Indeed

Last Easter, I wrote about Angelina’s hope of walking with Jesus and the promise we have in the resurrection.  In that post I shared the first verse from This Joyful Eastertide:

This joyful Eastertide
Away with sin and sorrow!
My love, the Crucified,
Has sprung to life this morrow:
Had Christ, who once was slain,
Not burst His three-day prison,
Our faith had been in vain:
But now has Christ arisen, arisen, arisen;
But now has Christ arisen!

I concluded that post with “He is risen and we walk with Him”, not knowing that before the next Easter came, we would gain and lose a child who is now walking with Jesus.

Right now, I should be in the final trimester for our 5th child, our third biological child, but I am not.  My ankles should be swollen, I should be able to balance a teacup on my stomach, and my sleep should be interrupted by tummy acrobat antics. Strangers should be striking up conversations in the grocery store about when I’m due and if we know what we are having.  My children should be eagerly awaiting the arrival of a new sibling, helping decorate the nursery, and squabbling over names.  But none of that is happening.

Last October, during a truly terrifying month in which Roman was hospitalized for a week (he is doing okay now), I miscarried near the end of my first trimester. Ultrasound and lab work at the hospital indicated the child had stopped growing weeks before.

In the months that followed, I learned that miscarriage is a unique type of grief, just like grief when a loved one has dementia or a brain injury is a unique type of grief, or how infertility is a unique sort of grief. From listening to other women share their stories, I’ve come to see miscarriage grief as something that lingers and lies dormant, something that is hard to find closure with, something you must honor if you wish to keep your self.

All this was on my mind as I cried through This Joyful Eastertide this year on Easter morning:

Death’s flood has lost its chill
Since Jesus crossed the river,
Lover of souls, from ill
My passing soul deliver
Had Christ, who once was slain,
Not burst His three-day prison,
Our faith had been in vain;
But now has Christ arisen, arisen, arisen;
But now has Christ arisen!

My flesh in hope shall rest
And for a season slumber
Till trump from east to west
Shall wake the dead in number
Had Christ, who once was slain,
Not burst His three-day prison,
Our faith had been in vain;
But now has Christ arisen, arisen, arisen;
But now has Christ arisen!

We are certainly still in the season of grieving and healing, a season of hoping and waiting. Waiting to see if God will bless us with another child. Waiting to meet our lost child. Waiting for the day of resurrection.

We named our child Enoch; he walks with Jesus, who is risen.

He is risen indeed!

Alleluia!

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3 comments on “Indeed

  1. As my eyes fill with tears reading this, I know you will have another child and the timing will be perfect. You will be blessed again and God will see it is good. You have a heart so large and caring that I can’t doubt this. I love you Hannah and pray for you all.

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