“We can rejoice, too, when we run into problems and trials, for we know that they help us develop endurance. And endurance develops strength of character, and character strengthens our confident hope of salvation. And this hope will not lead to disappointment. For we know how dearly God loves us, because he has given us the Holy Spirit to fill our hearts with his love.” Romans 5:3-5 NLT

Grieving a child lost to miscarriage or still birth is one of life’s worst cruelties. There are not many worse ways to suffer than to realize all of your hopes are gone in an instant. My third loss was harder for me to come to terms with than the others. I remember when my doctor sadly announced that our child no longer had a heartbeat. We had all ready lost this baby’s twin, and now I was just told there would be no delivery, no birthdays, no hugs, no kisses… nothing but bad memories. I remember making the incredibly hard decision to move forward with a D&C when I realized I could not handle walking around with a “dead child” inside me.

After my surgery, I recall being numb. Eventually, numbness turned to sadness. Sadness folded into anger. I slowly fell into a deep depression. I was drowning in my pain.

Months later, God met me where I was at and paved a recovery road for me that I began to walk down one foot at a time. There were points I stumbled. Many days I tripped as I watched women walking around with their beautiful bellys and all I had was a shrinking waist line.

Other times, I would veer off my road… easily being lured into sinful ways. I went through a stage where I was so resentful and jealous. Seeing babies was like swallowing a bitter pill.

Along my journey, I encountered roadblocks. Bad reports from doctors, future miscarriages, months that no line showed up on my home pregnancy test when I was late – all felt like debris in the road. Many days, I felt stuck on a highway behind a million cars. I just knew I was never going to get to my destination.

And just when it seemed like I was back in the driver’s seat with my foot on the gas… making some solid progress on my road to recovery… I would have a mouthy, back seat driver. This was not a friend. No. This was a passenger who wanted me to be lost and would say and do anything to cause me to veer off my path.

Looking back over the last six years, most of which have included a travel down the lonely highway of grief, I see now that there were so many points that God showed up for me in amazing ways. I’ve learned so much about who I am in Christ. I found the courage to be strong when others would be weak. I’ve picked myself up and dusted myself off each time I Iost another unborn child. I have put on God’s armor and battled through many secret sins like jealousy, loneliness, anger, fear, doubt (just to name a few).

After miles and miles went by in my journey, I began to reach out to offer help to women in pain. Through God’s giftings, I began to write about my experience to inspire others to grieve with God while finding the hope to keep on trying for their children. I was blessed to hear God through a prophetic word, cement my faith in a supernatural way and see the birth of His promise when my daughter entered the world.

What I have taken away through my experience as an infertile and recurrent miscarriage survivor is that God takes tragedy and turns it into triumph. Today I can confidently say that I am a much, much better woman because of my journey. And while my path was littered with bumps, potholes and detours, God paved a way for me to prosper, to grow and to know Him in a deeper way.

Last week in a devotional, I wrote this… “To all of my children I must say I am grateful for you. Please know that all of you have set me on the path I’ve been on for awhile now. I love more today because of the journey we went on. Thank you all for allowing me to grow, to be your mommy and carry you in my heart forever. It is because of all of you that I desire to help women! You have all made me more than I ever thought I could be…”

To all of you women struggling through your grief… I encourage you to keep putting one foot in front of the other. One day… you might write a similar letter to your child in heaven. One day you will look back and celebrate just how far you’ve come.