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I miscarried a baby in 1984. I was in my first trimester. I too heard all of the “at least” comforts.

I did have two more children, but never got rid of the little white dress with
purple flowers I had hanging in the closet. I didn’t know the gender of my
baby.

I was in prayer one night, twenty-two years later, grieving the loss.
In that moment, I was able to take the little dress out of my closet. As I was
praying, The Lord (in the Spirit) laid my baby in my arms. I wept. I rocked
my baby.

The Lord spoke to my heart and said, “Her name is Anna Elizabeth, and
she has raven hair.”

He allowed me to love on her for a while and then I lifted her to Him and
had a peace I hadn’t known. It wasn’t until many years later that I learned
my great-grandmothers names on one side was “Elizabeth” and on the
other side was “Cinncianna” (Anna).

Wow! I know I will see her one day.

I hope this comforts someone.

Love, Kim

Thanks, Kim, for sharing this beautiful story. And for reminding us that God has not forgotten us or our babies. Much love. Rachel