These are the moments that have made up the last two months of our lives. As the Lord has taught us, I have been writing. It does me so much good to put into words what the Lord is teaching me or what I am feeling as we go. If at times it sounds like I'm preaching to you, it's more than likely not the case; but I had to write it to preach to myself. To have something to read and remind me of what this was like, when I feel as if I've made no progress at all, it helps me to read about the past. When I forget the goodness of the Lord, it helps me to read of his blessings.
If you'd like to read more about the story of our Hannah Grace click here.
And today, March 3rd, we are doing well. Better than I think I could have imagined, the Lord is by our side daily, but the following is from December...
December 26, 2014
It’s an interesting time being a mother without a baby. Interesting may not be the word, but I don’t always have the words anymore to describe what’s going on, what I’m feeling, what this entire experience has been like.
For the past 10 months I have looked in the mirror constantly. I watched as my belly formed and grew and I could not have been more proud. I watched as the scale went up and I watched as the stretch marks began to appear. I can’t tell you I was the most excited about the weight and the stretch marks. I had tried my best to gain the ‘correct’ amount of weight; I had applied the lotions and the creams to avoid the stretch marks. But the weight came and I neared two hundred pounds. The stretch marks came and grew. In the last few weeks very new stretch marks appeared for the first time on my stomach. I touched them in disbelief, but understood the cost we pay for our babies as women. It was worth it.
But when the time came for our baby, the Lord had other plans. Our sweet girl died in the womb at 40 weeks. The day after I finished the nursery, the day we bought her baby book, there was a knot in her umbilical cord that no one knew about. Thursday she was fine, Sunday her heart beat no more. My stretch marks did not earn me a baby…
We came home empty-handed. We returned to our home and my body was worn. I birthed our sweet girl, I had stitches, I had lost blood. I had very little sleep. I walked into our bathroom and I looked in the very same mirror through which I had gazed each of the 40 weeks.
And then I saw my stretch marks.
There they were, and I could touch them. When my baby was out of reach, I could touch the marks she left me with. I could feel them when I could not feel anything else but pain. The Lord truly saved us, brought us hope when we had none, gave us peace when we did not have understanding, reminded us of our joy when tears were great. And as I looked in the mirror I realized that my stretch marks were a gift from the Lord.
I love my stretch marks. They tell the world that although I don’t have my baby, I am a mother. Although our sweet girl never called me ‘mom’ that I carried her, I took care of her, I loved her, and I’m still her mother. They are the mark of a mother, and when I start to forget or when I wish I could touch her I look through that mirror and I remember, I reach down and I can touch the marks she left me.
If you'd like to read more about the story of our Hannah Grace click here.
And today, March 3rd, we are doing well. Better than I think I could have imagined, the Lord is by our side daily, but the following is from December...
December 26, 2014
It’s an interesting time being a mother without a baby. Interesting may not be the word, but I don’t always have the words anymore to describe what’s going on, what I’m feeling, what this entire experience has been like.
For the past 10 months I have looked in the mirror constantly. I watched as my belly formed and grew and I could not have been more proud. I watched as the scale went up and I watched as the stretch marks began to appear. I can’t tell you I was the most excited about the weight and the stretch marks. I had tried my best to gain the ‘correct’ amount of weight; I had applied the lotions and the creams to avoid the stretch marks. But the weight came and I neared two hundred pounds. The stretch marks came and grew. In the last few weeks very new stretch marks appeared for the first time on my stomach. I touched them in disbelief, but understood the cost we pay for our babies as women. It was worth it.
But when the time came for our baby, the Lord had other plans. Our sweet girl died in the womb at 40 weeks. The day after I finished the nursery, the day we bought her baby book, there was a knot in her umbilical cord that no one knew about. Thursday she was fine, Sunday her heart beat no more. My stretch marks did not earn me a baby…
We came home empty-handed. We returned to our home and my body was worn. I birthed our sweet girl, I had stitches, I had lost blood. I had very little sleep. I walked into our bathroom and I looked in the very same mirror through which I had gazed each of the 40 weeks.
And then I saw my stretch marks.
There they were, and I could touch them. When my baby was out of reach, I could touch the marks she left me with. I could feel them when I could not feel anything else but pain. The Lord truly saved us, brought us hope when we had none, gave us peace when we did not have understanding, reminded us of our joy when tears were great. And as I looked in the mirror I realized that my stretch marks were a gift from the Lord.
I love my stretch marks. They tell the world that although I don’t have my baby, I am a mother. Although our sweet girl never called me ‘mom’ that I carried her, I took care of her, I loved her, and I’m still her mother. They are the mark of a mother, and when I start to forget or when I wish I could touch her I look through that mirror and I remember, I reach down and I can touch the marks she left me.
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