For just a couple months, what feels like just a moment now, I held my third baby. It was hard to let go.

A few months ago, my husband and I found out we were expecting our third child. It came as a shock since we had been told just a few weeks before that we would most likely never conceive another child. But here we were, surprised and anxious and excited, and we couldn’t wait until we could share the news. But that day wouldn’t come. Instead, we would have to share the news that we had a baby, and that we had lost it.

It’s hard to know how and what to share about our experience. In my grief, I knew I wanted to share because it was something that I wanted to be able to freely talk about. It was a way that I wanted to honor the brief life of our child. I had a baby that this world will never know.

I trust God, the giver of life. And I trust the story that He is writing in this, too.

I would later find out that the week I had lost the baby was the same week that I taught at our women’s retreat through Hebrews 12:1-2. In that time, I taught that the race set before us may not always be what we would have chosen or planned. When I said that, I thought of my friend who had just lost her dad that week. I looked out at the women listening and thought of all the things they had endured in their lives. But I didn’t realize how timely it would be for me. Little did I know that a race was being laid before me that I would need to run.

I pray that I have and will run this race faithfully.

I miss my baby.

Selah.