Miriam Grace Jacoby is my grandbaby. As difficult as the holidays were this year, her stillbirth highlighted exactly why Jesus became incarnate — to conquer death at the root of the problem.
On December 22, 2014, I gave birth to a little girl. She died before she made it into my arms.
She was due today.
One of the things I hate about having a personal blog (or any social media) is having to share moments like these. Part of me wants to skip over it, but that seems crass. I don’t want to give readers the impression that my baby’s birth didn’t affect me profoundly, or that I’m exactly the same person I was before. I’d like to go on from the present as though everyone already knows the context.
But pretending won’t work here. I also can’t bring myself retell my story by writing a separate post. That might have worked a couple of weeks ago, but now I’ve healed enough that I don’t really want to open that wound again. So I’m just transcribing a few excerpts from my handwritten journal. It’s personal, unpolished…
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