This Grief is a Disease

Oh, I miss my little boy. I miss him so bad it hurts. It’s an indescribable hurt – it’s not unbearable, but it is a feeling you can’t explain. You have to have felt it yourself to know what it’s like, and oh, how I wish that no one else would ever have to feel this ache again.

Who knew stillbirths were so common? Why don’t people talk about it? Statistics range from 1 in every 115 to 1 in every 160 births resulting in stillbirth, between 25,000 and 28,000 babies a year. THAT MANY BABIES! And people don’t talk about it?! Well, I’m going to talk about it.

I am a mother of a stillborn baby. His name was Maddox. He was mine. He was loved. He was wanted. He had a mommy and a daddy, two dogs and a home. He had a nanny, a pop-pop, a big momma and a glammy who loved him. He had a nursery filled with clothes and toys and gifts from family and friends who couldn’t wait to watch him grow.

Now though, he is in heaven. “Not everybody gets a baby in heaven” – that brings some comfort. It makes me long for heaven, gives a joyful anticipation for the day I get to be reunited with my son. Another comfort can be found in Psalm 139:13-16. God formed ANDREW in his mother’s womb, ME in my mother’s womb, MADDOX in my womb. We were not hidden from Him and in His book all the days of our lives were written. God’s ways are sovereign. He brought us together and He allowed us to be separated now. He has a purpose for this. There is a reason. I don’t know what it is, but God does. I will remain faithful because God’s love is steadfast and He does not change.

This grief feels like a disease. It’s an incurable disease and it’s happened to me. There’s treatment, the symptoms can be relieved, but there is no cure. I will suffer the effects of this infirmity from now until the day I die. There will be good days and bad days, but I will never be whole on this side of heaven. I will need help dealing with the effects of this illness – from God most of all, from my husband and from my dearest family and friends. Though I will feel equally a burden and burdened at times and despite the devastating effects of my illness, I will know that I am blessed.

"I will walk by faith even when I cannot see, because this broken road prepares Your will for me."

Those words have never had more meaning for me than now.