There are times in life when your heart goes a little bit quiet, still and almost numb. Those parts that we can’t quite face, because we know we must walk through the grief, hurt or journey to forgiveness.

This summer Matt and I walked through something that I never thought we would face. We lost a sweet little babe. It brings tears to my eyes just to write that sentence, the dreams that were wrapped into that little beating heart. The wonder, the hope. The excitement, and the fears. The anticipation of finally meeting someone we had talked about since before we ever started having babies. Our third baby. Matt and I are both third babies, and I have always looked so forward to meeting our third baby. I don’t know why, all the silly things that made me dream about this baby for so long… when we lost this baby, something in my heart broke so hard. I felt so lonely, so sad, so at a loss of how to even process what had happened.

A positive pregnancy test had always meant a baby to hold in my arms… and the moment the bleeding started,  I knew it wasn’t going to be ok.

I remember sitting on the other end of the phone line, listening to the doctor say the words I already knew to be true in my heart… “So, I am really sorry to say, it looks like you have lost the baby.” All I could manage to say was “Ok.”

I wanted to scream at my body… to be on my team, to grow a healthy baby and just be safe.

What do you do with those dreams and hopes. What do you do with the joy that you couldn’t wait to share. With your family, with all the people who uttered the question “Do you think you’ll have more kids?” With your 2 sweet boys who couldn’t stop talking about our one day baby… “Mama, when will you have a baby in your tummy? When will our baby come?”

Suddenly it is replaced with so much sadness. I don’t know how else to describe it… the heaviness of my heart. I just couldn’t bring myself to even talk about the baby, because words just wouldn’t come.

Oh how I love you my baby. I’m so sad I didn’t get to hold you, or kiss your head. My heart longed for you before you were ever conceived, and I will always be your mama.

A month went by and I started to heal, and I thought my heart was going to be ok. And then the midwife phoned to say they had an opening on the wait list. And I listened. And nothing. And then I went to tell Matt, and my little heart broke into a puddle of tears. Why did this happen. What went wrong… why did this have to be different. Why did we even get pregnant only to lose the baby.

And then one day, we had another positive pregnancy test. And all I could do was cry. And, I felt horrible that that was my first response, but I was afraid to hope for this little life… because how could I. And each phase, each little mile stone… the first detection of the heart beat, the ultrasound, being so sick… could I really begin to believe that we would meet a baby at the end of this. It felt so soon. Too soon for my heart.

As I sit with this little baby growing in my belly, the mystery of this life feels so great. It is so strange to think that we would never know this baby if we hadn’t lost our third. The would be due date, Feb. 8. I can’t help but wonder what it would be like to be preparing for a baby any day.

Losing a baby  is a strange thing. So many people instantly talk about how common it is to lose a baby. And I understand it is… but it wasn’t common for me. I feel like there is a piece of our family missing. It has felt so difficult to talk about… and it doesn’t do my heart well to have this loss brushed aside, so I guess I just don’t say anything. When I was 9 my mom lost a baby. It was over Easter, and he was going to be my baby, my birthday month baby. I just mourned the loss of that baby so hard. They named that little baby Samuel.

When we told the boys that I was pregnant this time, Gabriel said something to me shortly after. “Mama, this is a girl baby, just like our other girl baby.” And I just couldn’t describe what happened in my heart. How did he know we had another baby? We haven’t told the boys that I miscarried, it just felt too confusing at the time. Matt and I both felt the baby had been a girl… and while I don’t know who this little one I am carrying is, I felt that God gave me a little piece in knowing our third baby. He spoke through Gabriel that morning.

As I feel fluttering kicks in my belly, my heart is finally beginning to hope once again. I don’t understand all of the mysteries of life, the sorrows and the loss… I don’t know how my heart can break so many times, yet somehow be mended. But I know that today, I am beginning to hope again.

-Miss Ash


3 thoughts on “Begin to Hope”

  1. My sweet friend, thank you for writing this post. I wish I didn’t but I can so relate. Your family was such a source of support for us when I miscarried our first wee babe and we will never forget that. I read a quote once that resonated in me ‘Grief never ends… but it changes. It’s a passage, not a place to stay. Grief is not a sign of weakness, nor a lack of faith… its the price of love.” I think this is especially true for Mamma’s hearts for their children. Praying this journey brings more and more hope every day. Lots of love xoxox

  2. oh mizz ashley…

    thank you for sharing the loss of your precious little one on your post…so much love and pain, it is heart breaking to read your words…

    i was at the hospital, with your mom, the day she lost baby Samuel…

    i will keep you and your sweet family in my heart and prayers

    i love you always…

    mizz deborah xo

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