On a mild spring day, I paced back and forth in the newly green grass while on a phone call. A friend’s words stopped me in my tracks. She spoke of a mutual friend: “She’s been trying for a baby for ten years. At least you can get pregnant.”
I had lost three babies in a year, with none in my arms, and these words, though spoken to encourage, sent a shock wave of pain to my heart. I was weary of these kinds of statements from fellow believers: “At least it was early” or “You’ll have another baby.” For those of us who have miscarried, these comments feel as if someone has crumpled up the lives of our babies like a piece of paper and thrown them in the trash. Their words diminish the value of our unborn children and invalidate our grief.
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