When You've Lost a Dream
You prayed for it, you worked for it, you poured yourself into it. You had ideas and expectations of how it would develop, what it would become. And then, just like that, it was gone. Your dream, shattered into a million pieces.
To varying degrees, we've all been there. From small disappointments to life-altering events, everyone experiences the grief of loss. Although it can, grief does not always require tangible, physical loss. Sometimes we grieve the loss of opportunity or hope for the future. And as I've learned, either way, it's a journey.
Indeed, miscarriage - like the loss of any family member - may be accompanied by both types of loss. For couples who hear a heartbeat, maybe even feel a baby move, the loss is certainly tangible. They've lost a growing baby. For us, our baby never began to develop. An unknown, unexplainable chromosomal abnormality prevented our little one from taking shape within my body. So the first part of loss - that of the physical - is less hard on us.
But the second loss - the dream of a future with that baby - that loss is present.
The encouraging thing about the second kind of loss is that it doesn't have to be final. Whether the dream you are mourning is personal or professional, if God has given you a promise for the fulfillment of that desire, then there is hope. The eventual establishment of the dream may take longer than you'd hoped and it may even look different than you expected, but, as I can write from experience, God is faithful to see your dream to fruition.
Now, I do want to make one thing very clear: it is perfectly okay to feel sadness and heartbreak while still trusting in our Father. The two are not mutually exclusive. Trusting that God has a plan, allowing yourself to hope for the good that He has promised, does not make the destruction of your heart's desire any less real or any less painful. So mourn. Mourn the loss of your dream. But mourn as one who has hope.