The Pain of Miscarriage

Many of our friends and family members have been so thoughtful during this difficult time for us. Probably the most common (AND most helpful) questions people have asked are, “How are you feeling?” and “How are you doing emotionally?” These questions show that people care and that they don’t mind listening to our thoughts and emotions. These kind queries open up the door for us to share as much or as little as we feel like sharing at that time. Undoubtedly, going through the experience of having a miscarriage has certainly brought many emotions.

First and foremost, there are a few memories I keep replaying. I keep replaying that happy Friday in May when we got a positive pregnancy test – the tears of joy, the prayers of thanks, the shrieks of grandmas and aunts and friends we called to tell. I can hear little Ian’s voice saying, “Momma’s gonna have a BAY-bee!!”

And then, I keep replaying the morning of July 6th in my head – like a horrible nightmare, one that I wish I could awaken from. I remember telling Matt he didn’t have to come to the almost 12-week prenatal appointment so that he and Ian could both sleep in a little bit. “The worst thing that could happen,” I said, “would be that they couldn’t hear our baby’s heartbeat. But the chances of that are so small. I’ve been feeling great and haven’t had any problems.” We agreed that I’d go alone. When it came time in the appointment to find the heartbeat, our doctor spent a long two or three minutes moving the Doppler device across my stomach, trying to find the little heartbeat. “We’re close,” he said a few times … and then, “Let’s just bring in the ultrasound machine.” I remember seeing our baby on the screen, seemingly much bigger and more developed than at the last ultrasound at 5 weeks, 6 days – head, body, arms, legs. Everything looked fine to my untrained eyes. Our doctor started taking measurements on the screen. I still had no idea anything was wrong. “I’ll need a second opinion,” he said. “Why?” I asked. “Is there something wrong with our baby?” His words felt like a crushing blow. “I can’t find a heartbeat. And your baby only measures 8 weeks, 3 days.” “No!” I moaned and burst into tears. He went on to explain that this wasn’t my fault, that it happens in 1 out of 5 pregnancies, that there was probably a chromosomal problem … but it all felt like a blur. I walked like a zombie into the ultrasound tech’s room to receive confirmation that there was no heartbeat and no blood flow and that the baby had died three weeks before. She ushered me back into the doctor’s office where I called Matt to tell him the news. When our doctor came, he lovingly suggested that he’d call Matt to tell him everything since I probably wouldn’t be able to remember all of the details. And then I sobbed and prayed all the way home, when Matt and I could sob and pray together.

Of course, even five days later, our primary emotion is probably sadness. Tears are right there, under the surface, ready to emerge at any point. Just when it feels like we are taking a few steps forward, we take a few steps back. I mourn the loss of the baby that we were so eagerly awaiting meeting in January. We couldn’t wait to find out if we were having a son or daughter. We couldn’t wait to find out what our little one would look like, excel at, struggle with. We were excited to think that God was providing another baby for us to nurture and love – a brother or sister for our precious firstborn. I mourn the loss not only of the baby itself but also all of the hopes, dreams, plans, and expectations we had had for this little one.

I feel surprised. It’s amazing that we can feel such deep grief for someone we have never met. I would have imagined that experiencing miscarriage was hard, but I wouldn’t have guessed it would be THIS hard. I can’t even imagine the pain that those who miscarried later, had stillborn children, or have had older children who have died must feel.

I feel confused. Our doctor talks about the high probability that this baby had major chromosomal abnormalities since he or she died before 10 weeks of age. How does this happen? It seemed like things were going so well. I had no complications or negative symptoms. We even saw the baby’s heart beating! How were we able to see the baby’s heart beating one day and then just weeks later the doctor can’t find a heartbeat? What went wrong?

I feel out of control. I am a planner, and I love the feeling of (at least thinking) that I know what’s coming. I was excited to think that our babies would be slightly over 2 ½ years apart – the age difference Matt and I are with our close siblings, Amy and Jason. I loved the idea of having a January baby, especially since a few of my friends are also expecting babies around the same time. Especially after wrestling with infertility issues for nearly two years prior to conceiving Ian, I was just thrilled to be pregnant again after not a very long wait. We know that we would like to have two or even three children. I know 32 isn’t “old,” but I certainly do feel my biological clock ticking. I do not relish the idea of getting back on the emotional roller coaster of trying to get pregnant … “Will THIS be the month or not?” … while waiting and waiting and waiting …

I feel guilty. Is there anything I possibly did to cause this miscarriage? Working out too hard? Lifting something too heavy? Rough housing with Ian? Cleaning with harsh chemicals? Painting my toenails? Although the doctor assures me it would be nearly impossible to cause damage to a baby this young without also causing major damage to my body, I can’t help but wrack my brain and wonder what I could or should have done differently. I feel guilty that I hadn’t gotten around to putting the baby’s ultrasound picture on the fridge or writing in my pregnancy journal yet.

I feel worried. Will we be able to have more children? If I get pregnant again, will I have another miscarriage? Will we have to wait a long time before conceiving?

I feel mad. Why did God allow this to happen? Wanting a child is not a bad thing. Why has he allowed us to struggle first with infertility and then with miscarriage? While we are certainly sinful, we are trying to follow God’s plan of marriage and then family. Why are unmarried, teenage girls able to have healthy pregnancies and babies? I can’t see the reason God has allowed this to happen to us. Why, Lord? I felt mad having to go to the hospital, walking RIGHT BY the wing where we wanted to deliver this baby, in order to have the D&C procedure. A few times, I have challenged myself to look for the silver lining in this ordeal. One small thing that I could come up with is that we could have more time to save money before a baby would be born. After all, we had just received the bill for what our labor & delivery fees would be, and at least we’d be saving that money. It felt like salt in the wound when our D&C fees turned out to be $100 MORE than what the labor & delivery costs would be. Forget the silver lining. I don’t think I’m ready to look for one yet. It made me MAD to have to pay for a procedure that I didn’t even want in the first place.

I feel jealous. There are reminders all over of the baby we’ll never know on this earth. Pregnant women. New babies. Happy families. Facebook posts about good prenatal appointment, strong heartbeats, and healthy deliveries. I certainly wouldn’t wish the pain of miscarriage on anyone, but why can’t I be pregnant, too?

I feel thankful. I am happy that we didn’t find out the news until after we returned from our trip to Montana. There wasn’t a cloud of gloom over our family time or the celebration of Matt’s brother’s wedding. I am glad that our compassionate doctor was the one that gave me the news. He could instantly offer information, advice, and encouragement. I am grateful that I was prepared for the horrible cramping and bleeding that would follow instead of being scared by it. I am thankful the bleeding came, though, so I could have full assurance that there was something wrong. I am thankful that the D&C procedure went smoothly with no complications and that I’m already physically feeling quite a bit better. I am thankful that we already have the gift of a healthy, sweet little boy. He is not only a wonderful distraction and source of joy but a wonderful comfort. I am thankful for a strong marriage and a Christ-centered husband that can keep my eyes on the One who loves me with an everlasting love.

I feel encouraged. While my doctor said nearly 1 in 5 pregnancies ends in miscarriage, I couldn’t think of many people that I knew that had gone through this ordeal. After sharing our news, though, many, many friends and family members have with us stories of their challenges with miscarriage, too. A surprising number of friends lost a baby in a very similar way – the doctor not being able to find a heartbeat at around the same time in their baby’s development. We feel much less alone with our emotions knowing that others we love have walked this road, too. Even more encouraging were friends’ stories of lessons learned, God’s promises revealed, and happy endings following miscarriage.

I feel blessed. We have been so supported by family and friends during this valley in our lives. Hugs. Phone calls. E-mails. Facebook posts. Delicious meals. Offers to baby-sit Ian. Beautiful flowers. Most of all – promises to pray. God is certainly hearing and answering those prayers! Our family and friends truly have been the mouthpieces and hands of God to us, reminding us of our Lord’s presence and love and showing us that love in action. We are blessed to have the promise of heaven, to know that our little one is cradled in the best hands ever!

I feel loved. Though I may never know why He has brought us on this road, I know I can trust the One who leads me. He does, miraculously, work all things for the good of those who love Him. He is with us to lead, guide, support, and encourage. I trust Him! I’ve seen His faithfulness in the past, and I know He’ll be faithful in the future. My faith still feels too weak to say with Job, “The Lord giveth and the Lord taketh away. Blessed be the name of the Lord.” I can’t say that I like that He took away the precious life He started growing in me, but I do know that He’s the Creator, Author, and Sustainer of life … and that He is good. As we pray, “Lord, when doubts fill my mind, when my heart is in turmoil, quiet me and give me renewed hope and cheer (Psalm 94:19),” we know He hears and answers. He will equip us with the faith to get through this ordeal as we read His Word and are reminded of His promises. He will encourage us through His people. When we are weak, then He is strong. His grace is sufficient for us, since His power is made perfect in weakness. We are privileged to serve and follow Him – the One who loves us infinitely more than we loved our little one. And NOTHING can separate us from His love. “For I am convinced that neither death nor life, neither angels nor demons, neither the present nor the future, nor any powers, neither height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation will be able to separate us from the love of God that is in Christ Jesus, our Lord.” (Romans 8:38-39) Sometimes God even speaks through the mouth of a two-year-old. As I was playing with Ian yesterday, he started singing, "Praise Him, praise Him, all you little children. God is love. God is love." I didn't even know he KNEW that song. But that pretty much sums it up. God IS love. And nothing can keep us from that love.

Our siblings shared an awesome song with us while we were together with them in Montana. We never thought that the lyrics would become as meaningful to us as they are now.

Laura Story - "Blessings" Lyrics
We pray for blessings, we pray for peaceComfort for family, protection while we sleep We pray for healing, for prosperity We pray for Your mighty hand to ease our suffering All the while, You hear each spoken need Yet love us way too much to give us lesser things

Cause what if Your blessings come through raindrops? What if Your healing comes through tears What if a thousand sleepless nights Are what it takes to know You’re near?What if trials of this life Are Your mercies in disguise?

We pray for wisdom, Your voice to hear We cry in anger when we cannot feel You near We doubt Your goodness, we doubt Your love As if every promise from Your Word is not enough And all the while You hear each desperate plea And long that we'd have faith to believe

Cause what if Your blessings come through raindrops? What if Your healing comes through tears?What if a thousand sleepless nights Are what it takes to know You’re near?And what if trials of this life Are Your mercies in disguise?

When friends betray us, when darkness seems to win We know the pain reminds this heart That this is not, this is not our home It's not our home

Cause what if Your blessings come through raindrops? What if Your healing comes through tears?And what if a thousand sleepless nightsAre what it takes to know You’re near?What if my greatest disappointments Or the achings of this life Is the revealing of a greater thirst This world can’t satisfy?And what if trials of this life The rain, the storms, the hardest nights Are Your mercies in disguise?