From the ends of the earth I cry to You, when my heart is overwhelmed. Lead me to the rock that is higher than me.

As I carefully told my story, first out of necessity because my clients deserved answers about my absence, the reality settled in more. Other women openly and humbly shared their stories, letting me know that I was not alone. Those precious stories, welcoming my own, painted a trail of tears in my mind - a trail covered by the grace of God. So much pain and loss and grief resurfaced. He heard the stories and was present in every conversation. It still sounded bizarre to say from my own lips and felt even more cryptic.

I’d had a miscarriage. Four pregnancies, resulting in healthy, gorgeous little humans - then I had a miscarriage.

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December 25, 2021. I had never seen this family so excited. Mom was overjoyed. Kinnard was speechless. The kids were shocked to tears. We were getting a new baby. I was only 7 weeks, but this was the perfect time to tell them. No one knew the contents of that little red gift box until now. I love handing out surprises and the anticipation was making them crazy. “The best gifts come in the smallest packages,” I would say when they inquired about the box. I had already seen an ultrasound, heard the tiny heartbeat, and we had another August due date. I had managed to pull off the perfect surprise under the noses of six very clever, but unsuspecting people. I still have footage of the euphoric big reveal, but my heart can’t handle watching it these days.

January 6, 2022. We were at least three more weeks away from announcing the good news when the dreaded pandemic finally made its way to our doorstep. It was a little unnerving but all seemed well. I called the doc on the 7th to get a few pointers along with a couple of suggestions for otc meds. He didn’t seem overly worried so I followed his lead. I found some COVID moms on the BabyCenter app and they all seemed to be doing well too. My growing concerns were put to rest.

January 8, 2022. By Saturday we could barely contain the joy as we were just about a week from making the announcement, but who knew a tiny little spot would be just enough to sober us all the way up. But this could be anything, right? I’d seen spotting before and it was nothing to worry about. But honestly, the thought did linger in the back of my COVID-fogged mind. “Even if something happens the Lord is still good……right?” I didn't know whether I was asking a question or making a statement when I mentioned it to Kinnard, but I had to get whatever it was out of my head. For the rest of the night I tried to focus on truth with gospel music…along with binge watching The Maid on Netflix throughout the next day.

Covid had wiped me out. Nothing life-threatening but the fatigue was relentless. I took the rest…I kinda had no choice. I started to regain some strength by Sunday night, as I watched the rest of the crew get taken down one by one. Kinnard and Croix were the next casualties - and you know the guys fall hard.

We were quite a sight. I mean, if “Temporarily-Out-of-Service” was a family, it was us. COVID test boxes lying around. Blankets and tissues scattered everywhere. Med bottles rolled under sofas. No menus or regular eating schedules. Sleeping on demand. But hey, we were getting antibodies for about the cost of a good cold, so I wasn’t complaining. We had a couple of laughs as we examined the mess that we had become.

We all managed to make it through another night. Then Monday came. It was a step in the right direction for some of us. I had a little more energy. Phoe and Jo were trying their best to stay out of reach. Summer was plummeting. Meds for her. A nap here and there, and she was stable. More store runs. More stuff delivered to our doorstep by sweet friends. Around midnight, we grabbed up some blankets and the meds and cued up The Karate Kid for some sweet time with Croix. The girls were already out for the night.

My biggest break came Tuesday when I awoke and instantly realized my COVID symptoms were GONE. And strangely enough, I felt like my pregnancy symptoms were too. The nausea was gone. No bloating. No sore boobs. I mentioned to Kinnard, “I don’t feel pregnant.”