These last two days have been okay. I’ve been praying hard for God to give me grace and He has given it. It doesn’t mean that everything is fine or that I haven’t continued to cry and grieve, but He has been faithful.

It is hard. It may always be hard in some sense. This morning Nathan lifted my shirt so he could kiss the baby and I immediately started crying and had to try to explain to him that the baby was in heaven with Jesus. Hard for an almost-two year old to understand.

Hard for a twenty-seven year old to understand.

I have heard from so many of you and I’m so thankful for each and every one of your emails and messages. My heart breaks for every one of you who have been here before. Know I am praying for you constantly.

The more I’ve read on the subject of miscarriage, the sadder I get. The odds are one in four pregnancies will end in a miscarriage, particularly in an early miscarriage. One in four. How many millions of parents are out there struggling right now? How many families are heart broken? And how many of them are trying to make sense of it without the knowledge of Jesus or heaven?

It makes my heart ache.

We have been attempting to fill the days with activities to give ourselves a little distraction from all of this. Sometimes it works. Sometimes it doesn’t. We went to a baseball game last night – there is a minor league team in town. Nathan was in heaven – particularly when they started shooting off fireworks after the game. That’s all I’ve heard today. “Beeball? Yay! Wywort? Boom!”

He also had his very first swim lesson yesterday. He did pretty good, but since he was in Gammy and Pops’ pool, he had a hard time grasping that he wasn’t there to play. Afterward, Jamie brought mini ice cream sandwiches for everyone:

Life goes on. Sometimes I have a hard time even with this fact – I want everything to stop until I have come to grips with it and then carry on. I have had my eyes opened though to the amazing miracles around me – my son. My husband. My Savior. My parents and siblings. My in-laws. My wonderful friends.

We are loved. Our house smells like a florist shop. I know my baby – even though their life on earth was so very short – was cherished and loved. That means the world to me.