As I stand in the sand, the wind blowing hard in my face, the waves tossing wildly against my legs, I close my eyes and feel the silkiness of her rose petals in my hands; her tiny body was laid to rest on this.  What better bed could I have made for my sweet little girl?  I hold them to my nose, breathing in their soft fragrance one last time.  I pause in this moment and reflect.  This very morning, my dear friend died.  He is with her now.   I remember him.  I remember her.  So much pain yet how at rest my spirit is.  I slowly unfold my fingers and let her go symbolically as the wind snatches the petals and takes them away faster than I could see.  So true to the moment, how death stole my daughter from me. 

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The death of our children, no matter how early in the pregnancy or how many years we had with them, is one of the worst (if not THE worst) pains our heart can bear.  The weight of their absence is always felt, no matter how much time has passed by.  Over a decade ago, I would begin a journey that I never could have imagined I would be able to survive, let alone want to embrace.  Eight miscarriages and one stillborn, yet here I am and thriving more than ever before.  In the depths of heartache, God has given unimaginable strength, and in my brokenness, He has been building a woman that I never could have become on my own. 

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“How can I take all of this pain and use it for your glory Lord?”  That prayer brought me to Stillbirthday.  I sat in awe, going back in forth all day and evening, studying over this International Network.  It seemed too good to be true.  A group with a heart-calling so much like mine???  It was true and June 19th, 2017 I became certified through them as a Birth and Bereavement Doula. 

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