When I came home yesterday my husband said, “You have to read Katherine’s blog.” Yes, I now have my husband following blogs. I wasn’t sure what to expect, but as I started reading my heart fell and a great sadness overcame me as I realized that she was referencing her sister, Rachel Anne. Rachel Anne is the author of Home Sanctuary, a blog that I would love to follow on a more regular basis if I didn’t have my daily life of work, husband, child, house, church, and on and on.

In Rachel Anne’s most recent posting, she pours out her heart as she shares with her audience her pain of a previous miscarriage and the joy of finding out that she and her husband will be blessed to again experience having a child later in life. My heart ached for her and her family as she talks about her latest sadness. As you may know, last spring Joe and I experienced our third, yes third, miscarriage.

I never shared the complete story, but reading Rachel Anne’s posts as she opened up her life and exposed her pain and healing from her first miscarriage has inspired me to write a little bit about our experience in the hopes that others will take heart and know that faith is not something you automatically have, but something that takes time to grow and many times can be tested.

After our son was born (I call him Colt on this blog), we believed that he would be our one and only seeing that I was pushing 40 and Joe was close behind in age (yes, I married a younger man and I love him for it!). To share even more, I surprised my entire family when I told them I was pregnant because growing up I was firm that “there would be no grand kids from me.” But after a loving marriage and God working on my heart, I was open to the possibility of having children and within a few months of trying, we found out we were going to have a child.

I remember walking around our neighborhood in late August 2005 discussing how our lives would change. And that evening, our lives did change. I started bleeding and with deep dread in my heart , I called the doctor the next morning. After a sonogram, my worst fears were confirmed. After only 6 weeks, we had lost our child. Oh the pain, the questions, the doubt. How could God open me up to wanting a child then let our precious child be taken away so quickly?

Our friends and family shared our loss and grieved with us, praying that God would again bless us with the opportunity to become parents. I will tell you that our doctor said to wait at a couple of months before trying again, but since neither one of us were familiar with ovulation cycles and we are still very much in love, much to our surprise (and our doctor’s) we found out were pregnant the very next month!

This time we hesitated before telling everyone. We just couldn’t go through the pain of hearing everyone offer their sympathy if something were to happen again. After 7 weeks, we had a doctor’s appointment and with relief, saw the baby’s heartbeat for the very first time. We took our “picture” with us that evening as we went to a dinner party at a friend’s house. How exciting to share the good news with people! Joy and relief filled our hearts as we planned and dreamed about this new child. But later in the evening I went to the bathroom and my heart dropped as I started bleeding once again.

I couldn’t even face our friends as Joe and I left the party. On our friend’s sidewalk leading to their front door, Joe wrapped his arms around me and held me as I cried so hard that my body shook. The agony of waiting until Monday morning (the party was on a Friday evening) to find out that again, we had another miscarriage and lost another child was almost more that I could take. To say that my faith was wavering does not even begin to put into words the pain and anger that I felt.

I will stop here for now and save our celebration story for my next post.