Weeks ago, Q and I excitedly spread the news to our friends, our family, and our village that we were expecting a sibling for Lucie. Although it was probably sooner than others might want to share the news, we wanted to be able to lean in on our community for better or worse, to be able to pray for the baby by name and to give thanks for the life growing inside. Our first little baby had been known as Sweet Pea, Lucie had been Sploot, and this new baby was known as Spud.
While Q has been away in Uganda, I miscarried our little Spud. The physical pain is only matched by the waves of heartache. How a baby can be so loved and be so unknown for just a few short weeks is a mystery of the heart. My heart further breaks for Q as I know he feels torn between the work he is doing and his desire to be home with us.
Just when the heartache threatens to smother out the sunlight, there is a breakthrough of love from our community that reminds me why we began celebrating this life so early. Our friends, our family, our village, they have experienced this loss along side us. Their calls, texts, emails all bring hope into the sadness. There is love in this season of loss and for that I am thankful.
In Ann Voskamp’s book One Thousand Gifts she writes on why it is important to acknowledge our blessings by name. “The naming,” she writes, “is how the first emptiness of space fills: the naming of light and land and sky. …naming offers the gift of recognition.” Weeks ago I was thankful for the courage to name Spud in spite of statistics that told me to hide him for 12 weeks. Today I am thankful for the comfort of loved ones in the face of loss. I am thankful for technology that connects my tender husband and myself so that we can grieve together while across the globe. I am busy naming things to be thankful for so that when the next wave of agony hits, my anchors will be deep in the riches He provides. There is no “bright side” to the loss of a baby but there is a deep well of hope and that is where I am trying to fix my eyes.