The Fourth

I thought having a baby would make it easier, this looming anniversary. I thought my having a baby to hold would ease the grief the month would hold. I thought burying my face among the soft folds of baby skin would make tears less toxic and the heart less bitter, so we conceived in July -- the first month we were able.

Despite prior struggles, we were hopeful. We'd figured out how to manipulate hormones to make it through the first trimester, and I'd been physically altered to overcome cervical incompetence. We felt physically triumphant, but we never, ever planned for the baby to just die. We had only a few weeks of expectation before the tiny heart we saw ceased its beating and the baby's body left mine for good.

Sweet pea, as your due date passes, we remember you and long for the day we'll see you face to face. And we're holding fast to Jesus, the One who carries us through the storm.

"You keep track of all my sorrows.
You have collected all my tears in your bottle.
You have recorded each one in your book."
Psalm 56:8

"So with you: Now is your time of grief,
but I will see you again and you will rejoice,
and no one will take away your joy."
John 16:22