I can’t unhear the silence and I can’t unsee the emptiness.
Sitting. Waiting. Wondering.
What could’ve have been. What should’ve been.
My baby is gone. The sadness that comes over me as I write that is almost unbearable. It’s a weird mix of emptiness and sadness. At the same time I am not empty. The pieces are all still there. For some reason, clinging to my body. As if some sick, twisted sense of hope and longing will bring them back into life.
For now we wait. And grieve. Tomorrow we’ll say goodbye to what is left. To the shell and hope of what could’ve been.
I started writing this a little over seven weeks ago. Thanksgiving weekend I took a pregnancy test that turned out to be positive. Early in January I started having some spotting and went in for an ultrasound. Immediately I could tell that something wasn’t right. The ultrasound tech asked if my dates could be off (I was pretty sure that they weren’t.) An internal ultrasound confirmed my worst fear.
There was not a heartbeat.
By the time we had started telling our families around Christmas, the baby was gone. For reasons that I’ll never understand, my body held on to what was left. I walked around thinking I was still pregnant for another 6 or 7 weeks after the baby had passed.
I opted to go the route of a D&C as my body was not making much work of purging the tissue that was left. Two days after the initial ultrasound we went in for the out-patient procedure. It was scary and emotional. We are so thankful for the skilled hands of my doctor and the care from the nurses that helped this process go smoothly and without any issue.
While this has been hard and painful, it has been bearable. I firmly believe that we would not have felt the peace that we did without the prayers of so many friends and family. God’s grace pours out in our lives at the most unexpected times. The child that we were not able to hold in this world will always have a special place in our hearts, but we rest in the comfort that we will see him someday and that God can and will work through our lives and the lives of those around us in spite of difficult circumstances.
2 Corinthians 1:3-7
3 Praise be to the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of compassion and the God of all comfort, 4 who comforts us in all our troubles, so that we can comfort those in any trouble with the comfort we ourselves receive from God. 5 For just as we share abundantly in the sufferings of Christ, so also our comfort abounds through Christ. 6 If we are distressed, it is for your comfort and salvation; if we are comforted, it is for your comfort, which produces in you patient endurance of the same sufferings we suffer. 7 And our hope for you is firm, because we know that just as you share in our sufferings, so also you share in our comfort.
I have struggled with just how much of our story I want to share. In telling friends and members of our church I have learned that miscarriage is common. Too common. And no one really talks about it. There is no shame in miscarrying. We didn’t do anything wrong. God isn’t punishing us or trying to teach us a lesson. There is pain, suffering and sadness in this world. There is pain in childbearing. Life is hard. But we are not alone.
We are not the first people to endure these circumstances. We are not alone in our sorrow or suffering. Not only do we have friends and family to lean on, but we also have a loving God whom we can turn to. We will come through this with a changed perspective and with an empathy for others who have experienced loss in pregnancy.
{ 6 comments… read them below or add one }
Oh Jen, thank you so much for sharing this. My heart breaks for you and your family.
Sending much love your way!
I am so, so sorry Jen
I’m so sorry for your loss, Jen. We lost our first baby to miscarriage. I wasn’t as far along as you, but I still often wonder about that child I won’t know this side of heaven. We recently told Caroline about it as that is the only sibling she will ever have. The pain does lessen with time, but it never completely goes away. Hugs to you.
Thanks for sharing your story and the struggle with your loss. Your courage will provide strength and inspiration for others, my friend. God is good and will work His plan in His time. Hugs to you!!
Thankyou for sharing this Jen. You expressed your thoughts and feelings in such a beautiful way . You spoke for all of us who have gone through this pain and loss. Healing comes with time and we have a loving, compassionate God who also grieves withus.
I’m so sorry to hear about your loss, Jen. Thank you for opening your heart.
Reading this brought back so many memories. My first baby (which would have been your third cousin) was stillborn at 8 1/2 months. I went into labor and delivered what looked like a perfect little boy except he never took a breath. I found out later that he had probably died 2-3 days before I went into labor. It was very hard on the whole family because it would have been the first grandchild and great-grandchild, but harder on me because it was my first child. I remember coming home to see an empty crib and nursery.
God was very gracious in giving me three more pregnancies and resulted in three healthy sons. But I will never forget my Jason. The pain subsides but not the memories. And my first thought when my Dad passed away was that he was the first one to meet Jason in heaven. Now your little baby is in heaven with your Grandpa Dale.
Hugs to you and Dave and your sweet Elise.
{ 1 trackback }