MM note: I attempted to contact Catherine, but I hadn’t heard back by the time I published this post, but I just had to share her work. Her follow up post is great as well. Please check out her site! Catherine, if you read this, please let me know if this is kosher. Readers, go support Catherine!

by Catherine Gale

This story begins with a star.

It is the story of a little girl.

This little girl is our daughter, and she lives in heaven.


On the 23rd February we should have heard her heartbeat for the first time.

On that day we should have come home and made happy calls to friends and family to tell them our news. To make it known that she was there and to make our joy public.

Instead we found out that she had died at 8 weeks and 5 days, and our world came crashing down.

There are no words to describe the emptiness and lack, the horrible grief and the loss of hope.


But first, the star. For months beforehand, we both had a sense about stars. A feeling.

When we found out I was pregnant, we both knew it was a girl.

We had another name picked for a girl, but it somehow didn’t feel right for this one. I looked at lots of names, and there was one that stood out. It meant star.


Fast forward to that 12 week scan when all our plans and dreams came crashing down.

The doctors did their best to reassure us that miscarriage is very common, that there is nothing we could have done to prevent it: that there is no reason we can’t go on to have a healthy baby. In the midst of it, all I could think was – But we wanted this one

I asked God why we had had such a sense of who this baby was –her gender, her name, if it wasn’t going to work out.

But now I know it was because of that, that he told us. So that we would know who she is.

I say ‘is’ and not ‘was’ because I know with every fibre of my being that she is in heaven.

I picture a little blonde girl with my blue eyes and Matt’s wisdom. I saw a vision of my Dad holding her. She is waiting to meet us.


The storm is not over yet. I have battled physical complications and subsequent anxiety and depression. At the moment, every day is a battle and sometimes I think it will break me.

And yet.

I never understood how there could be joy within suffering, but now I do.

In the midst of pain and anguish and defeat, I feel victory and joy because of the hope God has given us.

I know that God has not forgotten all that’s lost and broken. He will restore all things.

Our story will be one of hope. And this is the start of that story, written on the battlefield. A story for such a time as this.

So today we make her name and her story known.

Her name is Esther.


2 thoughts on “Esther

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