Everything about a miscarriage is painful. Cramps and contractions came in waves across my abdomen and back. I was dizzy and weak and so very tired. Mentally, I was in anguish and struggling to comprehend my new reality. Emotionally, I was devastated and exhausted from hours of sobbing over my child’s lost life. Then, there’s the guilt- guilt for absolutely losing it over a six week miscarriage, guilt for possibly not “losing it” enough, and eventually guilt for getting up and getting dressed again, smiling again, maybe even laughing again. There was so much guilt and grief and heartache. There were so many tears and so much sobbing. There were so many moments of wondering how much more my heart could take.
Six weeks may not seem like long. I only knew for three weeks before my baby was gone, but it was long enough. It was long enough for love at first positive sign, long enough to dream of the future, long enough to think of baby names and plan out a nursery, long enough to buy a big brother t-shirt, and long enough to love my baby wholeheartedly and be forever connected. It was long enough to be completely wrecked at the first sign of spotting and the sinking feeling in my gut that something wasn’t quite right.
It seems like a slap in the face when, on top of the emotional trauma of losing a child, you have to undergo the extremely painful physical process of a miscarriage, but somehow the pain often felt like a welcome distraction from the hurt inside. My eyes and my head ached from the restless nights and hours of crying. One week of miscarrying felt like a long time to drag out the inevitable. Then, there’s the pain after the fact-calling your doctor to cancel your next appointment, getting the big brother T-shirt in the mail, finally getting a negative test result, and recovering from your body’s exhaustion from the enormous task it just underwent.
Pardon my language, but miscarriage sucks. It sucks the life right out of you. It sucks the hope and joy from your heart, at least momentarily. Strangely, in spite of all of that, there were blessings even in this tragedy. A few days into my miscarriage, my sister’s childhood best friend offered to meet me on a Saturday morning to perform an ultrasound and confirm or deny whether I was miscarrying. She hasn’t seen my sister in twenty-five years, but she dropped everything to get me answers. I’m still in disbelief and am so grateful. There’s some peace in knowing the truth instead of having uncertainty hang over your head for days. Friends and family took care of me through calls, texts, cards, meals, and little surprises in the mail. Most importantly, by the grace of God, I didn’t experience anger. I wasn’t angry with God and still am not, and I completely attribute that to God’s grace. It is my biggest blessing from this experience. I have felt heartbroken, devastated, and destroyed emotionally, but never angry. I don’t understand why this happened, but I’ve come to terms with the fact that I don’t have to understand. I know, however, that even if I had felt angry that God would have walked me through that too. A couple of verses have brought me comfort during this time:
“Then Job arose and tore his robe and shaved his head and fell on the ground and worshiped. And he said, ‘Naked I came from my mother’s womb, and naked shall I return. The Lord gave, and the Lord has taken away; blessed be the name of the Lord.’ In all this Job did not sin or charge God with wrong.” Job 1:20-22 ESV
“‘All flesh is like grass and all its glory like the flower of grass. The grass withers, and the flower falls, but the word of the Lord remains forever.’ And this word is the good news that was preached to you.” 1 Peter 1:24-25 ESV
Despite its pain, this season has reminded me of God’s sovereignty and goodness. It’s reminded me that He is worthy of honor and glory and praise, despite my circumstances. His goodness doesn’t waver. He is the same yesterday, today, and forever, so I will praise Him and trust Him. I’m reminded that my hope is not in this life but in the Gospel of Jesus Christ and in an eternity in His presence. There may be loss and grieving in this life, but we can find joy and peace in the unmerited gift of salvation.
I’m now one in four, but I’m still a mama to two precious children. My son is still a big brother. I’m proud to be mama to two sweet babes, and I won’t shy away from that truth because it’s uncomfortable to talk about. In fact, I think it’s something that should be talked about more. I’ve found so much encouragement and healing in reading other godly women’s stories, and it’s my prayer that my story would encourage other hearts. I’m so thankful that God chose me to carry our sweet baby even if it was for such a short time, and I eagerly look forward to embracing my child in heaven.