac…

                                                                          …and there is no heartbeat.

So we sat in the doctor’s office, myself in tears (as I am now writing this) to hear the doctor say that she’s extremely sorry for our loss. She said that miscarriages are very common (it’s actually 1 in 4), but that I would never know it because woman rarely talk about it.

And I get it. I don’t talk about it. Even writing this is gut-wrenching.

But. I am going to talk about it.

So. To the 1 in 4 woman – I am one too. My heart hurts, and it hurts for you too. I had (still have) so many questions. Questions that test and push and strengthen my faith, questions that have forced me to be closer to my husband and family, and questions that I will never have the answers to.

One thing I do know is that You are not alone. Grieve, and mourn. It’s a loss. A loss of a life. A life, people! A life! I never agreed with abortion, but I guess was never put in a situation where I had a cold-hard stance on it. Until the day that we lost our own. How in the world do women actually choose to end their baby’s life? I will never know.

And just as a side note, if you know someone who has experienced this loss, be sad with them. Don’t tell them how to fix the problem. Don’t try to push them to recover. Don’t send them a PowerPoint, or a video, or anything. Just.Be.Sad. Don’t say anything. Cry with them. Say that you can’t imagine what it feels like. Just mourn with them. One of the most powerful things that was said to me was (paraphrased), “Although I have never experienced this, I do know what it is like to love that child with everything you have the minute you find out you’re pregnant.”  It was written in a note to me, and I will never forget that.

-stepping off my soap box-


That’s a peak into what I’ve been dealing with since the beginning of May. And that is part of the reason why I haven’t blogged in so long.

I believe that there are some things that should be kept private, that don’t belong on social media. Between a husband a wife. Between a family. Between friends. But Sunday at church the pastor was talking about how we need each other for spiritual encouragement. And just last night I was telling my husband that I love hearing people’s testimonies. It encourages my faith, and it encourages others’ faith. I love stories of broken marriages that the Lord restores. I love the stories of addicts – of any kind – and how the Lord delivers. I love the stories of everyday “things” and hearing how the Lord is moving in their life.

I don’t want to keep my story a secret, in fear of being sad and emotions being raised to the surface again, if that is going to hinder someone else from healing. So I hope, and I pray, that my story and my life do nothing but encourage others in their faith. And that I lead a life of faith regardless of the circumstances as a witness to God’s goodness, and glory. But how am I going to lead that life if I don’t share my circumstances?

A week after our miscarriage, we found out we were possibly moving to Mansfield.

Needless to say, the past three months have been fast and furious.

Mother’s Day from a Different Perspective


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I’ve LOVED seeing all of the posts and pictures honoring mothers. Mothers really are special people, and are worth being recognized. 

But my heart hurts for those woman who have experienced the loss of a child, in utero or outside of utero. My heart hurts for the women who want children but for whatever reason, can’t have them. My heart hurts for those women who have children, but are the only parental figure. My heart hurts for those women who have children but whose children have chosen a path that is not how they were raised.
You don’t have to physically give birth to be a mother.
So for those of whom I’ve already mentioned, I feel it too. I feel the pain, and the loss. Knowing that something “should’ve been” but isn’t, is painful.
Thank God I have a relationship with someone who helps me sustain my faith. Thank God He has a plan for my life outside of babies. Thank God He is bigger than me. And thank God He is loving me through this day.

Field Day Deja-Vu

Well hello again blogging world…it’s been a while. Two months actually. Sorry for the leave of absence, but let’s just say that these past 4 weeks have been full of emotions and chaos and confusion and excitement…it’s been a roller coaster to say the least. Whenever I feel comfortable sharing with the world what has happened within the past 4 week, I will. But for now, for this post, I’m not talking about the past 4 weeks.

I’m talking about today.

Today was Field Day at school. About a week ago one of our PE teachers asked me to be in a dunking booth. You know – the one where students throw balls and you sit on this diving board type seat and if they hit the target you go plunging into a small pool full of chilling water??? Yeah, that one. I willingly volunteered for this because it immediately reminding of me something I experienced about three years ago.

Three years ago my husband and I went to Colorado to be leaders at a Young Life camp called Frontier Ranch. Anyway – the point of the camp is to lead students to Christ and experience Him in a way that is life changing. There are a couple talks each day, and the rest of the day is scheduled craziness and free time and fun. It’s insane. Wednesday is known as the “night that never ends” because it.never.ends. The talk in the evening is the “sin” talk. This is the night that the students are forced to self-reflect on their lives, and their choices, and their baggage and if they are living for Christ. Let’s just say it’s a very emotional night. After this talk, the whole camp turns into a Western theme, and there are carnival games where the students can earn tickets. The students then take these tickets and “buy” a pie to throw at their leader’s face. The students are so upset, and so full of emotions, that we let the students take it out on us. It’s an amazing picture, and act of selflessness. And although I hated being messy, it was totally worth it to let the girls that I led take out their anger on me. I was more than willing to be ‘that’ for them to work through their thoughts and feelings in order for them to come to realize that Christ is what they need.

Again, so when my PE teachers approached me and asked me to do this, I gladly said yes. There are so many times during the year that I am constantly on a student’s case – and pushing them – and challenging them. I gladly sat on that seat, and let them throw a ball at a target. And let me tell you, I was rocked. I got to the point that it was hard to breath. It was back to back to back. Don’t underestimate the arm of a 3rd grader…it’ll get you.

So, to these students, throw your little hearts out. You’re worth it.

dunk tank