While I am still at peace and know there is nothing I could have done about my miscarriage, I’m seeing pregnant people everywhere or stumbling across their blogs where they describe pregnancy stuff…and it stabs me in the heart.

While at Best Buy on Friday I was watching Mark and Brother-In-Law play Rock Band when a pregnant woman, probably 5-6 months, was looking at products near by and I had to walk away to keep from crying in the store. It hurts, yall.  It hurts to be reminded that right now I would be near or in my 4th month, about to find out the gender of my baby.  Summer was supposed to be about a cute little belly in a bathing suit, feeling the tiny flutters for the first time, and finally getting that long awaited ultrasound appointment to know whether we would have a boy or girl.

It doesn’t affect me all the time because for the most part I am doing really well and know that things happen for a reason, but sometimes the emotions do hit at weird times.  I can see a pregnant lady at church and not be affected, but the next day I may be. The feelings of a miscarriage totally remind me adoption feelings. The emptiness at times. The sadness that the dreams you had won’t be lived out with you, but some where else, whether with new parents or in Heaven. And yet similarly, the grief cycle has been the same as well but at an accelerated rate either because my pregnancy was much shorter this time or because I’ve been through grief a million times before and know what to do: turn to God.

I am closer to God than ever right now and I’m thankful. My feet are on solid ground, but sometimes God just has to hold me up a little more.  And as I say a prayer for my babies to hear, to know they will always be in my heart, I’m reminded they are well taken care of (as is Kaylee) and one day…I will get to hold them and know who they are forever.