Miscarriage

My friends, last week my husband and I received the joyous news that we were pregnant again.

We were excited and terrified. We had decided earlier this year that our family was complete, so we sold all of our baby and maternity stuff. When we found out the news, we giddily thought of all the things we needed in just 9 short months. 

A month ago, we confessed to each other, that despite our having sold all of our baby possessions, and the fact that all bedrooms in our home are filled already, we both longed for another baby. 

Fast forward to last week. We couldn't believe that we had gotten pregnant that fast. It must have been in God's plan for us since we got pregnant so quickly. I, of course, was worried because we've had four miscarriages, but for some reason, I felt good about this pregnancy. 

Last night, we lost the baby. 

I couldn't even tell Josh. I gave him "the look" and almost burst into tears. I holed up in the bedroom the rest of the night. 

Guilt consumed me. My body failed my baby and I was the sole reason my husband's heart was broken. 

Me. 

I'm the only one responsible. 

Of course I know I did nothing wrong. I know that it was out of my control. 

But was it?

I chose to chance this heart break. I convinced my husband that everything would be fine. 

I lied. 

He was angry. 

Not because he's a douchebag, but because he had to feel. Feeling isn't his forte, and he had lots of feels last night. I was broken and he was broken and he couldn't fix either of us. So all he could feel was anger. 

Of course I was angry at him for being angry. 

But then, something beautiful happened. 

I prayed for peace for both of us. 

I couldn't pray for anything else really. 

Suddenly, the situation was put in perspective and I was able to see Josh's side of things. 

When a pregnant woman miscarries, everyone is sad for her and worried for her, as they damn well ought to be. 

However, people forget that the husband loses a child as well. He is most often forgotten and pushed to the side. 

His heart is broken, yet he has to "remain strong" for his wife as he helps her body heal. He has to cheer her up while he's dying a little inside. 

I was being selfish last night. I expected total sympathy and comfort from him, but wasn't willing to return it. 

I was floored at this revelation. 

I sent him a text because I couldn't talk without crying. 

I told him I loved him and that I would help him through this however he needed me to. 

About an hour later he came in and we just held each other. We said nothing. 

He needed to be remembered.

 He needed to be comforted. 

Men like to be strong, but no one expects them to be strong when they lose a child. 

As for me, I have my moments where I mourn for what could have been here on earth. 

But you know what? My baby never had to live in this broken world. 

He or she got to go straight to a Perfect world. 

How amazing is that?

Please keep us in your prayers as we heal. 

Thanks, y'all.