Written by Amanda McCullough
As I sat alone in the ultrasound exam room at the OBGYN, not with the eagerness of visits past but with despair in my heart yet again, I tried to hold back tears. I would not get to see another child of mine, but instead an empty ultrasound image that showed evidence of where a baby once was but is no longer. This was the second baby in a row that we’d lost, the third baby of ours that we would never meet.
My first miscarriage happened when we first started trying to have kids and was early in the pregnancy – early enough that I questioned if I’d been pregnant at all, though I knew I was. It was on my birthday, and instead of celebrating, I spent the day in tears. Thankfully, shortly after this the Lord blessed us with a healthy baby son (he just turned 2), and I learned not to take this precious life for granted.
Our next miscarriage took me by surprise. I got pregnant again after our son turned 1 and had the usual 8-week ultrasound. The doctor said I wasn’t as far along as expected so it was too soon to say how things were progressing with the baby. I went back in 2 weeks, but this time I left with heartache – the baby had stopped developing and there was no heartbeat. I had had a “missed miscarriage” – where the baby had died, but my body hadn’t gone through the natural miscarriage process. I was given medication to induce the miscarriage process at home and was to return in a week to ensure I had “passed all the tissue” (lest I need a D&C). Tears still come to my eyes remembering that emotionally and physically painful weekend of losing and letting go of our 10-week-old baby at home.
All I could do was cry out to the Lord to hold my broken heart. I wept over the baby we’d never meet and hold in this world, who was with Jesus now. I met His tender embrace in a new and profound way in the midst of my pain. When we’re in the valley of the shadow of death, the Good Shepherd is with us and comforts us.
Going through this, it’s been surprising to learn how common miscarriage is – 1 in 4 pregnancies end in a miscarriage. That’s a lot of babies that many mothers will never get to meet this side of eternity. God invited me to open myself more to others and share our heartache, and in doing so, learned of mother after mother who experienced the pain of losing a baby. I met God’s redemption in drawing nearer to other women by sharing my story.
When I felt like I was alone, God showed me abundantly, through His Word and His people, that I was loved. He drew me and my husband closer as we both helped each other mourn. He led me closer to Him and even spoke to me in a significant way about my calling, leading to a major life change as I left my job to be a stay-at-home mom.
After some time to heal and grieve, I was determined to keep trying. But once again, 6 weeks into the next pregnancy, I found my heart in pain again and my fears once more being realized as I went through a natural miscarriage this time. After the first loss, I’d found myself saying “I couldn’t go through that again” – but Jesus showed me that He has the power to help us through even the hardest of moments. He drew me into deeper trust for Him, and a hope in His promise of redemption. It helped to write as I processed these losses:
On Miscarriage
The color red. In a pregnancy, this is the color of despair, of pain, of a sinking feeling in your chest. Your breath catches and you cry out, “Oh Lord, no! Protect this child!” As the red brightens and flows, your hopes are as crushed as they once were lifted. Another child lost. A child you will never hold. Never care for, nurture, sing to, smile over, discover the world in wonder with. But one you will always love and hold in your heart.
The color red. Yet this is the color of hope – of the Savior who hung on a tree, facing the unwelcoming doors of death with determination in His solemn brow, that He might fling them wide forevermore. The color red means there is only life. This little one will open her eyes to the smiling face of the One who formed her. This little one will never know a day apart from Him. And one day, you will meet this little one and hold her for the first time, embraced by the Father who beams with pride over His beloveds.
The color red. There is promise of redemption. You cling tightly to that hope that what was lost will be found, what was broken will be made whole, what was dead will be made alive.
After 2 losses in a row, my heart was tempted to lose hope for growing our family. But a friend invited me to have the courage to hope – “Why, my soul, are you downcast? Why so disturbed within me? Put your hope in God, for I will yet praise him, my Savior and my God” (Ps 43:5). I’m grateful that God did answer our prayers, finally giving us a healthy pregnancy the third time around. I’m currently 27 weeks pregnant and our baby girl is thriving. We consider this little life to be God’s grace to us (her middle name will be Grace), and a reminder to have grace on myself after this difficult season.
If you too, have gone through a miscarriage, you are not alone.
And I encourage you – Share your story with others. There is healing in sharing our pain, letting others love us and show us God’s compassion. I found that miscarriage can be so private – a life is lost quietly, at home, often before most people even knew of its existence. But it is still a life – to be celebrated and also grieved over with community.
Cry out to God – He is the Good Shepherd who gently tends His beloved sheep. He sits with us in our pain and heartache, and entered into our suffering on the cross. “Come to me, all you who are weary and carrying heavy burdens, and I will give you rest” (Matt 11:28). It helped immensely to write and journal to God as I processed our losses.
Find a creative way to honor the baby you lost – Some friends gave me the advice to do something special as a way to remember the baby and what we went through. I decided to make a painting for our baby girl’s room, with a rainbow and line from a favorite hymn. Other ideas include planting a tree or flower, making or buying a Christmas ornament, naming the baby, and buying a special piece of jewelry.
I also invite you to consider, if you’ve experienced miscarriage, what was God teaching you through it? What did He want to show you about His character and purposes in your life? It helped me to sit down with my journal several months later and list out all the ways God used these painful times for good.
If you’ve never had a miscarriage, consider how you can be a supportive friend to those who go through it. Ask caring questions and listen. Bring them a meal, card, or gift. Pray for them. I am deeply grateful for those who walked beside us, as they were Jesus’ hands and feet to us in these ways.
I want to leave you with this hymn that brought me great comfort from the Lord during this difficult season:
You Are Mine (David Haas)
I will come to you in the silence
I will lift you from all your fear
You will hear My voice
I claim you as My choice
Be still, and know I am near
I am hope for all who are hopeless
I am eyes for all who long to see
In the shadows of the night
I will be your light
Come and rest in Me
Do not be afraid, I am with you
I have called you each by name
Come and follow Me
I will bring you home
I love you and you are mine
I am strength for all the despairing
Healing for the ones who dwell in shame
All the blind will see, the lame will all run free
And all will know My name
I am the Word that leads all to freedom
I am the peace the world cannot give
I will call your name, embracing all your pain
Stand up, now, walk, and live
Do not be afraid, I am with you
I have called you each by name
Come and follow Me
I will bring you home
I love you and you are mine
Amanda is a mom to Kendrick, 2, and pregnant with baby Addison, due in June. Her family lives in Norfolk, where her husband Kester is studying as a PhD student. She formerly worked as a campus minister for InterVarsity Christian Fellowship for 8 years before recently stepping into her calling to be a stay-at-home mom.
