Out of the twelve months of the year, I think that March and October are the two months that I dislike the most. Not that they are bad months, they are just months that bring to mind things that make me cry. And I do not like to cry (really, who does?). March 21 is when we lost our second child, Malachi. And the month of October, buried beneath all of the breast cancer awareness activities, is also Miscarriage and Infant Loss awareness month. While our family does have ties to breast cancer (my grandmother died from it), the second is the one that is closer to me.
Unlike other awareness months that try and raise money for research, Miscarriage and Infant Loss Awareness (in my mind at least) exists so that others can know that they are not alone in their pain. It is staggering to think that one in four pregnancies end in loss. Most of these are not even known, and many that are known are not shared on purpose because of the pain it brings. I am no stranger to that pain. Some years, the pain is so bad, that I live my life in a fog, blinded by the pain that creeps up into my heart. Other years aren't so bad, and there is light breaking that fog apart. I think it is different for everyone. But I think deep down inside we are all searching for that one thing that sometimes seems to elude us: peace.
Peace is such a wonderful thing to have, isn't it? When you have peace about a decision, your life is light and happy and carefree. But I write this today not because I haven't found that peace, but to tell you that I have come to terms that I DO have that peace...I just have to claim it. Daily. It is amazing what happens when I pray "Father, remind me of the peace You have given me." If you have not met the One who can give you that peace, I would be more than happy to share with you where I found my peace. If you have a hard time claiming that peace that God gave you, do not be discouraged. You are most certainly not alone.
I wonder sometimes if people get tired of me always posting my images that remind me of him. I want to say up front that I don't do it to get sympathy. No, I do it in hopes that someone, somewhere will see it and want to start a conversation. You see, when we lost Malachi, I asked God the question that I am pretty sure we all ask: why? Why would you take my baby from me before I even held him in my arms? Why would you put our family through this pain? Why would you give me a baby for 12 short weeks and then rip him out of my body? And here is what I learned. God does not have to have a reason why. He is God. End of story. But what I also learned is that I can take that pain and turn it around to be something good.
In my search to answer the why, I started a small support group, HOPE (Healing Our Pain and Enduring). I admit, it has not grown as much as my impatient mind wants it to grow, but the Lord has laid it on my heart to work on that. I want to be a light to those who need it, a friend to those who feel that no one understands. Maybe the answer to my why is "so you can be a blessing and encouragement to others". So that is my prayer. That is why I share my child with the world. Love is my why.