Today is Pregnancy and Infant Loss Remembrance Day. I had planned to post on Facebook today but, in the end, I couldn't bring myself to do it. I did write something though, and I don't want it to go to waste sitting in my google docs, so I guess ya'll on tumblr dot com get it instead.

To anyone reading this who has lost a baby: I see you. You're not as alone as you feel.

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July 24th was one of the best days of my life.

August 27th was one of the worst.

God had finally blessed us with a baby -- and then He took them home just the same.

Early miscarriage is a funny thing. Not many people know yet so, unless you tell them, they’ll never know anything has changed. It’s just you, your empty arms, and your grief. Nothing to see here; just move along.

And it’s not fair. There’s a crib in the basement we never put together, waiting to be used, and clothes from my sisters that my mother stored for years, waiting to be worn, and there they wait still.

We don't talk about it because it hurts and, at the very least, then they can't pity us.

And it’s not right. Every life -- no matter how short -- was a life hand-crafted by God, their brief days ordained by the same One who holds the entire universe in place. And we hide that precious soul away like it’s a dark secret we shouldn’t talk about.

The reality is this: I am a mama, and [husband] is a dad, and we have a baby we love dearly that we won’t get to meet this side of Heaven.

The days we had with our baby were few, but that time wasn't for nothing. That life wasn’t for nothing. Our love for them wasn’t for nothing.

They still matter -- to us, and to God.

So to the baby who never made it into our arms: we loved you then, and we love you still.

And we always will.