One year {365 days} later

Dear Baby Rasler,



It’s been nearly a year. Almost 365 days since I lost you. This has been by far, one of the hardest years of my life. You’ve been thought about every day since that terrible Friday evening. This year has been a year of anger, frustration, loneliness, and fear. I’m just being honest. I’m going through a year that is testing my faith in a very real way.


I think I’ve rested in the fact on the reasons you’ve left, but I’m still left with the fears of the future. The problem I have is the times I’ve been most vulnerable in my life have often times left me with the most pain. In secret, I wrote to you. In secret, I prayed over you. In secret, I dreamed of everything that God was going to have you be. And in secret, I lost you. Maybe some people don’t understand my pain. It was only a miscarriage they say, not like a child that grew up in your home. Ah, you’ll get pregnant again, they reply. But the difference is I gave you everything. My attention, my body, my focus, my prayers and my heart. And a broken heart takes awhile to mend. People expect you to get over and be “normal” again. That’s what they want from you. That’s what they need you to do.


I haven’t felt normal now, for about a year.


Nothing in me wants to experience what I did with you again. But the reality is that I’m no different than anyone else. I cannot be spared from pain just because I don’t like it. And I don’t like that. It took everything in me to recover from your loss. Anti-depressants, gym time, weight watchers, and especially spending time in the Word have helped me heal along the way. But I’m learning of the 4 listed, the first three are fleeting and the last one is only sustaining.


The thought of losing control scares me. Losing control of my emotions, my diet, and my waistline. The strangest thing though, when it comes to the Word of God, he says that the tighter we hold onto things, the easier they slip away. Besides the things of this world only pass away, but we are to store up for ourselves treasures where moth cannot destroy and where thieves cannot steal.

Maybe what I’ve uncovered in myself is idol worship. The idol of control. The idol of vanity. And it’s reared it’s ugly head in this last year. My loss has exposed my own shallowness. Ugh. But selfishly, egocentrically, I don’t want to go through all that again.


I have no answers or revelations to this problem. So I’m not a “super” Christian. But all I can ask for at this point in time is for God to help me.


Where I’ve placed other priorities above you, Lord, forgive me.
Where there is confusion, I pray for peace.
Where there is uncertainty, give me trust.
Where there is pain, grant me healing.
Where I’ve chosen to hold on, Lord, help me to put it all at the foot of your cross.
And lastly,
Lord, where there is fear, restore my sight with hope.

Tangled: Hope long awaited

The other night for our date, Galen and I went to see Tangled.  We hardly ever go to movies, but the sweet happily ever after princess movie in 3D just seemed impossible for us not to go.  Well, me anyways.  Like many fairy tales twisted with the Disney spin, the fair maiden was born with magical power, stolen as a child, locked in a tower, raised by another woman, is mistakenly found, escapes the tower and is reunited with her real parents... and of course, lives happily ever after.  Not with Prince Charming though, a former thief.

Anyway, not the point. So this blog isn't to be a critique on the movie, however, it was very enjoyable and the music was good. This blog is intended to reveal the message I got from it.  At the end of the movie, when Rapunzel is finally reunited with her royal parents, there is a moment where they stare at each other in a surreal sort of way.  After a few seconds, mother and daughter hug and dad quickly joins in.  There is weeping and smiles.  Except it wasn't just the cartoon characters who were weeping.  I was a red hot weeping mess.

Last week, after going to a friends candle party, I met a woman and I was talking to her about my miscarriage.  She shared with me a story about a boy who died.  He had appendicitis and died.  Fortunately, he was able to be revived.  After coming back to, the little boy was able to tell his parents what he had seen.  He met poppy (a beloved relative in which the child never met on Earth).  The other surprising revelation was that when he came back he asked his parents if they knew that he had a sister.  He said that he had met her and she had told him that she had to leave when she was in her mommy's womb.

If I haven't explained myself clearly enough, let me do that now.  I feel in some ways that my baby was taken from me. And I know where my child is currently, not wandering in space, not stolen, nor locked up in a tower somewhere, but in Heaven.  Anyway, what hit me was seeing Rapunzel reunite with her parents.  I realized, in such a transparent way, that I too would be reunited with my child.  Maybe tomorrow, maybe 50 years from now.

Watching that movie really reassured me and I continued to realize that I can have hope.  Not only hope to go to Heaven some day, but hope to see my baby and get to know him/her.  This revelation became so obvious and real to me that that is the reason I sat there and cried.  I am so thankful for that hope, without it, I don't know how I could heal.