A week ago today, I began to face the possibility, now realized, that my seventh child would not be born into this world. As anyone might expect, I was scared. I prayed. I begged God to keep his hand on my little one -- to keep him safe. I began to dread confirmation of what, somewhere in my heart, I already knew: the life I had carried inside me was gone. But even as scared as I was of what was to come, there was a stillness inside of me. I knew that regardless of the medical outcome of the pregnancy, my little one was in God's hands, as was I. In the stillness, gratitude became my strength.
I am so grateful for my family. I have a wonderful husband who loves and provides for me and for our children. I have six beautiful, healthy sons who make me crazy, and bring me such joy. I have an extended family that has always encouraged, supported, and loved me, even when I have worked at being unlovable.
I am so grateful for all the women in my life who have had miscarriages, and have been so generous with their support. They have not tried to explain, distract, or comfort. They have simply acknowledged, and let their own silent triumph be my encouragement.
I am so grateful for kind words from sincere hearts.
I am so grateful that medically, this loss was a simple one: early, uncomplicated, and without cause to fear future complications.
I am so grateful that in all the ways this could have been worse, it wasn't.
I am so grateful that the sun is shining today.
No storm can shake my inmost calm
While to that rock I'm clinging
Since Christ is Lord of Heav'n and earth
How can I keep from singing?
I am so grateful.