Joy in the Mourning | Finding joy after baby loss by Kelly Griffin

ARTICLE BY KELLY GRIFFIN


Joy in the mourning. Is that even a real thing? How can that be possible after suffering the loss of a child? How could I possibly laugh again, have fun with my other kids, celebrate holidays and birthdays without being in constant pain and agony? I asked myself all of these questions after my husband and I learned that our son, Reeves, had been conceived with the life limiting diagnosis of Trisomy 18. I couldn’t imagine meeting our son, saying goodbye and ever smiling again. I was so scared that I would be a shell of the person I was before the diagnosis. I remember a friend sending me Psalm 30:5 shortly after receiving our devastating news. “...weeping may stay for the night, but rejoicing comes in the morning.” If I’m honest, I’m pretty sure I scoffed when I read that verse. I loved Jesus deeply and trusted His plans, even the one that I knew would bring unspeakable pain, but joy? Rejoicing? No way. Not possible. And yet the Bible, the book I was staking my life on, said it would be so. 

In the last 18 months, I’ve come to learn that weeping and rejoicing are not mutually exclusive. I’ve always read Psalm 30:5 and thought that there was a time for grieving, for sorrow, for weeping. And then one day that part is over and boom, there’s joy again! Prior to Reeves, I had never had anything wound me so deeply to understand that sorrow and joy can very much run parallel in my heart. There may be seasons where one of those emotions has a bigger part in the story, but the other is always near, if we allow ourselves to see it. 

If you’re struggling to find joy amidst your sadness and pain, I understand. While there have been times that joy has come naturally for me, most of the time it’s been a choice I’ve had to make, and sometimes it’s been a hard-fought battle. But meditating on the following truths have helped me to know and believe that there truly can be joy in the mourning.

I can have joy because I was chosen to be Reeves’ mama. God found it fit that me, and only me, would be the perfect one to love, care for and cherish my son. It’s an incredible honor to have been the chosen vessel for his sweet body and soul. I got to play an integral part in giving him life and ushering his soul into eternity. It was not without pain, but it was a high calling and for that I am thankful. 

I can have joy because God has given me the capacity to love someone so deeply and unconditionally that to lose that person tore me apart. Had there not been great love, there wouldn’t have been great sorrow. I am grateful that I was able to mirror the love God has for us to my son.

I can have joy because Reeves’ life and death have opened up conversations with our other children about death, heaven and eternity. We got to invite our children into praying for Reeves’ healing and listen as they cried out to God on their brother’s behalf. And even when our prayers were not answered the way we would have hoped, we got to remind them of God’s faithfulness. We talk often about what Reeves might be doing in heaven and how amazing it is there. It’s given us all an eager anticipation of getting to experience it one day. 

I can have joy that God loves me and is faithful and good in all things. He entered my darkest days and grieved alongside me. At times it felt overwhelming that the God of the universe, who has billions of people under His loving care, was intimately acquainted with my grief and came running to my side when I called. Who am I that He would desire to walk with me through my pain and sorrow? But as Scripture reminds me, I am His child and He promises to offer Himself to those who ask. What joy in knowing that He loves us so deeply and cares about every detail of our lives. 

I can have joy knowing that Reeves’ is experiencing the ultimate joy. He is not wanting for anything. During the first year after losing our son, I felt most connected to him in my sadness and pain. The many tears that were shed were drops of love that I could not give Reeves personally. My heart would ache so intensely at times that I felt physically ill. It’s easy to feel guilty for experiencing joy or gladness, as if somehow that erases the pain we have felt and continue to feel. And even worse, that it may somehow tell the world that we are “over” the loss of our child. But I’ve come to have a different perspective in recent months. I’ve been reminded that Reeves knows only love, peace and joy. Really, all the fruit of the Holy Spirit! So when I am also filled with love, joy, and peace, even though imperfectly, I’m actually experiencing more of what Reeves is living out than when my heart aches. And I’ve come to love that. It’s made me want to choose joy when I can because that’s when my boy and I are invisibly walking hand in hand, with hearts of gladness, filled by our Creator.

And finally, I can have joy because I believe I will see Reeves again one day. Right now, we are separated by time and space but there will be a day when we meet again face to face and I will see my precious son’s eyes for the first time. And nothing will ever separate us again. As a believer in Jesus Christ, there is a promise of eternity for those who love Him – Jesus is our living hope! (1 Peter 1:3) Because of His sacrifice on the Cross, He made a way for all mankind to have a relationship with God the Father by taking the penalty that we deserved for our sins. And while Jesus took our punishment, He also gave us His inheritance – a home in heaven for eternity for those who put their trust in Him. And because our little ones were not able to consciously make that decision, I believe that in God’s mercy, He has allowed Christ’s blood to cover them as well. As a parent there is no greater joy that I have, apart from my own salvation, than to see my children trust and follow Christ. And to know that one of them is already experiencing the fullness of God’s grace brings inexplicable joy to my hurting heart. 


MEET KELLY

In November 2019, we were ecstatic to find out that we were pregnant with our 4th child. However, it started rocky with low progesterone, followed by the appearance of choroid plexus cyst at our anatomy scan. At a follow up sono, they also found a heart defect and less than 2 weeks later, our world was shattered by a Trisomy 18 diagnosis at 25 weeks. We began weekly doctor visits to our MFM and on July 2, we delivered our precious boy, Reeves Joshua Griffin, via an unplanned c section. While we had been told we may have just a few short hours with Reeves, the Lord blessed us with 2.5 amazing days with him. Reeves met his Creator the morning of July 5 and the best day of his life became the worst one of mine. Since that time, our family has been grieving and healing as we rely on the Lord for all of our needs. He was so present and faithful during our pregnancy and Reeves' short life and continues to draw near as we navigate life without our precious son.

Much more of our story is documented in the blog I kept. We share of God's faithfulness to us in the darkest season of our lives.