Last year on this day, July 6, I wrote at length about our first miscarriage. It was really the first time I'd blogged in detail about a specific loss, and I distinctly remember how painful it was and yet how it felt good and right to remember and to share that baby's story.
I'm not going to recap that entire post (you can read it here if you'd like), but today is the anniversary of our first miscarriage. Eight years ago we had a very different 4th of July weekend. We waited, worried, and tried to distract ourselves from what was happening. We focused our energies on working in our new house and tried to believe that there would one day be children living here, too. Our children. We just needed more time. We needed to mourn and to heal. A lot of women miscarry their first babies, I'd been told. Although it feels devastating, it's not uncommon. It doesn't mean we have a problem. We will have another baby soon.
If you read this blog, then you already know the rest of the story. That first loss nearly ripped me apart. It took me by surprise. Miscarriage was suddenly part of my life and not just something sad I'd heard about that happened to other people. Aside from the awful physical experience I had, I really didn't know then just how painful it would be emotionally. And I certainly had no idea that it was the beginning of a long struggle that would forever change who I was and how I looked at life. That's where I was eight years ago at this time.
For years I've read those "then and now" posts from other bloggers and I've always been intrigued and touched by them. So much can change in a year. God can accomplish huge tasks in a relatively short amount of time. A year can change the entire course of a life! I believed that, but it hadn't happened to me. The years were adding up and not a single thing had changed, except the number of babies I'd had to release to heaven, my gradual spiral into despair and depression, and the hardening of my heart. These were issues I was working on. I was desperately trying to work out a new direction for myself and trying to find contentment in my life whether we would have children or not. That's where I was last year at this time.
Now, I can't help but look at the changes that this year has brought. This 4th of July holiday, like the one eight years ago, finds us waiting again. Waiting for a baby to be born, but this time, to stay and to hold in our arms. It finds me sleeping fitfully. Sleeping fitfully, again because of pregnancy, but in an entirely different way. And it finds us working in the same house we had just moved into that weekend years ago, but this time as necessary preparations and in anticipation of a new arrival instead of a distraction from the pain of having to say goodbye.
Yes, a lot can change in a year. But sometimes it may take much, much longer. Either way, to God be the glory! I'm thanking Him today for bringing about a huge change in my life, my heart, and my body.
And while the change is greatly welcomed, we still remember our first miracle baby who has now been in heaven for eight years.
We love you so much, little one.