Kate’s Story

In September 2016, I walked down the aisle to Sara Groves’ song “He’s Always Been Faithful”:

This is my anthem, and this is my song,
The theme of the stories I’ve heard for so long:
God has been faithful, He will be again.
His loving compassion, it knows no end.
All I have need of His hand will provide.
He’s always been faithful to me.

My husband and I had seen God’s faithfulness woven through the stories of our lives up to that point, but only God knew how fitting those words would be as the next couple of years unfolded.

Just a few months into our marriage, we found out I was pregnant. We were surprised but thankful for this new life, so we just laughed that clearly God had different plans than ours. After a healthy and uncomplicated pregnancy, I woke up hurting one day shy of 37 weeks. We went to the hospital fully expecting to be told that this is what false labor feels like and to be sent home. Instead, we were told that our baby had no heartbeat.

My body was indeed in labor, and not too many hours later, our precious Esther Joy was in our arms. She had a full head of dark hair like her daddy, just as I was hoping she would. She was perfectly formed in every way, and I kept thinking she’d open her eyes and wake up.

Our parents were able to arrive from out of town in record time, and our church family surrounded us with an indescribable love. I could go on for pages and pages about all the big and little ways we were loved and served, especially in the first days and weeks after Esther was born—coworkers who donated vacation time to my husband, women who cleaned our house and left notes of Scripture in every room before we came home from the hospital, meals, cards, and flowers, and so much more.

Over those next few months, I experienced God’s love through His people in the most tangible way I ever have. Every text message that came at just the right time, every gift card that encouraged us to get out of our too-quiet house, every baked good that showed up on our doorstep—each of these felt like a direct message from God, saying, “I see you. I have not forgotten you in your grief. I am caring for you, and I will continue to care for you.” God has been faithful, He will be again.

As the fall turned to winter and my heart slowly processed this grief, I began to experience anxiety that made me feel physically unwell. That journey is its own story, but all of these stories are intertwined, so it feels important to at least mention it here. That season of intense anxiety drove me over and over again to my Father, and He proved that even on the darkest days, when I felt most overwhelmed, He was always there. Sometimes I couldn’t see it until later, but He never left me.

In the spring, we decided to start trying again to conceive. The wait was mercifully short, and the positive pregnancy test made us feel excited and nervous. I had so many conflicting emotions, understandably. I was hesitant to hope, but we had identified a clotting disorder that most likely caused Esther’s stillbirth, so with appropriate treatment everything should be fine with this baby. We had walked through our valley of the shadow of death, and I was ready for God to grant the desires of our hearts. But again, God’s plans were different than ours.

In May, at just seven weeks, I woke up bleeding, and miscarried our baby that day. I was devastated. In some ways, this second loss hit me harder than the first. I subconsciously assumed that God owed us a happy ending—that we had walked through enough heartache already. I knew in my mind that wasn’t true. I knew in my mind that my sin deserves only God’s wrath, and that all the good I have is simply because of God’s free gift of grace through Jesus. I knew in my mind that God works all things for good, that He loves me (He gave His son for me!), and that He had a purpose in giving my babies such short lives on this earth. But my heart was so slow to remember all of that.

I felt like God had just kicked me while I was down, and that went against everything I’d known of Him. I felt betrayed. In those following weeks and months, I wrestled with bitterness and anger. Ultimately, the only one who could heal my heart was the one I was holding at arm’s length. God actually used a fresh wave of anxiety a couple months after the miscarriage to finally pull me back to Himself. In my hurt I had kept my distance, but as soon as I felt afraid, I instinctively ran to my safest place and realized His arms had been ready and waiting for me all along. I know, that sounds kind of cheesy, but it was comforting and humbling and healing for me to remember that my feelings about God do not change the reality of who He is.

I still don’t understand why He chose to give us two babies and then to take them so soon. But I know that He is good and only does good. I know that He has proven His faithfulness to us over the last two years in more ways than I can count. Surely I can trust that He will not change and His faithfulness will continue.

As I write this, our third child has been growing for 15 weeks inside of me. I still wrestle with the reality that God has not promised that we will bring this baby home, and I try to remind myself of promises He has made that are true no matter the circumstances. Lately I’ve usually ended those conversations with myself with the reminder that each day I carry life is an honor and a gift, so I can simply give thanks for today and not worry about tomorrow.

I’m reminded of the verse in Psalm 139 that says, “In your book were written, every one of them, the days that were formed for me, when as yet there were none of them.” God has already written down the exact plan He has for this life, just as He planned precisely the 36 weeks and 6 days of Esther’s life and the short 7 weeks of Baby Newman’s life. I can rest in His perfect plan. God has been faithful, He will be again. His loving compassion, it knows no end. All I have need of His hand will provide. He’s always been faithful to me.

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Kate is mom to two babies in heaven and one baby expected to arrive in June 2019. She and her husband Matt live in Jackson, Tennessee, where they both work as nurses and strive to faithfully serve and invest in their local church community.

 

 

We would be honored to share your story as a Hope Mom on our blog. On Saturdays we feature Hope Moms’ stories in order to showcase God’s faithfulness even in the midst of such deep sorrow. If you would like to have your story shared on our blog for this purpose, learn more and submit here.

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