Some dates come and go, barely noticed by the world. But June 8th is one I carry with me every single year.
It’s the day that should’ve been filled with newborn cries and soft blankets. It’s the due date of our first baby—the one I never got to hold.
Instead, June 8th became something different. Something quieter. Something heavier. And, in its own way… something sacred.
It’s also the day Due to Joy was born.
On a day marked by deep loss, God planted a seed of purpose I never expected. I didn’t know then how grief would turn into ministry, or how the ache I carried would slowly stretch into something that could hold space for others too.
But even now, after years have passed, I still feel the weight of this day.
I’ve come to accept that healing doesn’t mean forgetting. It doesn’t mean the sadness disappears. It means making room for joy and sorrow to coexist. It means holding space for both tears and gratitude—sometimes in the same breath.
How Due to Joy Began
On October 1, 2016, I had a miscarriage.
On what would’ve been my baby’s due date, June 8th, 2017, I launched a blog called Due to Joy. I began chronicling the work the Lord had been doing in my life and through my grief, sharing the deep, heavy stuff, and rejoicing at how the Lord had been restoring my joy, even in the midst of heartache.
Over the past nine years, I’ve seen how the Lord has been so gracious to use my story of loss to encourage others walking through different types of pregnancy and child loss. It has been a weighty and tremendous honor to hear the stories of families all over the world, to hear your babies’ names, and to honor them with you through comfort and encouragement found in God’s Word.
Finding Tangible Healing Through Creativity
Throughout my healing journey, I found tangible ways to process my grief—blogging and pouring my heart out on this website as if it were my own journal.
I also found comfort in creating something tangible. I began crafting macramé rainbows that truly felt like therapy while I longed for my own “rainbow baby,” a baby born after loss.
Over the next few years, I spent hundreds of hours handcrafting over 2,000 macramé rainbows. Having something to do with my empty hands brought me immense joy and purpose during that time.
Welcoming Stella and Sharing Hope
The Lord gave us a daughter, Stella, who is now almost six years old. The pregnancy after loss was incredibly hard—I truly learned what it meant to cling to the Lord in the unknown.
As I shared that journey, I was able to hear more incredible stories of how the Lord met many of you in your grief, and how He carried each of you throughout your subsequent pregnancies. You, too, understood the juxtaposition of holding on to grief and joy.
Launching the Miscarriage Care Packages
Then, in the summer of 2019, many close friends of mine experienced traumatic pregnancy loss—one after another—at different stages. All grieving the loss of their longed-for babies.
My heart broke for them,with them.
I needed to find a way to tangibly offer encouragement and acknowledgement of their precious babies.
That was when I launched the miscarriage care packages. This gift was put together with so much intention, to send love and encouragement to families who have experienced unimaginable loss, with the goal of making them feel less alone in their grief and giving others a way to come alongside grieving families to send love from afar.
The Song That Carried Me Today
All day long, I’ve had “I’ll Fly Away” by Forrest Frank playing in the background.
Something about the lyrics touches that ache in my heart, I still don’t have words for.
They remind me that this life isn’t all there is.
That our hope stretches far beyond this life.
That the ache won’t last forever.
That one day, I’ll get to meet Avery.
Lyrics to I’ll Fly Away — Forrest Frank
But hold on a little while longerI know
there's a plan for Your sons and Your daughters
Even for the ones who didn't make it out the womb
Can't wait to see our little baby soon
So, I'll fly away, oh glory
I'll fly away
When I die, Hallelujah, by and by
I'll fly away
Listen to I’ll Fly Away by Forrest Frank
Click here to listen on Spotify
—or—
Listen on YouTube
Happy Heavenly Birthday, Avery
You were the beginning of so much love.
The start of a story I never thought I’d write.
You were the reason I first learned how much it hurts to love someone you never got to see face-to-face. And the reason I started Due to Joy, so that other mothers wouldn’t have to walk through this kind of grief alone.
Today, I honor you.
I carry you in everything I do.
And I thank God for the quiet, perfect imprint you left on my life.
For the Ones Who Grieve Quietly
If today is heavy for you too, if there’s a date on your calendar that carries more weight than most people will ever realize, I just want to say: I see you.
God sees you.
And your baby is not forgotten.
You don’t have to move on by now.
You’re allowed to still feel it.
You’re allowed to still cry.
You’re allowed to find joy too.
Grief and healing can coexist. There’s no expiration date on missing someone you love.
Journaling Prompt for Grieving a Due Date
If this day feels heavy on your heart, take some time to sit with these reflections:
- What do I wish the world knew about my baby?
- What would I say to them today if I had the chance?
- How has this loss shaped the way I see myself and my faith?
- Where do I feel God’s presence most deeply in my grief?
- What hope can I hold onto today, even in the midst of pain?
You might write a letter, pour out a prayer, or simply let your thoughts flow onto the page without judgment.
A verse to meditate on:
“The Lord is close to the brokenhearted and saves those who are crushed in spirit.” — Psalm 34:18
May this truth bring you comfort and remind you that you are not alone in your sorrow.
My Heart
June 8th will always be a special day to me.
A day of remembering.
A day of aching.
A day of purpose.
And most of all, a day of love.
Happy heavenly birthday, Avery.
You are deeply missed, forever loved, and never forgotten.
—
With you in the ache and the hope,
Cait
