I struggled with this one tonight, but as I sat and reflected on the day, I was able to muster some thoughts…I can’t promise a picture, but let’s see where this goes.

I don’t like April Fool’s Day. I used to. And then eleven years ago today, I was in the emergency room miscarrying our second pregnancy.

Nothing about that journey was pleasant. I was so hard on myself and thinking that I failed as a mother to help that baby survive.

On the calendar, I was nearly 12 weeks along, but as tests were done, the baby stopped progressing somewhere after 8 weeks. We had told our families. Punky had proudly displayed his “Big brother 2008” shirt. We were ready for kid #2.

Then, the spotting happened while I was scrapbooking at church. I went to the doctor and HCG levels were measured. I was told to come back and have another test to see how fast my HCG levels were multiplying. They weren’t, so I was told I would soon be miscarrying our baby.

Nothing prepares you for this journey. I found so much support and love in Hubby, even though he was grieving. I tried to surround myself in the small joys Punky would exude each day. But, I was left with so many questions, and no answers to any of them.

I knew the “it happened for a reason” and the “God has a plan” ways, but I wanted more. That wasn’t enough for me. Why was I robbed of my child? Why did we have to grieve this baby all while still celebrating the milestones of our first-born?

I lost faith. And quickly. My sister was also pregnant with my nephew. I couldn’t look past what we were missing instead of what God was telling us. I couldn’t see that God had other plans for our family. God knew what was going on. I was blind.

I retreated into a very dark place for quite a few months. I tried to understand the why. I couldn’t get a hold on that as we were still grieving the loss of my mother-in-law and my dear uncle (as well as our cat, Nala).

I kept telling myself it was my fault I miscarried. It was something I did to hurt the baby or to make it not grow correctly. And it crushed me. Over. And Over again.

I couldn’t let go of those thoughts. I replayed every moment of those 12 weeks, and I came up with nothing. Then it dawned on me MONTHS later that I came up with nothing because it wasn’t my fault. I wasn’t the one in charge of this. I had’t done anything wrong. This was God’s way of showing me that He had a plan. He knew what our family would look like one day.

People would tell me that this was God’s way of taking care of a child who wasn’t developed right. A way of God to take away our blessing because it wasn’t right for our family. As a special education teacher, I really wrestled with that one. Why couldn’t we work with our baby? Why couldn’t we be given the opportunity to show this child love and acceptance. I was so brutal in my thoughts. It still hurts today to type these words.

I realized today as the day went on, that I didn’t wrestle with any of those emotions. I didn’t even reflect on the could have beens or the figuring out of how old and how this child would be part of our family.

I went about my day. I played tricks on my students. I engaged fully in the moment today and took away so much from the little parts of today that my heart swelled with love and with pride.

God did have a plan. Who knows – we probably wouldn’t have little Kirby to bless our family with if that pregnancy had been brought to fruition. That pregnancy certainly taught me so much more about life, God and love than any other lesson I had had in life. I kept blaming myself for losing that baby.

But, now I feel as though I have been able to move past it. In a sense, I have “atoned for my sins,” and I am able to move forward. It’s been a long 11 years, but I feel like I am there. I can go back to celebrating the day. Celebrating the joy, thoughtfulness, prayer and pure love that came from that whole journey. I didn’t do anything “wrong,” our baby just wasn’t strong enough to survive and grow into a healthy person. That is from nothing of my wrong-doing. Nothing of Hubby’s wrong-doing. It just is what it is. A sad lesson in life.

God is Good! God has a plan. We just need to be more accepting and loving when things don’t go the way we think they should.

Here’s a stroll down memory lane to March 2008 when Punky made his announcement, I know that God made that right choice, and I know that I will always think of Baby Schad on these days as I embarked through a hellish experience. But there is so much to be found in God knowing what was best for our family. What was best for us at that moment in time.

Tonight’s prayer: Atoning God, we give you thanks for bridging our brokenness through the life, death, and resurrection of your Son, bringing us closer to oneness with you. Help us to become more like Jesus as we forgive and receive forgiveness, for Jesus’ sake. Amen