Trigger warning – as the title says, this post deals with miscarriage/pregnancy loss. I’m writing in the midst of it, so while the content isn’t graphic, the grief is still fresh. I know a lot of women carry this heartache privately; I’m praying that as God’s leading me through this, I can share the hope I’m finding in a way that might not come up in ordinary conversation, but will encourage someone nonetheless.
The last week has been hard. On Sunday morning, I quietly celebrated the 9 week mark and prayed that the worst of my first trimester sickness was behind us. We’d seen a heartbeat on the 6 week ultrasound. We’d already told the kids, who were over the moon. We were starting to let friends know the happy reason I’d been out of commission for over a month. And by Sunday night, I’d started bleeding and frantically googling and realizing the next few days were going to be a haze of uncertainty.
Even so, I thought it was ultimately going to be alright. My doctor’s office is awesome, and managed to schedule me for an ultrasound the following afternoon. I was sure everything was going to be fine. Sometimes you get some bleeding in pregnancy, and the vast majority of the time you carry your baby to full term. It was so unlikely anything was truly wrong.
And then the ultrasound technician got quiet… and I’m not experienced in reading sonograms, but I knew enough to recognize the tiny heartbeat was missing. And then we had to wait to be shuffled around and sent upstairs to someone who was allowed to tell us that our baby was already gone.
I think the technical term for what we’re going through is “missed miscarriage” – the baby isn’t living any more, but my body still thinks I’m pregnant. I still very much feel like I’m pregnant. And waiting for the difficult, inevitable outcome sucks.
We chose to do a final ultrasound today. It’s not that we were expecting to see anything different; I’ve just been struggling to get past the gut reaction of this must be a mistake. I don’t know if this sort of thing is typically offered, but for me it was a healing thing to be able to say goodbye to our little one and take a moment to pray with my husband.
This is our second loss this year – I’ll be grieving a missed due date the end of next month, and now one in May. And I don’t understand. The doctors don’t have a good medical reason; I’m just on the wrong side of the statistics. And God – while merciful and tender and faithful in the way He’s comforted us – is also silent as to how this works together for our good.
But while I don’t understand, while I’m feeling deep sorrow for the babies I don’t get to hold, I do hope. Not, “I hope the next time we’ll have a healthy baby”, although I pray for that, as well. But I have confident hope that my unborn children are with Jesus in heaven, and I will meet them one day. (1 Thessalonians 4:13-14) I have confident hope that Jesus is walking beside my family as we grieve, as Someone who knows grief. (Hebrews 4:14-16) I have confident hope that suffering sickness through the first 9 weeks of the pregnancy was not a waste – it means a great deal to me to have had opportunity to love and serve my unborn child the only way I’m able – but more than that, I know that when we surrender this trial to God, somehow He will redeem it in a way that gives the pain purpose. I may not get to know “why” before I meet Him face to face, but I can trust His goodness. (Isaiah 55:8-9)
…and hope does not put us to shame, because God’s love has been poured into our hearts through the Holy Spirit who has been given to us.Romans 5:5
We have felt so loved and covered in prayer during this waiting time. I did not expect to feel as at peace as I do, and I can only attribute that to God’s presence and the many people interceding for us. Thank you to everyone who has been lifting us up; we are so grateful.
I shared a song via Facebook that’s resonating with me at the moment, and I’ll add it here as well with the prayer that someone else who’s struggling might find it comforting. If you’re going through something similar, or still grieving a past loss, please know you are not alone and you are very, very loved. Don’t hesitate to reach out for prayer.
Great is His faithfulness.
2 thoughts on “When you’re waiting to miscarry”
The clarity of your thinking and reasoning is nothing short of a little miracle in and of itself.
God is blessed.
I am sure of it.
I don’t know how regularly you blog but you really ought to do it more. It is a reaching out to others you may never know or meet.
I’m covering you and your family in continued prayer.