This Sunday, the sweet women of our small little church, will be throwing a celebration for the arrival of our twins, in what will hopefully be a couple of months. And while thankful, humbled and indebted, I am admittedly a bit fearful.

I am of the tribe of women who are expecting children after a loss. Though I had experienced a miscarriage before, and it is always painful, it has been the sting of our second miscarriage in the second trimester that still lingers.

What if something happens? Will people be disappointed that we celebrated if these little lives never come to be? Is it too early to celebrate?

The fear of unknown paralyzes many of us. Every so often, one of our kids will want to watch our wedding video. While the celebration was beautiful, my stomach churns when I think about the painful journey ahead for that young couple smiling, crying with joy, and laughing in that video. Occasionally, when I look back at a few of my children’s baby pictures, I often remember the fear of nearly losing our first born at birth. The pain of isolation. The depths of postpartum depression.

I also remember, in the midst of fear and pain, there is always something to be celebrated. Always.

As as I think about the demographics of the women in our church, they are predominantly older. Beautiful, strong women of one, even two generations before me. These women have been through some of the deepest pain imaginable. Many of these precious women are widows, some have buried children, some have dealt with infertility. Some are dealing with difficult situations with their children, some have been single moms, and some have had cancer or nursed others through the horrific disease. Some have lived through the “Great Depression” and some of these beautiful women live quietly, with pain so deep, many will never know. But they show up.  Always. Remarkably, most of these women are the first to make a meal for a funeral or an illness. They are also the first in line to celebrate the joys in life. They are wise enough to know there most certainly will be both pain and joy. And they show up for both. Having lived though so many difficult and beautiful seasons, they know….

For everything there is a season, and a time for every matter under heaven:

a time to be born, and a time to die;

a time to plant, and a time to pluck up what is planted;

a time to kill, and a time to heal;

a time to break down, and a time to build up;

a time to weep, and a time to laugh;

a time to mourn, and a time to dance….

{Ecclesiastes 3}

I pray that I am able to embrace the example of these wonderful women, even when find myself hiding, like a little girl, afraid of the joy. For everything there is a season. Reminding myself that its ok to embrace the celebration.

Even if you sometimes fear it.

I’m thankful for a reason to celebrate.

So God Made a Mother book by Leslie Means

If you liked this, you'll love our book, SO GOD MADE A MOTHER available now!

Order Now

Check out our new Keepsake Companion Journal that pairs with our So God Made a Mother book!

Order Now
So God Made a Mother's Story Keepsake Journal

Kathy Jacobitz

Wife of 14 years to my college love. Mother of 4 kids ages 10, 9, 7, 5 and of {surprise!} twins due July 2015. A Lincoln native, now an unconventional prairie wife living deep in the heart of southeast Nebraska for over a decade. Always a city girl at heart. A former high school teacher, now a current homeschooling mom. Always in process. Thankful for Divine restoration and Grace. Runs solely on coffee. I blog over at The J Crew .{http://thejcrew-kj.blogspot.com/}

Mom Showed Me What It Means to Be a Caregiver

In: Grief, Grown Children, Loss
Grown woman with her mother smiling, color photo

My mother is an extraordinary woman. She inspires me to be a better person. She has spent seven years selflessly caring for my father after a horrific battle with Stage IV tongue cancer. During this time she would laugh with me, cry with me, and express her fears and frustrations with me. My mother is the definition of strength and courage while surrounded by heartbreak and human suffering. During the time my mother was taking care of my father she had her own health issues. Her colon perforated in 2012 making her critically ill. It’s nothing short of a miracle...

Keep Reading

Mom May Never See Our Home, but Her Love Lives Here

In: Grief, Loss
Cute and quaint house, color photo

To the average person, it was a typical Wisconsin Friday in October—wet, dreary, and a bit nippy. To my wife and me, it was a day of both elation and sadness. We put in an offer on a house we both loved. My wife spotted it a few days beforehand; we toured it alongside a couple of other options, and just knew it was the one. And we did it without our mothers. Her mother died seven and a half years before. At the end of October was the three-year anniversary of my mother’s death. There’s something to be said...

Keep Reading

This is How to Support Miscarriage Moms

In: Grief, Loss, Motherhood
Woman with arm around another woman sitting in field

When you hear the term miscarriage, what do you think? My initial thought was the loss of an unborn child, but have you ever really wondered what truly happens when you are having a miscarriage? Our first miscarriage occurred immediately after our wedding in 2019, we had a chemical pregnancy after conceiving while on our honeymoon. This means we had a positive pregnancy test, but by the time we got to our OB/GYN, I had the heaviest period of my life, resulting in a negative serum pregnancy test. That was hard enough to go through but was nothing compared to...

Keep Reading

To the Family with a Loved One in Jail

In: Grief, Living
Woman with head in hands

At first, I wanted to hide. I didn’t want to face people anywhere, not at the grocery store, not at work, not even at church. I was ashamed, hurt, and humiliated. It was after that day not so long ago when one of my sisters called me, sobbing so hard I could barely understand the awful message she was telling me. He’s been arrested, she was saying. We need to go tell Mom. Oh, God, no. Please, please, no. How can this even be real? But it was real. RELATED: Tragedy Changes You, But it Doesn’t Have To Ruin You...

Keep Reading

My Daddy Is In the Arms of Jesus

In: Grief, Loss
Grown daughter walking with older father

My daddy went home to the arms of Jesus just a few short days before Christmas. My family was given the greatest gift of time with him individually to speak the words they needed him to hear and to listen to the words he wanted to say. It was a gift we are beyond grateful for because we know not everyone has that time with their loved ones before they go, especially now. So, yes, I am grateful, but I miss him. I awoke this morning with a dance happening in my heart. The dance of grief and joy. I...

Keep Reading

Even Though You Left Too Soon, You Gave Me Hope

In: Grief, Loss, Motherhood
Early sonogram image

This was the fifth time I’d seen those two pink lines letting me know that a baby was on the way, but I only had one child to show for it, so I’d learned to damper my happiness and excitement. Each miscarriage brought its own unique flavor—one was marked by anxiety, another anger, deep sadness, and then apathy. I’d learned not to get too close to a pregnancy, but this time I leaned into it in a way I hadn’t before. There was a tender and growing elation, and I felt immediate love and gratitude. Sure, there was no telling...

Keep Reading

We Picked up Our Daughter’s Ashes Yesterday

In: Grief, Loss, Motherhood
Mother holding decorative urn in baby's room, color photo

We picked up her ashes yesterday . . . our daughter’s ashes. Though the funeral home was only about an hour away, the trip felt like an eternity. I stared blankly out the window for most of the drive, somewhat calmed by the cocktail of medications I had been placed on and was brought back to reality only by the occasional pain searing through my abdomen. When we arrived, the parking lot was completely empty. Snow lined the edges of the lot, and the sun shone all too brightly. We had assumed the funeral director would be there to greet...

Keep Reading

The Hardest Prayer I Ever Prayed

In: Cancer, Grief, Loss, Motherhood
Bald-headed little girl in hospital bed with her mama, color photo

Trigger warning: Child loss I had a plan for summertime fun with my children. We had just returned from a week-long road trip to the Grand Canyon. I intentionally planned to fill the rest of the summer with activities that would chase away boredom. Craft supplies had been purchased, day trips had been planned, and we were just beginning a week of Vacation Bible School. Excitement was in the air! Yet a tiny nagging fear kept resurfacing: Was there something wrong with my 2-year-old? Ever since she turned two back in the fall, she had become fussy. Our healthy, happy...

Keep Reading

My Mom Passed away and I Don’t Know Who I Am Anymore

In: Grief, Loss
Mother and daughter on a carousel ride, older color photo

For the last sixteen months of her life, I was one of my mother’s primary caregivers, and now that she’s gone, I feel lost. My beautiful, strong, hilarious, and fun-loving mom not only survived but thrived after a heart attack and open-heart surgery at age 67. So 10 years later, we were all surprised to learn that the aortic aneurysm with which she had lived for over a decade had expanded to dangerous territory. We were told she would soon die without another risky open-heart surgery. The one thing my mother feared more than going into surgery was death. Her...

Keep Reading

Dear Dad, I Pray for Our Healing

In: Faith, Grief, Grown Children
Back shot of woman on bench alone

You are on my mind today. But that’s not unusual. It’s crazy how after 13 years, it doesn’t feel that long since I last saw you. It’s also crazy that I spend far less time thinking about that final day and how awful it was and spend the majority of the time replaying the good memories from all the years before it. But even in the comfort of remembering, I know I made the right decision. Even now, 13 years later, the mix of happy times with the most confusing and painful moments leaves me grasping for answers I have...

Keep Reading