Goodbye, baby girl

"And who's to say which is more incredible—a man who raises the dead … or a God who weeps?" -Ken Gire

Six weeks ago our plans for this weekend centered on a gender-reveal/Labor Day BBQ in our backyard.  A celebration with friends.   We would be 19 weeks pregnant. 

Instead, today we said goodbye to our baby girl.  Five weeks ago at a routine ultrasound we learned that our baby had no heartbeat.   Given her measurements, she likely passed two weeks prior, inexplicably.   We were devastated.  Heartbroken. Undone.

The grief has been intense and bewildering.   Unlike anything I’ve ever experienced.  This little life, so full of promise and innocence and hope…just snatched away.  Leaving everything feeling so empty.  So dark.  And today, that is really all the words I have to describe it.  I hope one day I’m better equipped to share that experience.  Because, as I’ve learned, miscarriage is far more common than we know.  We were so far along that we had no choice but to share the experience with our friends and family.  And we have been so grateful for their love and support. But I fear many women (& their partners) are far more alone in their grief. 

This morning Jake and I decided to have a small service together at Forest Park.  We chose a quiet, green clearing, surrounded by trees.  We read Psalm 139, prayed together, cried together and released a single purple balloon into the sunny sky.  Our prayer was that it would honor & celebrate our daughter’s short life and that it would glorify her Creator, Whom we believe is holding her now.  He is a good Father. 

Sweet Grace,

Despite having never held you in our arms, you had such a hold on our hearts.  You, my dear, are so loved.  We prayed for you; we planned for you; and we thank God, even now, for each day we had with you.  You were eagerly awaited and already loved by so many.   We miss you every day. 

But through our tears, sweet Grace, we give thanks.  Thanks that you are held in strong and worthy arms, now.  That Heaven is all you’ll ever know.  Thanks that we can rest in the promise that one day every tear will be wiped away and all things—suffering, death, brokenness—will be made right.   Thanks that your very name will remind us of the boundless provision and sweet redemption of God.

Today, baby girl, we entrust you to the Lord, who knows you and loves you far more than we ever could.  And this, our prayer for you:

“For you formed [her] inward parts;

you knitted [her] together in [her] mother’s womb.

I praise you Lord for [she] is fearfully and wonderfully made. 

Wonderful are your works; my soul knows it very well. 

[Her] frame was not hidden from you,

when [she] was being made in secret,

intricately woven in the depths of the earth.

Your eyes saw [her] unformed substance;

In your book were written, every one of them,

the days that were formed for [her],

when as yet there were none.”  Psalm 139: 13-16

Fly to the Father, baby girl.  

We will see you soon.