In the last year especially, as I have lost two babies to miscarriage, I have processed my grief largely through writing liturgies. I wrote the following on July 13, and I want to share it with you today, as this month is Infant Loss Awareness Month.
Two babies lost, so much love gained
Two babies lost within these last seven months.
Two roads, full of dreams.
Two names, picked out.
Two tiny bodies whose hearts did not beat outside my body.
Two pregnancy tests in a memory box.
Two due dates to mourn.
So many days to live until I meet you.
Two souls, in two perfect bodies – running, jumping, playing with the King, with each other, with their older brother and great-grandmothers.
So many broken hearts, grieving with me.
So many flowers – one rose, the first bloom.
So many prayers, still continuing.
So many hours of waiting and wondering, hoping and despairing, mourning and dancing.
So many friends – as close as family – saying,
“I don’t have words to say, except I am so so sorry.”
“This isn’t how it was meant to be.”
“I have enough faith for us both. You can borrow some of mine.”
“I’m believing in God’s goodness for you.”
“This is so shitty.”
So many hugs and tears and hands held.
So many questions asked, giving me the freedom to talk, freedom to cry and complain and blame.
To my family:
When you came over unannounced with water and a rose and cried with me and shared your stories of loss with me, you were Jesus to me.
When you took my kids all day so I could cry and bleed in peace, you were Jesus to me.
When you cried with me and held me, you were Jesus to me.
When you changed your plans to be physically near me and cooked us so much food, you were Jesus to me.
When you kept reaching out and asking how I was doing even when I wasn’t answering your texts, you were Jesus to me.
When you use their names – Samuel, Hosea, and Florence – you’re being Jesus to me.
When you sent me verses and songs and gifts of remembrance, you were Jesus to me.
When you brought me dinner and chocolate and those amazing non-gourmet cookies (that I most certainly did not share with my kids), you were Jesus to me.
When you got me that necklace representing each of my children (my babies in Heaven and on earth), you were Jesus to me.
To my King:
You delight in using people to show Your love. You have been so near to me, often using what I can see, hear, and touch. May You be glorified in this season of suffering. I trust you.
“For I was hungry and you gave me food, I was thirsty and you gave me drink, I was a stranger and you welcomed me, I was naked and you clothed me, I was sick and you visited me, I was in prison and you came to me.’ Then the righteous will answer him, saying, ‘Lord, when did we see you hungry and feed you, or thirsty and give you drink? And when did we see you a stranger and welcome you, or naked and clothe you? And when did we see you sick or in prison and visit you?’ And the King will answer them, ‘Truly, I say to you, as you did it to one of the least of these my brothers, you did it to me.’”
(Matthew 25:35-40)
If you are remembering babies that you have lost this month, I urge you to draw near to our King. He is kind, and He is with you. It is such a step of faith to engage with Him in the sorrow and anger, I know. But He is gentle and longing for you. Sometimes, I didn’t even know what to say, but I would intentionally still my heart and sit in His presence. He is your Father, sweet sister, and He wants to comfort you as such.
If you have a friend who is experiencing loss, draw near to her, even if she pushes away. She may not want to talk, but ask her questions just in case she’s longing to talk about it and everyone else is trying to be respectful and not bring up the baby. Also, use the baby’s name, if she gave one. She may not answer the phone, but show up with chocolate just in case she really needs a hug and a treat. Write her a note, even if she’s not a “note person” because she might read it over and over. She needs you to be Jesus to her, even if you don’t know how. Jesus will use your hands and feet and willing heart, and He will get the glory.
Words That Have Helped Me
Books that have helped me in writing/praying liturgies and laments:
- Dark Clouds: Deep Mercy by Mark Vroegop
3. Every Moment Holy, Volume 2 by Douglas Kaine McKelvey
Read another helpful article by Sarah titled, What if there is no Rainbow Baby?
Infant Loss Awareness Month
If you have experienced the loss of a baby (or child), know what we have prayed over those that will read this post. We encourage you to draw close to and cry out to the Lord.
If you’d like specific prayer for your loss, reach out on Facebook here or on Instagram.
Beautiful Sarah <3