Tag Archives: memories

Six years

Dates are important to me. I keep a running list of anniversaries in my Google Calendar. It’s the easiest way to keep track of them for me. I just set it on repeat and have it never end. We have the usual suspects – wedding anniversary and birthdays, but I also have the day we bought our house and the day we got our first car together. And then there are the other anniversaries. The ones that are connected to my pregnancy loss.

Two of those anniversaries happen this month. And this week, my calendar reminded me of one. The very first time I saw a positive pregnancy test. The pregnancy that ended in an early miscarriage. I remember where I was and what I felt as that small little square turned into a plus sign. I remember looking at it over and over again, just making sure I wasn’t seeing things.

After I had the miscarriage, so many women told me their own stories. These memories remind about how strong these women are. Most of them carry their stories silently for years. How isolating it can feel! I remember how this spurred me on to write more openly about my own experiences. I wanted to help others not feel alone and remind them that they are full of God-given worth and value.

All of this started in March of 2013, 6 years ago. I had no idea, staring at that little plus sign, just what was in store for me. Through every up and down, I’m so thankful for God, my family, and this community who have walked with me every step of the way.


memories.jpgToday, Facebook will remind me of when I went to the hospital to confirm that our daughter had passed.  Facebook will remind me of how I numbly pulled out my laptop and typed words on a screen.  Facebook will remind me of how I got back onto the familiar road of grief one year ago.


I know that you can remove memory reminders on Facebook.  You can remove whole chunks of time if you want to.  But I don’t want to.  I want to remember the sweet nurse that kept hope for us as each medical device came back negative for a heartbeat.  I want to remember how the moment the ultrasound confirmed our worst fears, my OB turned around and created a new game plan.  If her sleeves weren’t already rolled up, I know she would have in that moment.  I want to remember my talk with Jesus, how I re-engaged my stubborn and desperate love in the middle of chaotic grief.

I thought I would be pregnant by now, though.  I hoped I would be, that maybe a new pregnancy would lessen the blow of grief that this week will bring.  But I do have my husband, God, friends, family.  And I’m so thankful that God has created these hedges of protection during one of the dark moments in my history.

God is good.  All the time.  Even in the darkened sad moments.  Especially then.