Lost and {Hoping to be} Found

December 22, 2014

It’s been nearly three weeks since I wrote on here. Mostly because I have been a bit too overwhelmed to write how I’m feeling. And even typing that makes me want to close the computer.

I’m tired of feeling like this. I don’t know what else to say. I often wish that I could go back to 3 years ago and make the decision to just have Bella – like we were on the verge of doing. I flipped through old pictures on Instagram yesterday – way back to when I wasn’t even pregnant with the twins, and my heart hurt. I saw this girl who was happy. Young. Vibrant.

I don’t even know where she went – or when I lost her. But I hardly recognize her anymore. In fact, by the end I felt so envious of my former self I had to shut off my phone for a while. (hashtag healthy right there y’all)

Then something hit me – there was hardly any Jesus in those pictures. I don’t even remember thinking about my faith a whole lot. A snap of a devotional once in a while. A Bible verse. Would I trade my faith now in for the easier, carefree me? Or the little glimpses of knowing my sons?

Everything is so different. Writing that feels like I’m complaining, but I don’t think I am. Just – struggling.

You know what? I read a saying the other day by Shane Claiborne where he said: “My life was pretty together, then I met Jesus & that messed everything up.”

I totally get that. For some of us, meeting Jesus and deciding that our life is His for the taking isn’t going from bad to wonderful. I know people who have had that experience – it’s incredible to hear about. But my journey has taken me down even further into madness. Sure, this was probably all bound to happen to me whether or not I gave my life fully to Christ. BUT – even my innermost being has changed so much that I spend most of my time wondering if I’m ever going to feel any semblance of normal again. Whatever normal is.

And I hesitate writing that because there will be the well meaning comments from people who do care saying things that pierce my heart like:

  • “It’s been a year and a half now.”
  • “But you have your little girl to think of!”
  • “Some people just want one child.”
  • “You need to count your blessings.”

Dangit. These little grief clichés make my head explode clean off.

cinderella head exploding gif

I do love that gif so very much.

I wish that the people who say these things could understand that ALL of those weigh on me day in and day out. Every moment of every day, those exact thoughts play on repeat in my head. Along with missing my sons and the two different lives I lost with them. My thought process is like being in a prison where the walls are decorated with what could have been, painted across in red letters with “WHY CAN’T YOU JUST BE OK?”

I keep praying. One of my biggest de-stressors is reading the Bible each night before bed. Chapter after chapter. I finish with my eyes barely open, my head full of how Jesus used stories far more painful than mine for his good.

I don’t know where I fit in anymore. I feel more lost and confused after going to Zimbabwe than I did before. The more I study and read, the more I ask why. The more I pray, the more aware I am of how everyone else gets a redeeming story – and not us. Not yet but the fear that grips me is – what if not ever? 

What if I’m walking this path and nothing happens? That is my greatest fear. All of this for – nothing. I pray a thousand times a day that God will show me, clearly and without a doubt, where I fit into this plan. My talents, my time, my experience, the longings and desires he’s placed on my heart. Sometimes I’m so ANGRY because I think, “Haven’t I been through enough? Can’t you hurry this all up and show me what I’m supposed to be doing? You made me this way – so do something.”

I know. That’s my humanity and distrust talking. And impatience. Grant me patience Lord and do it now. 😉

Pray for me? Pray for my mind and understanding this season and in this next year as I ponder where the Lord wants me to go. I stand at the edge of unbelief for my life being used in a way that glorifies Him, helps others, and fulfills my weary heart. It seems like this will never end – and I long for a time when the grip of confusion loosens it’s hold on me.


  • Rhonda Rose Galyean

    July 8, 2015 at 2:48 am

    I just came across this post. You are a beautiful writer. I, too have three children in Heaven. Each time, friends, family and other well meaning folks gave us the same "grief clichés." After one particularly bad day, I blew up with my frustration at this. My dear husband explained it this way: It is a person's nature to say things to make themselves feel better. No one can fathom losing a child. It is not the natural order of things. So, in order to insulate themselves, folks say these things. He is right. They mean well, but do not know what to say. So now, this is all I ever say to parents suffering a loss: I'm sorry.

  • Sandy Maples Cheney

    January 21, 2015 at 6:03 pm

    I have just found your blog and this post has touched me. I can tell you from experience that God does use these hard times is our lives into something beautiful. My daughter in law and son had a similar story and there were so many sad days. I remember one day screaming at God saying he was mean. My DIL and son would make the perfect parents. There were horrible people able to have children all over the place and God was not letting them have just one. Well 8 years later they adopted one had 2 biological and adopted 3 from Ethiopia. God is so faithful, even in the times when we are sad and mad at him. I am praying for you today!

  • Frances Baker Engle

    December 28, 2014 at 4:57 am

    We put so much pressure on ourselves. As if it is somehow up to us to wring strength and meaning out of our heartbreak and loss. Like we might screw up that somehow, too. I don't have a solution, but I know there is a getter way out there

  • Vickie

    December 27, 2014 at 2:05 pm

    Thank you for writing TRUTH! Not sugarcoating anything but being REAL. I too wonder if my journey is for nothing. I havent lost any children but I have been sick and undiagnosed for 18 years. I have so many regrets because of this. It’s like my life stopped 18 years ago. But now that I am indeed 18 years older none of my hopes and dreams will ever be realized. Am I one of the ones God forgot about. What is the purpose in all of this? Why does it have to be this way? How can God get any glory from this? Does anyone have any answers for those of us still wandering in the desert which seems like forever.

  • Tanya

    December 24, 2014 at 12:48 am

    The next time you wonder why you can’t be “OK”, realize this…you ARE OK! If you weren’t feeling all these things, THAT would be something to worry about! I’m so sorry you have to feel like this, but feeling like this IS ok for someone who has had your experiences. And you are the only one who has had those exact experiences, so your reactions are OK! No one else is you, so no one else can tell you how to BE.
    I don’t know if that makes sense… but I’m sure you are where you need to be right now. I just pray for you that OK soon means feeling better and more at peace!

  • Paulina

    December 23, 2014 at 8:08 am

    We lost our Evan almost 3 years ago at 36 weeks, he was our third (after 2 miscarriages). After him Ethan and Jason were born but I can’t tell you how much I struggle with those same feelings. Guilt, because I think I should be over his death, I have two healthy boys after all. Guilt, because I miss him and because some days are hard with the boys. I sometimes think if I were really thankful for my boys I wouldn’t miss him so much. 3 years and 2 babies later it still hurts and I still miss him and the Holidays are so very hard! I don’t have answers for you or for me but I understand how you feel. So many thoughts, so many feelings and the fear of it all being in vain. Sending love your way!

  • Nellie

    December 23, 2014 at 7:13 am

    My heart aches for you. Your emotions speak volumes to my heart. Your writing is a priceless and rare gift to us who read it. You and your family are in my thoughts and prayers and many times I find myself thinking about you, even though I don’t know you. The loss you have suffered is tremendous and one that can never be “over it.” You learn to walk through life with it and those who do not understand have a lot to learn about it.

  • amandahoyt

    December 23, 2014 at 7:08 am

    So much love coming your way, Diana. Always.
    Remembering your precious sons, Preston+Julian & Kaden.
    Love you

  • Becky @ bybmg

    December 23, 2014 at 6:41 am

    Say it, girl. You need to, and people need to hear how you’re feeling to know that whatever they’re feeling is ok, too. If anything, you just help people feel less alone and understand that it’s ok to question and be upset. I’m praying for you.

  • Stefanie Miller

    December 23, 2014 at 6:39 am

    Also, I am praying for you. I think it is hard to see what He is doing in others when your heart is still so broken. Praying you feel His peace and presence near you.

  • Stefanie Miller

    December 23, 2014 at 6:38 am

    No matter what does or doesn't happen from here, Diana, He is using you, Julian, Preston and Kaden to bring others closer to Him. There is a purpose through your pain, and I imagine it is more than you will ever know. You and your boys have touched many hearts and continue to.

  • Gilda

    December 22, 2014 at 9:42 pm

    Your babies are remembered and loved by so many…no need to justify why it has been this long or that long and you are still not “OK”, whatever OK means for other people. You are constantly in my prayers and many times I’ve asked “why?” on your behalf. The Lord is using you in ways you don’t even know, because you have touched so many lives you don’t even know, with a a testimony full of grace, sorrow, hope and a faith that you cling to with all of your being. The small beginnings of your babies ARE precious and full of purpose even if sorrowfully not in your arms right now. Hang in there sister, one confusing, not being OK, fearful day at a time.

  • Sally Puckett-Whitaker

    December 23, 2014 at 4:41 am

    Oh, Diana, you HAVE been through enough. It isn't easy for any of us, but your road has been especially rough and rocky. I will pray for you to find a peaceful path.

  • Carolyn Cheeseman

    December 23, 2014 at 4:29 am

    Oh friend, I will pray for you. For all of you. You're such a strong woman. I'm so sorry for all your suffering. Please know that I pray for you and think of you often xoxo

  • angelaamman

    December 22, 2014 at 9:22 pm

    I just wanted to leave a few words to let you know your words are heard, and you are in my heart — and prayers — often.

  • Elise N Hoffman

    December 23, 2014 at 2:58 am

    Things are already happening. This is not for nothing. Read your last few posts. Read the comments. God is doing things through you. You may not feel it, but try to KNOW it, anyway. And don't just be patient with God. Be patient with yourself, too.

  • Aimee

    December 22, 2014 at 5:57 pm

    I haven’t lost any children but I can sympathize. I have always had some sort of faith, but a few years into our marriage, my husband I finally found real Faith. We found a church that supported us, and we gave our lives to Jesus. I remember this feeling of finally feeling like we were on the right path. Prior to, we had moved and bought a house. It was just this amazing feeling of rightness. And then we felt God was telling us to start a family. I was scared to have children, but I put my faith in the Lord’s hands.

    And then, unbeknownst to us, our first son was born with severe special needs. He ended up in the NICU after 3 days and didn’t come home until he was 2 weeks old. I had to quickly grieve the “child” I lost. The one who would sleep, and not scream all day long. The one who wouldn’t have me running back and forth to doctor appts all day long. The one who would be meeting milestones instead of me rehashing to every doctor exactly what was wrong with him. all this, while trying to care for the son I WAS given. The son I still wasn’t sure I wanted. A son I would have to care for, for the rest of my life. There was a lot of “Why Me?” cries.

    After about 6 months, I finally found some solace and some meaning and felt like I was back on the path with God. When my oldest was about a year old we had our final meeting with genetics. They told us there was one last test, but it was a shot in the dark. Since all the testing had been negative this was probably something rare and a fluke since there was no family history. We agreed to do the last test and it would take 6 months to get back.

    In the meantime my husband wanted another baby. Again I was fearful but after lots of prayer I felt God was telling us to expand our family. It took us quite a while to get pregnant with our first so I figured I had time to accept it. Well, wouldn’t you know. One time got me pregnant. On my 27th birthday my husband told me to take a pregnancy test and much to my shock! it was positive. The next day our geneticist called back and said that our oldest son had this rare disorder. But, since we had no family history of it chances were slim to none that I would be a carrier.

    4 weeks later the test results confirmed that I am the genetic lottery millionaire and I DO carry this mutation. The baby in my womb had a 50/50 chance of having it.

    Despite multiple ultrasounds that said otherwise, our second son was also born with severe special needs.

    I still struggle. I feel so, hmm, i don’t even know if i can put it in words. I feel like, “God, how come before i gave myself to you, I seemed to know who I was and where I was headed? Now, I feel so lost. So unsure. It seems that the more right I feel with you, the more unsure I feel in life. I listened to what you said to me, I trusted you for everything and now I’m not even sure which end is up. Who am I? Where am I? Where am I supposed to go now? I don’t feel I belong here, much less anywhere.”

    I am so angry still at the futures that were taken away from me. All those children I saw running through the house, playing with toys, riding bikes, calling me Mama, have vanished. I’m not sure we can adopt with the needs our two have, and I’m not sure I could mentally/emotionally handle IVF and PGD and uncertainty.

    So, hugs. Big hard creep internet hugs.

    1. rberger6

      December 23, 2014 at 8:51 am

      Hugs to you, mama.

  • Marisa Toomey

    December 22, 2014 at 4:41 pm

    Praying Diana! Hugs!

  • Sarah

    December 22, 2014 at 2:49 pm

    Try not to worry it was all for nothing, for already there has been good fruit. You said yourself that all this has brought you much closer to the Lord. While I would not wish your pain on anyone, and your journey is hard to understand, it is not for nothing. Hang in there!

  • Deirdre

    December 22, 2014 at 2:10 pm

    No cliches here. Just know I LOVE you. I don’t know you but I love your words, your faith, your passion, your strength, your venerability, your honesty. I don’t know what any of it means. It all sucks, just utterly sucks. Your pain is just unreal but at the same time so is your faith and I love the beauty and pain together. I thank you for sharing this for all the world to see. Know we all hear you. Know we all love you. And go ahead and let your little princess head explode in a glittery mess off your shoulders. You deserve that.

  • Stephanie Bertiaux

    December 22, 2014 at 9:10 pm

    I lost one-just one-baby 3 years ago. And when I hear about an acquaintance who has another baby, I can't help think why they got one, and not me.

  • » Lost and {Hoping to be} Found

    December 22, 2014 at 1:30 pm

    […] It’s been nearly three weeks since I wrote on here. Mostly because I have been a bit too overwhelmed to …read more       […]

  • Jennifer Jopp

    December 22, 2014 at 1:26 pm

    Loss is hard. There is no magic timetable for grief. My husband and I miscarried two babies this year. I wonder many of the same things as you – why do other people get their happy ending and not me? Will God ever bring redemption to our story? Will I lose more babies? I have living children and I’m so thankful for them but I miss my babies and will always grieve their loss. I’m trying so hard to trust God and be patient, but it’s difficult. After our second miscarriage, I spent some time really hating God and doubting His existence. I came to the conclusion that I’d rather surrender it to Him and let Him use my loss for good somehow, but I struggle with that daily. I don’t want their deaths to mean nothing, but I don’t see yet how He can turn such horrible pain into something good. I have a lot of questions and fears. I’m trying to learn to trust God and be patient but it’s been a difficult journey.

  • Jennifer Jopp

    December 22, 2014 at 8:22 pm

    Loss is hard. There is no magic timetable for grief. My husband and I miscarried two babies this year. I wonder many of the same things as you – why do other people get their happy ending and not me? Will God ever bring redemption to our story? Will I lose more babies? I have living children and I'm so thankful for them but I miss my babies and will always grieve their loss. I'm trying so hard to trust God and be patient, but it's difficult. After our second miscarriage, I spent some time really hating God and doubting His existence. I came to the conclusion that I'd rather surrender it to Him and let Him use my loss for good somehow, but I struggle with that daily. I don't want their deaths to mean nothing, but I don't see yet how He can turn such horrible pain into something good. I have a lot of questions and fears. I'm trying to learn to trust God and be patient but it's been a difficult journey.

  • Melissa Groven

    December 22, 2014 at 1:10 pm

    Authentic and real. That’s the kind of writer you are, and it’s attractive and beautiful. Your struggle matters, and the struggle sucks to be sure. I hear you on the clichés…I myself am done with Christian clichés as well. There is room for questions, struggle, doubt, wondering, and authenticity with God. And you are a refreshing, faith-filled voice offering freedom to others to wrestle and be real. Praying that He provides what you need.

  • morningmotivatedmom

    December 22, 2014 at 12:54 pm

    As I follow your journey, I constantly get lumps in my throat just trying to imagine all the emotions you must feel. I will pray for you. That God will give you what you need. Clarity, patience, peace? Continued comfort?

  • Missy Lee

    December 22, 2014 at 7:51 pm

    You have had experienced such intense grief over the last few years, and while I don't know you, I certainly feel for you and your family. It's inspiring to see your writings and faith despite such hard circumstances. So while you may feel like you just aren't doing well, please know that sharing your hardship and continuing to have faith is so inspiring and really shows so much strength. Praying for you and yours.

  • denise

    December 22, 2014 at 12:38 pm

    http://www.summitrdu.com/messages/?enmse=1&enmse_mid=393. I don’t know if this link will work or not, but you can go to summitrdu.com and the latest message is “The fear of hopelessness.” I don’t even pretend to feel what you are feeling to or understand it but my heart breaks for you. This sermon might help or it might not. My favorite part was his quote by Tolkien, “Everything sad is going to come untrue.” Not that I think a seven word sentence will make your hurt and pain go away, but maybe it will give you a distant, vague, glimmer of hope. Prayers going up for you and your family.

  • Cheri

    December 22, 2014 at 12:37 pm

    “I pray a thousand times a day that God will show me, clearly and without a doubt, where I fit into this plan.”

    If there is one thing I have learned about my life with God is that His messages are rarely clear, and He can’t give them without a doubt because were blessed with free will. Our doubt is our own, trying to figure out if what we are feeling and hearing are what we really want – rather then what God has tried to lead you to.

    Your journey has not been for not. I know that your words have comforted other’s in their times of loss. They look to you to see how you have handled your losses. You are real, the joy, the pain – the realness. In my book that makes you almost like shepherd leading other lost ones by your words so that they know that they are not alone.

    Your path is not lost either, even if ‘this is all it is’ because you are an extraordinary person. Maybe it’s time to find a completely different map? Maybe you need to find another compass? Maybe you are on the right path, but so intent on looking 3 miles down the road, that you have no sight for the things that you are passing? Maybe, if you stop walking – you will hear what you are meant to?

  • Alaina J

    December 22, 2014 at 12:35 pm

    I can relate. After our first, I had 2 losses back to back. One was a preterm birth at 15 weeks. Now, 3.5 years and 2 babies and another miscarriage later, I am still. So. Angry. So tired and overwhelmed and terrified at times. I am not a fun, hopeful, carefree mama. It’s not the same, but it helps to know I’m not the only one. I mourn the loss of that mama my oldest knew for her first year. Like you, my faith was not alive back then, though, so there is hope in the fact that it is now. I pray for you, and think of you often. May you make it through the day without hearing a single awful grief cliché. Love to you all.

  • Sarah Wilson

    December 22, 2014 at 12:21 pm

    Won’t make any cliches, just know that you are on our minds & hearts and we hurt for & want answers for you too. Much l Iove to you this holiday season & in the new year to come.

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