So God Made a Mother Collection ➔

Dear Broken-Hearted Mama, 

I see you. I see the pain that so easily engulfs and the thousands of tears that have flowed seemingly without a place to go. I see you cleaning out the nursery where your baby was supposed to sleep soundly. I see you holding those clothes so tightly, wishing so desperately they were keeping a little body warm. Yet, they are covered in tears. You pack up all the boxes and stuffies and empty everything in the room. You look around and the room reflects your heart. Sweet friend, you are not alone. 

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I see you. I see you walking through Walmart and the feeling in your chest as you walk past the baby section. A few months ago that section filled you with joy and excitement. As you look now, you are reminded of the one who was supposed to fill them. So you push your cart past, holding back tears. Beautiful mama, that’s the feeling of a strong love.

A love so deep and a heart so broken. I see you. 

I see how hard you try to be happy for your friends. You are! You really are. However, deep down, your heart longs for your beautiful baby. You take a picture of all of your and your friends’ kids, but yet your heart knows who’s missing. I see you at the restaurant and someone asks how many kids you have, and suddenly you don’t know what to say or how to answer. 

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Sweet friend, I write this letter to tell you that you are not alone.

This journey is not one any of us would have chosen. It’s not one I would have ever wished we would have to walk, but dear friend, please don’t give up joy. Please don’t give up hope, and please do not give up on all the beauty this life has to offer. For I see you, and I pray for you.  

Love, 
A broken-hearted mama

Kristen Murphy

My name is Kristen Murphy.  My husband and I reside in beautiful Alberta, Canada in a small town.  We have three beautiful children; Ryan, Sarah and Caleb.  On October 4, 2019 our daughter Sarah went to be with Jesus.  My hearts joy is to write about what that has all entailed and to be able to help others walking through loss.

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17 weeks pregnant, miscarriage, loss, D&E, second trimester loss, grief, loss, pregnancy,

No heartbeat. Fetal demise. These were the words I was told at my routine appointment three days ago when the archaic-looking cassette recorder my doctor uses to listen to the heartbeat didn’t pick up anything. Oh, she’s not in the right place. I just had too much pasta in Italy, I thought. The doctor went from being jovial to dead silence. He took me down the hall to a room with a sonogram machine. I had to sit there awhile, alone, while the antiquated machine was roused from its slumber enough to start making annoying noises. I still felt like...

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She Was Never Mine www.herviewfromhome.com

The Bible talks extensively about stewardship. It is a concept that our worldly broken hearts have a very hard time reconciling with. What we have in our lives does not belong to us. We are temporary caregivers. We stand in place of the real owner. Much like managers who govern in place of a king. This analogy reminds me of a Lord of the Rings reference when in the movie version of The Return of The King, Lord Denethor, the steward of Gondor refused to acknowledge that the true king had returned to claim his throne. Denethor forgot who the...

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My Baby Was Stillborn, But Still Born www.herviewfromhome.com

My baby was stillborn, but still born. In a cool white hospital room where so many had been born before. My body trembled and shook as his body worked its way out of my womb and into the hands of a doctor. He was void of breath, of sound, of movement, but he was still born. My baby was stillborn, but still lived. In the darkness of my womb. The outline of his body was visible against the darkness of the screen, his presence undeniable. The sound of his heartbeat drowned out the sound of mine as I watched his...

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