This week is filled with anniversaries.
Eric and I will celebrate 12 years of marriage. Twelve years ago we made it to our honeymoon spot in time to watch the second half of the Super Bowl. Many times since then, Eric has stated how grateful he is that I love football. In fact, the NFC title game is on in the background as I draft this.
Some days it definitely doesn't feel look I'm old enough to have been married that long. But I am grateful that God brought this girl from Nebraska and boy from Indiana together in Colorado ah so many years ago at Summit Ministries. It is something only God could have orchestrated.
Then this is the week of remembering the worst week of my life last year. I spent this week last year waiting to miscarry, praying that somehow the doctor was wrong, and then recovering from the D&C.
Even now, as I feel this baby kick away, I long for the baby I never got to hold. The one that I don't even know if it was a boy or a girl. It's amazing how real the grief can be for someone you never knew. And how lonely that grief can be. It's the silent loss and silent grief. If I don't bring it up, no one will remember. And yet I am still very raw.
I am delighted to be pregnant again, and to be quickly approaching the magic week where this baby will be safe and completely viable on his or her own. But I will never forget teh baby that I never got to hold and love on.
So if you know a woman who has miscarried, don't think that she's over it by the first anniversary. Send her a simple little note to let her know that you remember with her. And even though you may not feel the depth of grief that she does, that you care about her enough to remember with her and value what she values.
I can just about guarantee that will be very meaningful to her.