As I Lay Weeping

At my twenty-week ultrasound, we found out that we were having a girl and a boy, whom we named Natalie Jane and Noah Jay. We were preparing our hearts and our home for their arrival and for life with them. I look back at this time in our lives and remember it as a time of bliss. It was ignorant bliss honestly. I fully expected my pregnancy to progress normally, lead to the healthy births of Natalie and Noah, and for them to come home with us.

I wish with all my heart that they had.

June 16, 2017

When I started experiencing signs of preterm labor, I truly had no idea what was happening. I realize now that I waited far too long before going to the hospital. By the time I arrived at the hospital’s labor-and-delivery triage, I was in active labor and the doctor said that I was fully dilated. I was shocked to learn that I was going to have a baby that day, maybe two.

It wasn’t until the doctor explained that I wasn’t far enough along yet for the babies to be viable that I began to comprehend the gravity of the situation. The doctors could not stop my labor. Baby A, Natalie, was going to be born. And she was too premature to survive. I’m pretty sure I went into shock shortly thereafter.

Within about an hour after arriving at the hospital, Natalie Jane was born already in the presence of Jesus. I got to hold her as soon as she was born, and she was perfect. There are no words to describe the extent of pain, heartbreak, and horror that I experienced as I held her in my arms.

That night I didn’t sleep. I just held her. It was both the best and worst night of my life, one that I will never forget.

June 17, 2017

After about thirty-six hours with Natalie, it was time to say goodbye. As much as I didn’t want to let her go, my attention needed to turn to Noah. Saying goodbye to her was one of the most traumatizing moments—again, words just don’t do it justice.

As the nurses took her body, it felt like a part of me was ripped away, and I broke.

No one should have to say goodbye to their child. With everything in me, I wanted her back. But in that desperate state, I could feel Noah in my womb moving around reminding me that he was still here with me. I wasn’t alone, yet.

Despite our hopes for Noah’s life, my labor continued to progress. That evening, he was born at 7:01 p.m. Noah’s delivery was very different from Natalie’s. Noah was born alive, and I got to hold him as he attempted to breathe on his own. Within a few minutes, he peacefully passed from our presence into the presence of Jesus and his sister.

I spent the rest of the night with Noah in my arms, as I had done with Natalie the night before. I am thankful to have had that time with each of them, but the nights were the hardest. The trauma of what had happened seemed to hit the worst at nighttime, causing waves of grief, fear, and panic that provoked me to cry out and scream.

I was terrified. I was a mess. I was broken.

The next day, I had to say goodbye to Noah. It was without a doubt the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do. When I let go of Natalie’s body, if nothing else, I still had Noah. But letting go of Noah’s body meant that I had no babies left.

Just like that, they were gone—and my life fell to pieces. I fell to pieces.

Desperate for Hope

The days of their births and deaths changed my life forever and changed me forever. Figuring out how to live again after losing them has been one of the greatest challenges—how to keep living in spite of and in the midst of my pain, loss, grief, and longing for my children.

I found myself in a place where I was absolutely desperate for hope, help, and emotional and spiritual sustenance—and the only place that I found those things was in Jesus. He alone sustained me in the days, weeks, and months that followed.

During that time, I kept a prayer journal that documented my time alone with God. The scriptures and prayers in the pages ahead come straight from that prayer journal, and more details of my story and experience are intertwined in each chapter. This book is a raw and honest reflection of my walk with God over the course of that painful time. It is an outflow of my heart for God and His heart for you.

In the midst of my greatest heartbreak, God was with me, led me, taught me, showed me mercy and grace, and—maybe the most valuable to me at the time—gave me reason to hope. For these reasons, I believe that it is my responsibility now to share with you the hope of Jesus Christ in the midst of whatever tragedy you may be facing—to share with you what I learned from mine, and encourage you that if I got through it, so will you.

I pray that God will speak to you as you read. I pray that He will touch you, comfort you, and draw Himself close to you—that He will use this book to help you find hope and strengthen your faith.