Perspective is a funny thing. There is no way to predict how the pain of now will translate into joy in the future.
When Matt and I lost our first baby to a late first trimester miscarriage, it was -- by far -- the worst thing that had ever happened to me. I didn’t know where to turn or what to think. I had no markers or guideposts to cling to in such grief. The pain was so constant and overwhelming that it seemed certain that others could look at me and see the hole left by the end of my pregnancy. Lost expectations choked me daily and clinging to the fragile hope of a second pregnancy did nothing to ease the drag of days.