You expect it to get easier. You would think that having an excitement for a mere 2 weeks would mean the disappointment when it’s over wouldn’t make your heart so very heavy. After 5 miscarriages, this one shouldn’t be so heartbreaking.

Six miscarriages. Six miscarriages.

I woke up this morning to cramping and bleeding. I guess I knew it was coming. My nausea quickly faded 4 days ago and was replaced by waves of, what I wanted to believe, were “growing pains”. I knew the sign of fading nausea all to well. And I should have started preparing myself then– four days ago. I instead started picking out fabrics to make him/her a blankie to come home in from the hospital.

“Positive thinking, Steph. Baby is fine.”

I knew if I did miscarry, it would be easier than before. I’ve had 2 healthy beauties since those last 5 miscarriages. Their sweet presence has been utterly healing. But. This time?When everyone leaves the room, my eyes well up just as they did those last 5 times. And the cramping plagues my heart suddenly more than my womb. And I mourn a little life I had 2 long, wonderful weeks to celebrate and look forward to.

I always wonder if I did smething wrong. Was it something I ate? Did I lift something too heavy? What did I do? But it wasn’t me. I didn’t do anything. It’s always been my nature to feel guilty, to blame myself. But there’s nothing I could have done differently. This was in the plan. And one day I will understand it.

When I read A Thousand Splendid Suns, by Khaled Hosseini, I read a few paragraphs that really made me feel. I was aware of my pregnancy when I started the book, so these peices really stayed with me…

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“Mariam stroked the softness of her belly. No bigger than a fingernail the doctor had said.

I am going to be a mother, she thought. Then she was laughing to herself, and saying it over and over, relishing the words.

When Mariam thought of this baby, her heart swelled inside of her. It swelled and swelled until all the loss, all the grief, all the loneliness and self-abasement of her life washed away…”

The book had another little piece that I memorized. The author wrote,

“Each snowflake that falls is a sigh heaved by an aggrieved woman somewhere in the world. All the sighs drift up into the sky, gather in the clouds, then break into tiny pieces that fall silently on the people below.”

“It’s a reminder of how quietly we women endure all that falls upon us.”

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It’s alright. I have been blessed 3 times over. Austin… Bella… Noah… Somehow just saying their names feels like a blessing. Someone smiled upon me. It’s just going to be alright.

Today I will spend time– praying, cuddling, and laughing where I can. I might squeeze in some tears too, becuase that’s alright as well, isn’t it? Tears are good for the soul too.