All Four One


Dear Mama

Dear Husband: On Father’s Day


There was a time when our babies were just dreams, when our plans were unmarked by tragedy. We thought about parenthood as something magical and wonderful and hard, but mostly happy. We imagined our children, in our arms, in our home, in our life. I never thought I’d meet and marry a man who wants to be a parent as much as I do.

You have been my rock these past three years. You are so strong and your steadiness continually reminds me to fix my eyes on Jesus, to trust in God’s promises and to believe that He has a plan for our life together. I am so thankful that you get me, you understand my heartache and my yearning to be a mother.

Father’s Day is a hard day for me because you are such a wonderful father, and I want to see you raise a child. I want to see you hold our child and play with our child and snuggle our child. I want to see you read them stories and teach them the alphabet and help them with math homework (because God knows I will be useless in that subject).

If anything these past three years have proven to me that you are the best father for my children, the best partner for me in parenting. I see the babies we’ve lost so clearly and I wish we could have held them, but – my darling husband- you are the greatest father I know and I can’t wait to parent with you…someday, any day, any time God decides to give us our children.


Dear Mama: A Note On Your Baby’s Due Date

Dear Mama,

If you are anything like me, there is a day that passes each that is a cruel reminder of what you’ve lost. This is the third spring that I am feeling cheated. I should be preparing for a new precious baby and instead I am aching.

My pregnancies all happened around the same time, three summers in a row, so my due dates are all around the same time. March 30, 2014, May 14, 2015 and April 18, 2016. The days my babies should have come.

I keep hoping the pain will lessen. I keep thinking I should be used to it, or that I should forget. Why are those days so engrained in my memory?

I don’t have answers. I do have hope. I have a God who is close to me in times of weeping, he’s close to me in my doubts, he’s close to me and he loves me and comforts me, he weeps with me.

And so dear mama, I wrote this down. Not because I want to preach or because I want pity but because sometimes on the hard days I feel so alone and I’m guessing you do too. I want you to know that you are not alone.  We are not alone.

Dear Mama…

Dear Mama,

I am so sorry to welcome you to this sisterhood. It is a club you never want to join. Days or weeks or maybe even months ago you were sitting in your home looking at an at home pregnancy test, or sitting in a doctor’s office hearing the good news and you were happy, and now you find yourself here. Maybe you are hoping for answers, I’m sure you are looking for comfort and I am here to say, no one should go through this, I’ve been where you are, in fact I am where you are for the third time in two years. 

I can’t tell you what you are feeling but I can tell you to let yourself feel it. Sadness, anger, pain, frustration, hope, hopelessness, all of it. It takes time. Lots of people are going to tell you lots of things (if you decide to share your grief). Know that they are trying to help, know that you can take it or leave it, know that you get to guide your journey through this. 

My dear you are a mama. For however long that little life grew in your womb it made you a mama. Over the next weeks or months or maybe even years you are going to go through lots of thoughts and feelings and I hope you have people you can talk to about it. If you don’t (or even if you do) I am here. These pages will be filled with my story, with my days and my feelings, my ups and downs and maybe (eventually) your stories too. 

This is a place of support, of love, of sisterhood. One in four pregnancies end in a loss (miscarriage or stillbirth), here we can support all those “ones”. I am one in four, and I am here for you. 

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