If there's one thing I've taken from my journey to parenthood so far, it's not to ask people when they will be having kids.
I've started to consider my miscarriage as a thief of joy. I don't mean that I don't encounter happiness, or have joyful moments. More that my overwhelming feeling right now is an absence of joy. A feeling of grief, and an acute awareness of everything I have 'lost'; everything I am missing out on because of the death of my tiny baby.
I'm still not really sure I have any idea how to be 'a Christian'.
I find it easier to draw close to God in times of pain and difficulty. I know this probably sounds weird. It's as if during the good times, life itself is enough to sustain me, but when things get tough I need to search for something more. I need more than life itself just to get me through the day. And I usually look to God.
There's a heavy burden in loss; as though a physical weight has been attached to your body. Every day requires additional effort to carry around all the extra weight. It's exhausting, physically demanding, and - at times - soul destroying.
The moment all the prayers for joy came flooding back to me was around 5 weeks ago. I was standing in the shower, and my whole being was filled with happiness. It felt like everything I'd ever wanted was coming true. Here I was, going about my day, marvelling at the miracle of life. I was growing a tiny human.
I'll be honest. I haven't read all of the bible.