In our fourth installment of this winter’s Permission to Grieve series, LaRae Humes, my For the Love launch team sister and fellow Austinite, shares how her recent experience grieving multiple miscarriages taught her that God’s love never fails.
Permission to Grieve
I had never truly lost something before 2014.
Sure, a pet fish would bite the dust or a dog would run away, but the last time I had experienced loss was my grandmother. I was 6 years old. To say that I learned what grieving was during that time is off the mark.
There are sweet memories of my grandmother that I cling to; however, I was not capable of understanding how to grieve or what it even meant that she had passed away.
“Grief is a journey, often perilous and without clear direction. The experience of grieving cannot be ordered or categorized, hurried or controlled, pushed aside or ignored indefinitely. It is inevitable as breathing, as change, as love. It may be postponed, but it will not be denied,” writes author Molly Fumia.
Grief knows no timeline.
2014 was quite a year for the Humes family. We experienced true highs and lows, as each year holds; however, this one was especially different for us. In a span of four months, I had two pregnancies that we did not get to see through to full term.
I found myself putting my hope in getting pregnant again. I thought that if we were able to, I would be ‘okay.’ All would be right again.
Unfortunately that isn’t always how the world works. We often put our hope in broken things as a result. Now that I have had a baby, I recognize what it is that I truly lost and I do not want anyone else to experience that loss.
In our society, miscarriage is often experienced as a private grief.
When we found out we were pregnant for a third time in one year, I immediately called our family and community. I wanted them to come before the Lord with us and cry out to the Him to hear the desire of our hearts. Having our community surrounding us and wrapping us in their arms made this grieving process much more bearable. It is then that I was truly grateful that we didn’t wait the ‘understood’ twelve weeks before telling people that we were pregnant.
My soul needed people to know what we experienced.
So please talk. Tell. Share what you are going through. A hurting heart is a loving heart. The only thing that really helped me through this is knowing other women who have been through the same thing.
Miscarriage is such a common trauma, more than I would like to think – there is no reason for us to be alone in our grief. Allow yourself to feel it.
When you can identify it, you are healing, growing, and stepping forward.
There’s a point when my grief, doubt and reservation turned into hope and trust. It wasn’t until I was 20 weeks pregnant that I was able to fully breathe in relief. I had finally surrendered this pregnancy to the Lord.
I trusted Him with it. It took time. It wasn’t easy. There were a lot of ugly cries in the car, but the end result was trusting the Creator with the number of days I would have with each baby.
Grief is cyclical in the way that there will be days, events, etc., that will arise and bring up the past. When I am reminded of the loss, my hope is found in truth.
His love never fails
Lamentations 3:19-24 specifically blessed my soul in this season, and all since then:
I remember my affliction and my wandering, the bitterness and the gall. I well remember them, and my soul is downcast within me. Yet this I call to mind and therefore I have hope:
Because of the LORD’s great love we are not consumed, for his compassions never fail. They are new every morning; great is your faithfulness. I say to myself, “The LORD is my portion; therefore I will wait for him.”
These lyrics from Hillsong’s Oceans were medicine to my soul:
You’ve never failed and You won’t start now.
I am not sure what 2016 holds for us.
But as I reflect upon the year of 2015 and all God has done, we are overwhelmed by His goodness and loving-kindness. He has blessed us tremendously with a sweet daughter.
I know that having another child doesn’t ‘fix’ the loss we endured, but I see the way each piece of our story has been woven together to create this beautiful tapestry of life and it will continue to come together.
This tapestry has some tattered and torn pieces, but it doesn’t mean that our Creator is any less good. Each piece comes together to make something truly beautiful.
In a season of grief, what are you clinging to? Where are you putting your hope?
My prayer is that you are able to find community, encouragement, and trust in the Lord. Cling to truth and give yourself grace and permission to fully grieve – whatever that looks like for you.
LaRae Humes at My Musings
LaRae is passionate about Jesus, family and being outdoors. She loves to run, cook and bake and read. Join LaRae in her journey as a believer and first time momma in Austin, Texas, at laraehumes.blogspot.