October 15th is always one of the hardest days of the year for me. It is Pregnancy and Infancy Loss Remembrance Day. I am reminded today of all the sweet little lives who met Jesus long before any of their families imagined they would.
I always wanted to be a mom. I always thought I would have a lot of kids - at least 5 I would tell people when I was little. The life I envisioned for myself is not the life God has ordained for me. It has been so painful for me and something I still struggle to understand. I still remember each pregnancy test, the excitement and terror, and the dreams of what life would be like with a new baby. I'll never know what that life would be like. Occasionally, I will have a day where the grief of so much loss overwhelms me.
I know in my heart though, that doubting God's plan and letting grief steal my joy is exactly what satan wants me to do. At one point, I thought the grief would destroy me. I had no place to put my loss. I had no baby, and, yet, I had no grave site to visit. One day I had a pregnancy test with two lines, and seemingly the next a whirlwind of ultrasounds and doctor appointments telling me there was no longer life where there once was. It is the strangest kind of grief - nothing tangible to hold onto, just the memories of what we thought would be.
I always think of that verse - "weeping may last for a night, but joy comes in the morning." As painful as this part of my life has been, out of it has come my greatest sources of joy. God gave me the most perfect little girl, and I still melt when I look at her sweet face. I still get choked up when I look at her, and think about God's goodness in my life. The miracle of her. The goodness of women placed in my life who have walked this road before me, and had much greater burdens than I. The sweet joy of being a parent. The goodness of the reality of heaven, and the glorious reunion we have to look forward to someday.
God is so good. Even in the hard things, He is good.