Our Keepsake Journal is Here! 🎉

October 28, 2019: 

“I’m so sorry,” she said, as she backed away from the machine as if it were a hot stove that burned her hands. The woman took a step toward me, her face dropped in horror, her lip quivering.

I already knew. I knew when I first got pregnant an overwhelming fear came over me that this may not turn out the way we planned. However, we made it past the red zone and that fear subsided.

I knew when I didn’t feel him move as much as my first. I was told not to worry. I heard those same words as she glided the small doppler over my perfect round belly as she tried to find his heartbeat only to hear the whooshing sound from my placenta.

RELATED: And If You Can’t: A Mother’s Love Letter To Her Child in Heaven

I knew as we walked down the hallway to the room with the sonogram machine.

Finally, I knew when I saw his little body on the screen. His back facing me, I didn’t even get to see his perfect face one last time. From the other sonograms I had, I could already see how he looked like his brother yet still so unique, still so much himself.

Even with all I knew, I was still pleading in my head while watching that screen. Please move, please move, please . . . my thoughts were interrupted. “I’m so sorry,” she said as she backed away from the machine as if it were a hot stove that burned her hand.

“There’s no heartbeat?” I whimpered. She shook her head with that same look of horror, her lip still quivering.

I wailed.  

RELATED: Today Was Lost To Grief

Today: 

I do not cry nearly as much as I did. But the tears still come. The ache of those words the doctor spoke still hit me. I used to cry all day long. Now, it’s mostly saved for the night when the world goes quiet. The stars have watched my tears more than any human ever has. I welcome the tears now instead of fighting them like I used to.

You see, I have learned something through mourning. 

Grief is a funny game. Its colors and patterns forever changing. You think you have a handle and then it rips the rug out from your feet. Some days you are in bed with a concrete slab over you and it is hard to wake up; others, you would think nothing ever happened.

Sometimes you know the emotions are about to come on and sometimes they hit you out of nowhere. Like when you were a child and the wind got knocked out of you.

RELATED: Motherhood is Not Reserved For Woman With Babies in Their Arms, Some Mothers Hold Babies in Their Hearts

Suddenly it feels like you are at the top of Mount Everest without an oxygen tank. No matter how many breaths you take, there is simply not enough air to refill your gasping lungs.

Then, there is peace some days or even just moments. Maybe it’s feeling their presence or just having an OK day. It’s knowing that you were lucky enough to love so deeply. A love that can never be replaced or recreated. A love shared between only you and that person.

Greif is so common yet still completely unique. An emotion every human will feel. One that will never go away simply with time.

RELATED: Thank You For Not Forgetting My Child Who Died

However, we learn to live with our grief. We welcome the tears because we know they come from the heart. We can help others on their journey with their companion, grief. It is the emotion that proves we had someone irreplaceable. It is the emotion that makes our souls grow.  

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

Patricia Murphy

Patricia Murphy resides in New York. She and her husband have two children, one living and one angel. She is a senior studying English at SUNY Old Westbury. She hopes, through writing, she is able to help her fellow mamas smile and find hope.

Can I Still Trust Jesus after Losing My Child?

In: Faith, Grief, Loss
Sad woman with hands on face

Everyone knows there is a time to be born and a time to die. We expect both of those unavoidable events in our lives, but we don’t expect them to come just 1342 days apart. For my baby daughter, cancer decided that the number of her days would be so many fewer than the hopeful expectation my heart held as her mama. I had dreams that began the moment the two pink lines faintly appeared on the early morning pregnancy test. I had hopes that grew with every sneak peek provided during my many routine ultrasounds. I had formed a...

Keep Reading

To the Healthcare Workers Who Held My Broken Heart

In: Grief, Loss
Baby hat with hospital certificate announcing stillbirth, color photo

We all have hard days at work. Those days that push our physical, mental, and emotional limits out of bounds and don’t play fair. 18 years ago, I walked into an OB/GYN emergency room feeling like something was off, just weeks away from greeting our first child. As I reflect on that day, which seems like a lifetime ago and also just yesterday, I find myself holding space for the way my journey catalyzed a series of impossibly hard days at work for some of the people who have some of the most important jobs in the world. RELATED: To...

Keep Reading

I Loved You to the End

In: Grief, Living
Dog on outdoor chair, color photo

As your time on this earth came close to the end, I pondered if I had given you the best life. I pondered if more treatment would be beneficial or harmful. I pondered if you knew how much you were loved and cherished As the day to say goodbye grew closer, I thought about all the good times we had. I remembered how much you loved to travel. I remembered how many times you were there for me in my times of darkness. You would just lay right next to me on the days I could not get out of...

Keep Reading

I Hate What the Drugs Have Done but I Love You

In: Grief, Living
Black and white image of woman sitting on floor looking away with arms covering her face

Sister, we haven’t talked in a while. We both know the reason why. Yet again, you had a choice between your family and drugs, and you chose the latter. I want you to know I still don’t hate you. What I do hate is the drugs you always seem to go back to once things get too hard for you. RELATED: Love the Addict So Hard it Hurts Speaking of hard, I won’t sugarcoat the fact that being around you when you’re actively using is so hard. Your anger, your manipulation, and your deceit are too much for me (or anyone around you) to...

Keep Reading

Giving Voice to the Babies We Bury

In: Grief, Loss
Woman looking up to the sky, silhouette at sunset

In the 1940s, between my grandmother’s fourth child and my father, she experienced the premature birth of a baby. Family history doesn’t say how far along she was, just that my grandfather buried the baby in the basement of the house I would later grow up in. This was never something I heard my grandmother talk about, and it was a shock to most of us when we read her history. However, I think it’s indicative of what women for generations have done. We have buried our grief and not talked about the losses we have experienced in losing children through...

Keep Reading

I Asked the Questions and Mother Had the Answers. Now What?

In: Grief, Living, Loss
Older woman smiling at wedding table, black-and-white photo

No one is really ever prepared for loss. Moreover, there is no tutorial on all that comes with it. Whether you’ve lost an earring, a job, a relationship, your mind, or a relative, there is one common truth to loss. Whatever you may have lost . . . is gone. While I was pregnant with my oldest son, my mother would rub my belly with her trembling hands and answer all my questions. She had all the answers, and I listened to every single one of them. This deviated from the norm in our relationship. My mother was a stern...

Keep Reading

A Friend Gone Too Soon Leaves a Hole in Your Heart

In: Friendship, Grief, Loss
Two women hugging, color older photo

The last living memory I have of my best friend before she died was centered around a Scrabble board. One letter at a time, we searched for those seven letters that would bring us victory. Placing our last words to each other, tallying up points we didn’t know the meaning of at the time. Sharing laughter we didn’t know we’d never share again. Back in those days, we didn’t have Instagram or Facebook or Snapchat or whatever other things teenagers sneak onto their phones to capture the moments. So the memory is a bit hazy. Not because it was way...

Keep Reading

Grief Lingers in Hospital Walls

In: Grief, Loss
Hospital hallway

We drive by a hospital. It’s not the one my mother was in, but it still brings the same sting and reminders. It brings pain just looking in the windows, knowing what’s inside. Sickness. Death. Dying. Probably other things too, but my mind doesn’t know those. It knows the devastation of test results, and surgeries, and cancer—my mother’s cancer. It only took 10 seconds to pass that hospital as we drove on the interstate, but the feeling of that view is still sitting with me, just like grief has done since the moment my mother passed. RELATED: The Day She Dies It’s ironic...

Keep Reading

I Hope Heaven Looks like 3128 Harper Road

In: Grief, Living, Loss, Marriage
Husband and wife, posed older color photo

Jeannine Ann Eddings Morris grew up in western Kentucky as the oldest daughter of hard-working parents, who both worked at the Merritt Clothing factory. Jeannine was the oldest of 23 grandchildren who proudly belonged to John B. and Celeste Hardeman. John B. was a well-known preacher who traveled all over the South to share the gospel. Life as a child was as humble as one might expect for the 1940s. Jeannine was the oldest of four children, spanning a 13-year age range. To hear her talk, her childhood and teenage memories consisted of mostly reading every book she could find...

Keep Reading

I Didn’t Know Anxiety until I Knew Grief

In: Grief, Living, Loss, Motherhood
Woman crouched on ground by waterfront

If you had known me for the first 45 years of my life, you would say I was an extrovert. I loved going places, meeting new people, and striking up conversations with all ages. I talk a lot, often sharing too much in the way of being transparent. It’s been said that I have never met a stranger. Yes, I will admit, I am that woman you see in the grocery store line starting up conversations with the people around me. A few years ago, my life started changing, and I struggled with becoming introverted. Though I had once loved...

Keep Reading