My storm began in a doctor’s office. A routine ultrasound, a chance to see our second baby for the first time. But the day that began with joy was quickly over. Miscarriage.

I’ll truly never forget the soul-sucking emptiness I felt at that moment. How those words broke me—I’ll carry that for the rest of my life. My husband’s face from across the room—I could see a light leave his eyes at that moment. I felt a warm drop on my hands. Was I crying? I hadn’t even processed that yet. All I could feel was the emptiness.

My baby, our baby. This beautiful little life, gone. As my doctor stepped out to give us some privacy I could feel my soul cry out, “Why God!?! Why have you taken this baby from me?” There was no answer. Wrapped in my husband’s arms I sobbed. The storm swelled around me. I was drowning. Being pulled under by the waves of emptiness.

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I’ve dealt with grief before. I’ve had my fair share of loss. Family members, close friends. Expected and unexpected. But this? This was raw and unending. How could there be an end to this storm? I prayed to God that there had been a mistake, that I had counted wrong, a miscalculation. I begged, I bargained, I pleaded with all that I was. But in the end, our baby was with Him.

In the coming days and weeks, we began to take steps to heal. To pick up the shattered pieces of my heart and attempt to put it back together. Then, on Christmas Day of 2021, two pink lines showed up. And after a moment of pure joy, my heart sank.

See, what they don’t tell you is that pregnancy after loss is scary . . . terrifying. Each and every moment is filled with fear of the unknown. And I don’t have to even say it, if you know, you know. I pushed the grief I felt further and further down. I smiled through the fears, the anxiety, the dread. Every single appointment, I shook with fear. Each and every day, the thought what if I lose this baby too? blew through my mind. Then, then it happened. I felt her move.

The story of the rest of my pregnancy with her is for another day. But I will say this, at the moment I heard her take her first breath, her first cry, every shattered piece of my heart was placed back together. The storm I had endured was subsiding. And God, in all his faithfulness, had given me this rainbow.

RELATED: A Rainbow Baby Brings Hope, But Doesn’t Erase the Pain of Miscarriage

Looking back at those days, the early days I begged for peace, I longed for answers I would never get. I begged for the storm to pass, I didn’t want to be in it, I didn’t want this storm to be meant for me. And in the quiet moments, when the waves had pulled me under I heard Him whisper, “They only ever knew love.” My peace. I couldn’t see it then, but oh can I see it now.

Our second baby may have only been a moment, but during the time I carried them, they only knew love. The kind of love we all long for. And when they opened their eyes on the other side of Heaven, they knew the most perfect love they could ever know. And I know when I get there, I’m gonna hear them call out to me. The one I held close, but never got to meet. Here for only a moment, but forever changed my heart.

“Way maker, miracle worker, promise keeper, light in the darkness. My God. That is who you are.”

Originally published on the author’s blog