I wrote the title of this post and then realized it’s not entirely true. The title makes it sound like I’m completely healed. It makes it sound like I don’t hurt anymore or like I don’t still grieve the babies I never got  to hold or the dreams that never came to pass.

The reality of my situation is that I’m not completely healed. I’m a different person than I was before our miscarriages. I’m not blissfully naive anymore. I no longer believe that God is going to fix everything for those who follow him. I still wish my story was different. I wish God would have given me a rainbow baby. It still stings a little when I see a pregnant woman or a newborn baby.

But, even though I’m not completely healed, I am SO much more healed now than I was five years ago. 

God has been doing some big work in my heart…healing the broken places, filling in those parts of me that felt so empty for such a long time, and slowly making me new again.

One thing He has been teaching me is that healing doesn’t happen all at once. It’s a process. And, it’s not a “one and done” kind of thing either. You don’t wake up one day healed. 

It’s more like a “2 steps forward, 1 step back” kind of thing.

Today, I want to share a few of the healing moments I have had over the past few years. It’s a culmination of these moments that has allowed me to say that even though I might not be completely healed, I am healing. I’m getting there.

My Story: Part 8 (the one where I finally found healing after our miscarriages)

The first healing moment happened after our second miscarriage.

I was reeling in grief, a hormonal mess, and just struggling all around. Several of the leaders in our church saw how broken I was and wisely recommended I see a counselor to help me get through the hardest moments.

Going to counseling was so helpful for me. It gave me a place to be honest…a place where I felt accepted no matter what I was feeling…a safe place to vent my frustrations and my disappointment and even my anger.

I don’t know what it was my counselor did or said, but it worked. She helped me get over the first hump. And doing that after our second miscarriage helped prepare me for the third miscarriage and then the fourth miscarriage.

The work my counselor did with me carried me through the tough months that came afterward.

Another healing moment was actually a culmination of kind actions done by other people.

My husband and I did a private memorial service for a couple of the babies we lost. We wrote their names on balloons and then released them into the sky. In conjunction with this, several of our family members wrote letters to us, remembering our babies with us.

We also had family and friends give us special gifts in memory of our babies. My parents had a metal tree designed, and on each leaf my mom wrote the name of a grandchild. She included both her living grandchildren and the ones we lost.  My in-laws planted a small garden in memory of our babies. Friends and family gave us keepsakes, jewelry, blankets, notes of remembrance, cards, meals, and so many other things.

These acts of kindness were quite literally hugs from God. We asked God to help us feel His comfort, and He did that through our friends and family.

Another healing moment came right after a friend announced her own pregnancy. 

I was struggling with her announcement, thinking about my own loss rather than her excitement, when another friend (who had earned the right to speak truth into my life) reminded me that her announcement wasn’t about me.

I had made it about me, and it wasn’t. It was about her and her alone.

That reminder from a friend I trust has stuck with me over the years through every single pregnancy announcement I’ve heard.

“It’s not about you,” I tell myself anytime I feel jealousy creeping into my heart.

A fourth healing moment came when I spoke at a conference for adoptive and foster moms. 

It’s funny. I was supposed to be sharing with the ladies there, but God was teaching me right along with them!

During one main session, I felt like the Lord was telling me He wasn’t going to fix this for us. For years I had been trying to grow our family, and it was at this conference that I finally said, “Okay, God. I give. I’m not going to keep trying if this isn’t your will for our lives.”

BUT, if I’m being completely honest, I didn’t have a good attitude about it. I might have said, “Okay, God,” but I said it like a pouty toddler who was mad he didn’t get his way.

I said I accepted God’s “no,” but I wasn’t happy about it.

In fact, looking back now, I think I held on to quite a bit of anger over it.

That brings me to this past February, when God yet again did some healing work in my heart.

I attended an Encounter ladies conference. The goal of the conference was to provide an opportunity for women to encounter God for a weekend.

And boy, did I!

Before going to this conference, I thought I was doing okay. Sure, my prayer life still struggled. Sure,  I still felt a little of a disconnect with God.

But overall, I was doing okay.

What God showed me that weekend was that I still held a lot of anger and unforgiveness toward Him…anger and also hurt. I was mad because He was able to help us with our miscarriages and yet chose not to (or at least, didn’t help us like I wanted Him to). I was hurt because I felt abandoned. I felt forsaken. I felt like I didn’t really matter to Him, or at least, I didn’t matter to Him enough to do anything about my situation.

What God impressed upon me that weekend was that God didn’t promise me a life of ease. He didn’t promise me that He would fix things for me.

But, just because He didn’t fix it doesn’t mean He doesn’t love me.

He already showed me how much he loved me 2000 years ago when He sent His son to the cross for me. He already proved His love back then. He shouldn’t have to prove it again.

It was almost like He was saying to me throughout the weekend, “Suck it up, Buttercup. You chose to follow me, so take up your cross and follow me.” (Yes, I know God probably doesn’t talk like that, but that’s the message I felt impressed on my heart.)

It was like He said to me, “Stop thinking about what you want, and start dying to yourself.”

When I chose to follow Jesus as a teenager, I chose to die to myself. And that’s not a one time thing. It’s a daily struggle. Daily, I have to give up my desires and my dreams and trust God. Daily, I have to trust His goodness (especially when my situation doesn’t feel good.)

This life is not about me, but I was making it all about me. And when we make our lives all about us, we aren’t happy. 

I know that now. The only way we can really be happy is when we take ourselves off the platform and start thinking about other people.

That conference was in February. It’s May now. My story isn’t over yet. But, I’m not as afraid of the future anymore. I’m not as afraid of the rest of my story.

Before February, I think I was still very afraid of the future. I was afraid of what God might allow into our lives.

Now, I’m choosing each day to trust in His goodness. To trust that even if things don’t go my way, He is still faithful. He is still good. And He still loves me.

Previous Posts in This Series

*This concludes the MY STORY series…for a time. I might come back to it as God continues to move in my life. But for now, I’m closing the chapter. Thank you for reading. It’s been a pleasure to share. If you missed any of the previous posts, here are the links:

• Part 7: The One With Our Journey Through Foster Parenting
• Part 6: The One Where We Had Our Fourth Miscarriage
• Part 5: The One Where God Surprise Us with a Baby
• Part 4: The One Where We Started Losing Babies We Couldn’t Wait to Hold
• Part 3: The One Where We Almost Lost Our Oldest Child
• Part 2: The One Where I Got Into a Car Wreck
• Part 1: The One Where I Had Surgery