Four Pregnancies, Three Kids & Joy Complete

“You have three kids?”

I get this a lot, for a lot of different reasons. It comes less often as I get older, but it slips out of people’s mouthes more often than you’d think.

Yup! Three incredible boys that I would die for.

Four years ago, we took a punch to the gut. Instead of excitedly announcing to our friends and family that I was pregnant, we were grieving the loss of a little babe that never made it.

I was reminded of our loss and triumph today when I reread something I wrote to share our news with our friends. I remember it being one of the hardest times of our lives. Just standing up in church to sing felt like a battle.

But, we made it, and the Lord did something in us that changed everything.

Here’s the post in its entirety:


My son sleeps quietly tonight. He sleeps against his father’s chest, safely and soundly dreaming about wherever his mind takes him.

Within the past two weeks, I have been longing for these moments of my own. A moment to curl up in my Father’s arms, feeling safe and away from any form of fear or harm. A moment to breathe in deeply and rest. But for two weeks, I have been clawing for strength, praying for grace, hoping for truth to overcome doubt. For two weeks, I have been crying out to God for answers to questions that swirl in my soul, hoping for logical answers to overcome my lack of faith. I long for my Jesus to overcome my pain. 

About three weeks ago, God granted us with a new pregnancy. I was very early, hardly detectable by a pregnancy test. At first, I was a little afraid as the doubts creeped in, but joy overflowed and overcame it all. Another baby. Another life to love. Another joy to fill our hearts. But just as quickly as the good news came, so did the bad. My body was reacting differently. Something was wrong.

Two doctor appointments, one ultrasound later, and it was over.

I am so young. This body is so young,” was all I could think. How could I miscarry at a little over five weeks? How do I explain this? How could a tiny life, a life not yet lived, just be taken from us? A life that to some, wasn’t technically a life. How do I explain this? I don’t know how to talk about it. I don’t know how to grieve the loss of our child when it was hardly formed. I don’t know how to praise an unseen God in this. I don’t know.

But I do know that we grieve. We cry for peace at the knowledge of our loss, and we praise our God. Some days, I don’t know why. Some days, I do. I welcome the joy and relief that comes when I remember my God, my great Almighty holding our dear child in His hands. This baby has known no fear, has known no pain. My Father cradles our baby in His arms today, yesterday, and for all of eternity. I welcome the comfort that His peace brings.

My prayers and pleas are sometimes sorrowful. I have spent time wanting to throw bricks at God because of what happened. I have spent some days angry at everyone and everything, hoping that my anger would be considered righteous enough. But it wasn’t. It wasn’t enough to undo what was already done. Nothing I do will fix this. But each day, I pray for peace, for joy in the hard times, for patience in my anger, for strength in my weakness. I long for Jesus to make me whole once again. 

Friends, pray with us. This feels debilitating, yet I know it is not. We will overcome, just as hundreds of families before us. And as you think of us, think of the families before and after us who suffer this great loss. He will rebuild us. We will try again. And we will never lose sight of God.


Thank You Lord for keeping us. You changed our lives forever when we lost something we loved. You didn’t take from us. You didn’t steal any joy.

That little baby only knows Your arms. I don’t think it gets any better.

And then You gave us our own babies to hold, to care for, to disciple. Thank You Lord. You’ve never failed us.

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