Words of comfort

Some of you know that I have been pregnant and bleeding. I've had several ultrasounds, looking for a baby, or an ectopic pregnancy, or a blood clot. I found out this morning from a blood test that I miscarried. Even though I'm grateful that it happened early, rather than at 3 mos. along, it is still hard. The following are "words of comfort" I received when I had my last miscarriage, which was 8 years ago this Tuesday.

Dear Child,

It's been only a day since I lost you. Yesterday I had such plans for you and now today you are gone and where you are I cannot go.
You were the answer to our prayers. You should have seen the look in your father's eyes when I told him you were coming. We were so happy. We told everyone you were on your way. You were due on your Grandpa's birthday, which was a comfort as we are still grieving for his loss.
Each morning when I woke, I would stroke my palm across the place where you were growing. Your father teased me about buying maternity clothes before I really needed to. I wanted the whole world to know. Even morning sickness reassured me of your presence.
Whenever I went somewhere, I knew you were with me. It made me complete. I could never get over the miracle that somehow God, and your father and I had created a human life.
Then I lost you.
I'll never forget you. You are my child. You have been part of me. But I miss you, and when I go out now, I feel alone. I don't see life in the same way since I lost you. I walk softer now. Life is more fragile, more precious.
I hope someday I will be able to have another baby, but it will never be the same as it was with you. The feelings I've had with you are separate and unique.
I love you. You will always hold a place in my heart.

Your mother

It must be very difficult
To be a man in grief.
since "men don't cry" and "men are strong"
No tears can bring relief.

It must be very difficult
To stand up to the test
And field calls and visitors
So she can get some rest.

They always ask if she's alright
And what she's going through,
But seldom take his hand and ask,
"My friend, but how are you?"

He hears her crying in the night
And thinks his heart will break.
He dries her tears and comforts her,
But "stays strong" for her sake.

It must be very difficult
To start each day anew
And try to be so very brave-
He lost his baby too.

-Eileen Knight Hagemeister

My life is but a weaving
Between my God and me
I let Him choose the colors
He worketh steadily

Offtimes he worketh sorrow
And I, within my heart,
Forget he sees the pattern
While I see only part.

The dark threads were as needful
In the weaver's skillful hand
As the thread of gold and silver
In the pattern he had planned.

Not 'til the loom is silent
And the shuttles cease to fly
Shall God unroll the canvas
And explain the reason why.