Dear Friend~

I'm so sorry.

I'm sorry that you had maybe the wildest surprise of your life or maybe you had planned and hoped for this life. I'm sorry that joy filled your heart for a time and a thousand plans and dreams. I'm sorry that you mulled over names. I hate that overwhelming happiness threatened to overtake you and pure bliss. And then it was snatched away.

I'm sorry you lost your baby. And I don't mean I'm sorry in the way that most people say it - the way that only they can and they 100% will mean it in the right and good way, even if the words don't come out quite right. I mean it in the way that I know what you're going through because I've walked the path. As I sit here and cry tears for you and with you I know the heartbreak you are having to endure. I know the questions and whys and gosh, we were so excited.

I hate that you have to now add this "experience" to your journey called life - because no one should have to - but many have. Many that you will no doubt be aware of now for the rest of your life because you are forever changed.

Losing an unborn child is a loss like none other and demands grieving just like any other. So let yourself grieve. Let yourself cry and moan and be mad and shocked and any other other feeling that finds it way in. Work it over and then try as best you can to let it ride the same wave out, whenever you are ready. And no one gets to decide that for you.

Please know that there is nothing you did wrong. And that while that tiny child-sized hole in your heart never completely goes away, that it does somehow become easier to bear.

And God will take your grief and turn it over and over, and around, and ring it out like a soaking wet cloth and spill it onto those around you and in you for his glory. It's what He does and I have no idea how. Or how we continue to exist after times like these.

I wish in my heart of hearts that you never again have to go through the loss of your child, at any age. I wish that the fragility of life started once they were here and not before. I wish I could give you a hug right now and tell you that I understand and that it's horrible. But know that I will sit here and mourn with you, and praise our Father that He knows and loves us well. Beyond anything we can imagine, beyond the riches blessings we would hope to one day be ours. He loves us. In our pain, in our agony, in our lack of ability to control what's happening. I love you too.


And I'm sorry.