Unusually intelligent, unusually confident, unusually thoughtful & unusually good.

In December, one of my dearest friends and her husband lost their first baby, 20 weeks into a pregnancy that was wrought with sickness and all manner of things gone awry.

I don't know how to follow that sentence. It's heartbreaking. Because not only did Tara lose the baby, but she had to deliver him or her. And that part hurts too, because the precious little baby was so ravaged by the process of delivery and illness that they could not tell if its body was that of a girl or boy. Tara & Trey could not hold their first child. They could not take photos with their baby. Everything went downhill so quickly, they had not anticipated making arrangements for giving birth and leaving their child's tiny body at the hospital.

They named their child Scout. For many reasons, but yes, it's after the character from To Kill a Mockingbird. Tara spent those twenty weeks praying for this beating heart inside her belly and found this character description to describe what she hoped for her own child:

Scout is a very unusual little girl, both in her own qualities and in her social position. She is unusually intelligent (she learns to read before beginning school), unusually confident (she fights boys without fear), unusually thoughtful (she worries about the essential goodness and evil of mankind), and unusually good (she always acts with the best intentions).

What I love most about this is that it so beautifully characterizes Tara. She is the friend you hope to have. Her husband Trey is the kind of man you want for all of your friends, and for yourself. Hailing from the same small town, they are high school sweethearts. The two married a couple of weeks after we all graduated from college and we all cried when the doors opened and she walked down the aisle in white, the first of our closest girlfriends to marry.

Tara is unusually intelligent. She studies more than anyone I've ever met (including my two roommates in med school). She had just finished Occupational Therapy school and was preparing for her board exam, when she and Trey moved back to their hometown and found out she was expecting. But besides school, Tara possesses a wisdom that is gentle and kind. There is no Southern accent quite so wonderfully lyrical as hers, and the words that flow so sweetly from her tongue are useful, helpful, wise.

Tara is unusually confident. In the midst of chaos, confusion, wandering thoughts and hours of staring into space (I imagine), she braves this unknown life of a mother without a living child with confidence and gumption. I've mentioned before that we are pen pals, but I know she is writing for herself, to our God, to her child, to her restless confusion. I have never witnessed a person pursuing the healing of her own heart more. She is taking pottery classes with other women who have lost children. Today she learned to ski-- broken as her physical body has been, Tara Beth learned to ski.

Tara is unusually thoughtful. My dear, dear tender-hearted friend, in the midst of her own sorrow and loss, in the midst of her crazy Wizard of Oz dreams wrote to me: "My thoughts, my emotions, my circumstances just kind of beat me up everyday. And then I thought-- is Hope getting walloped by the apples too-- or is she still stuck back in the twister?" (This is a Wizard of Oz reference, which I feel the need to point out since I have never actually seen the whole movie.) So precious is her heart! In the midst of heartache I cannot imagine, this woman worried for me and the less significant issues of my own heart. But that's just the lesson we can learn from Tara-- no person's heartache is any less significant. If it matters to you, it matters. That is love. She is a woman whose thoughtfulness could be storied for page after page; it has made a difference in my life.

Tara is unusually good. There is no way to accurately portray this aspect of Miss Tara Beth. Here are some examples, however: When we were in the hospital preparing to take her home the day after Scout's delivery, she started to cry and said she was so sad that this had to be the collective memory for our group of friends-- that the first one to be pregnant lost her baby in such a terrible way. She didn't want us all to fear having children because of her experience. How does one possess such selflessness? She is unusually good, you see. Another example: I texted Tara today to ask her permission to write about her experience on my blog, to write about Scout. I told her I could change their names and she could read it before I post. Her reponse? "Girl you can write & use names, we want to help people!"

So this is part one. Tomorrow I will write a Wednesday Letter along these lines and later I will provide some resources, practical help for couples who have felt this loss as Tara & Trey have, and for friends who don't get it (like me), but love them so desperately and want so deeply to help. I asked Tara for her input for resources, so you'll know they're actually helpful.

I'm telling you about Scout because Tara & Trey are not the only ones. If there's anything we have all learned in this situation it is that many, many couples experience this kind of loss. It is unfathomable to me that such numbers could feel such heartache, and I want you all to know. I want you to know that you can help. You can pray. You can provide service to these families. You can be supportive, even if you don't completely understand. Don't sit back and be silent. Don't be afraid to speak to them or afraid to talk about their child.

Scout lived. Scout lived inside Tara's body for twenty weeks and that is reason to celebrate, to commemorate. On Saturday, we will gather to celebrate Scout's life, held safely inside Tara's womb for so brief a time.

Will you join us in prayers of gratitude?