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Wonder's Story

I knew I was pregnant.  Before I got the positive test on January 5th, I simply knew. I would like to say that I was filled with ho...

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17 February 2018

Wonder's Story


I knew I was pregnant. 

Before I got the positive test on January 5th, I simply knew. I would like to say that I was filled with hope and courage but I admit that those things felt a million miles away. 

I was unable to envision a little sandy haired Wagner Baby. I couldn’t picture what life would be like with this little one. I couldn’t see beyond the elephant in the room - the word I absolutely despise. The word “miscarriage” seemed permanently tattooed across my forehead. I couldn’t escape the thought that I would never get to meet this baby.

But the Lord gave me a name.

Upon sharing my news with trusted friends and a few family members, I realized that several of my friends were pregnant as well! Truly I was happy for them. But I couldn’t shake the thought, “Great, now I will have to watch my friends go on to have healthy pregnancies while I mourn, to remind me of all the milestones I will never see with this baby.” 

But the Lord gave me a name. 

My word for 2018 was “REMEMBER” and boy, I did not want it. It hinted at the fact that suffering would hit us again and we would need to remember the Lord. Not a bad thing, but my heart felt (and still feels) so tired and worn with sorrow. I wrote this in my journal the day that I committed to that word for the year; “But the thing is, there will be suffering in 2018. Suffering and joy go hand in hand.”

If there is one thing that all of my sorrows in miscarriage have taught me it is that joy and sorrow work together. When I walk with the Lord and allow my heart to experience “negative emotions”, pain and grief it produces in my heart something positive - something to rejoice over. Walking with Jesus in my sorrow produces joy. And it makes no sense to the world that I would feel genuine joy in my grief - but Jesus. It is a wonder to the world. It is a wonder to me. 

And the Lord gave me a name. 

I admit that there has been a good bit of self-preservation going on in my heart. My heart is still spinning through the facets of grief in losing the twins. So I have welcomed distractions and welcomed the long 4 week wait before our first sonogram. 

The night before our sonogram, it all hit me. Like a train of reality. Hope had completely slipped through my fingers. I laid in bed sobbing, my steady and hopeful husband holding onto me with one hand and enough hope for the both of us with the other. Whether I was simply preparing for the worst as a way to protect my heart, or whether I really knew this baby would never be in my arms - I was prepared for what we saw the next morning. 

We have never been the exception when it comes to pregnancies, we are always the rule. If it looks inconclusive in one sonogram, it has always ended in miscarriage. The sonogram that day quickly told us, we were to take another walk in the valley of miscarriage. 

Our doctor came in. We wept. She wept. I blurted out some hopeless sentiments. She blurted out “I just don’t know what else to do for you guys.” And with a personal nurse escort - to avoid the waiting room with happy pregnant ladies - we left. 

Suffering has proven to me who the kindred spirits in my life are. Who the people who loves us unconditionally not because we are lovable but because they are loved by God and they just can’t help but spill that love out on other people. Brave people who have always entered into our grief with us. And new friends who have surprised us with their eagerness to comfort. I have been blessed with close friends who I think have grieved this miscarriage almost as intense as we have. Our home has been filled with flowers. Our tummies have been loved with meals. Our arms have been held in hugs. Our hearts and minds have been covered in prayers. Our phones have been overflowing with encouragements. 

I acknowledge that every person grieves differently. But I believe that grieving within the circle of trusted community - oh it is so sweet. Oh it is so sweet. Oh it is so sweet. 

And again, the Lord gave me a name.

We have chosen to share our story, yet again, because I believe that miscarriage is a burden that too many couples bear. And too many couples feel alone. However, this particular miscarriage is a difficult one to to share because I have actually not miscarried yet. I’m in the waiting. 

I am a walking tomb currently. And my belly is swollen with sorrow.

It may feel inappropriate to you to share such a personal thing while it is still happening, but this is a perfect picture to me of sorrow. Joy and sorrow. I carry death in my womb and yet I have laughed, I have carried wondrous joy - and hope has been restored. All while I have a daily reminder of grief under my shirt. It makes no sense. It baffles me. 

But the Lord gave me a name.

Wonder.

We invite you into our mourning. As we grieve the loss of another child. As we grieve the vision of what we hoped our family would be. As we wait for this miscarriage to happen. As we pray to avoid medical intervention. 

We invite you to grieve our baby, Wonder. And to remind you that suffering with Jesus is a paradox of emotions. May the world watch us grieve and wonder, not because of our strength (because it is admittedly absent), but because of the one living inside us. Because of the God who lives, loves and sees us. May these seasons of suffering become ebenezers of faith for us to look back on and remember the wonder of sorrow. 

Momma and Daddy love you Wonder. We will see you again. And oh what a glorious day that will be. 

Shortly after we found out we were expecting, I felt the Lord speak the name "Wonder" to me. I was walking aimlessly around Target and felt the Lord lead me to the baby section. As I turned the corner I saw this onesie and I felt like the Lord whispered "This if for you. Whether you know this is a healthy baby or not. Buy this onesie in faith. In life and in death, I am still good."