Miscarriage, Mercy, and Rescue

Every time I find out that one of my friends or friend of a friend has miscarried, my heart breaks. Here's my story.  I shared this with our Rota, Spain MOPS group in April 2012 and am copying it straight from my notes to this blog post.

My name is Elizabeth and I am living my dream. I get to mother my children full time and as many of you know, I have 4 of them. Abigail, Adam, Ada, and Annalise ages 10, 7, 2, & 1. What you may not know is that I have actually been pregnant 7 times and have experienced three miscarriages.  In order, they go, miscarriage, Abigail, Adam, two more miscarriages, then nearly 5 years later, Ada and Annalise. 

Although each miscarriage was difficult, I grieved most for this last one because I was just over 10 weeks along when I found out I had miscarried. I had been sick for about 4 weeks with my usual all day, around the clock, morning sickness. Although my nausea had stopped ten days before this appointment, I was sure everything was okay. I couldn’t wait to see and hear the baby’s heartbeat. 

When I went in for my first appointment at 10 weeks they did a routine ultrasound. Matt, Abigail, and Adam and I were in the room with the tech, excited to see our new little one on the screen.  Although I did see my baby and the yolk sac, I did not see the heartbeat. The tech kept moving the probe inside of me and looked concerned.  She didn’t make eye contact with me, her eyes were fixed on the screen. Then, she quietly muttered, “There’s no heartbeat. This isn’t a VIABLE pregnancy.” 

After talking with my midwife, we figured out that according to the measurements, and the day my nausea stopped was probably the day my baby died, around 8.5 weeks.  And, since my husband was miraculously home this particular week, we should go ahead with a D&C. 

I sat in the room with my midwife and cried. She reassured me that I could still get pregnant again. There was no medical explanation for one miscarriage, or two, or three. I had carried two other babies to term so my body could do it again.  While her words were comforting to an extent, they didn’t take away the great loss I was feeling. This precious little baby was already deeply loved by me. She already had a place in our family. I knew where I was going to put her carseat in the van, which room would be hers, and, of course, I had an estimate of when her birthday would be, which would have been days away from Abigail’s.

This happened on a Monday.  They couldn’t get me in for surgery until Thursday.  I was devastated.  I had already been carrying around my miscarried baby for 10 days, now another 3.  I laid in bed those days, crying, praying, so sad.  But, looking back, I’m grateful for that time to mourn, to tell God how unfair I thought He was being, to ask Him how many more miscarriages He had planned for me.  I wasn’t even sure that I ever wanted to try to get pregnant again. This emotional roller coaster was too much.

That Thursday morning we went to the hospital. I insisted on having one more ultrasound just to verify that there was no life, which there wasn’t., and proceeded with the surgery.  I went home empty handed and broken hearted.

Webster’s dictionary defines Mercy as kind and compassionate treatment.  As I recovered and continued life in the following weeks, I also began to see God’s mercy shown to me during that time in so many ways. 

First, my husband flies C-17’s and during our 4 years in Washington State, where this miscarriage happened, he was TDY 2-3 weeks, home 2-5 days, then gone 2-3 weeks, over and over again.  We hardly saw him.  How compassionate and kind of God to have Matt home and WITH me at the appointment the day I found out I had lost my Baby.  And, also Matt was able to stay home with me for 2 weeks afterwards.  He hadn’t been home that long in a very long time.

Second, God also met a need I didn’t even know I had.  On that Monday, after the ultrasound, my husband asked me if I wanted him to fly my mom to be with me.  I said no, realizing it would be costly to fly her from Texas to Washington State and knowing I had plenty of church family who could help with childcare during my surgery and afterwards.  I didn’t think I needed my mom with me.  But, thankfully, God knew my needs better than I did.  The day after my surgery, on Friday afternoon, my mom was leaving the grocery store and bumped into a professor that she works with at Texas Lutheran University. They were just doing the customary “Hi, how are you” exchanges, when the professor asked how I was doing.  My mom shared with her about my miscarriage.  Well, this professor had recently miscarried her twins at 7 months gestation and went home to be with her mom and family for several months. She had only recently returned to work and asked my mom why she wasn’t with me. This woman went home that night and bought my mom $700 plane tickets to come see me the next day!  How like My God to arrange that for me. When my mom arrived, I realized I DID need her. She didn’t necessarily DO anything particular or say anything different than what she could have said over the phone. But, just her presence with me, in my home, was exactly what I needed that week following the surgery.  God did not HAVE to bring my mom to see me.  But, He did. 

God also showed me His mercy by surrounding me with an extensive support system through our church family, MOPS group, and church sponsored Military Spouses Small Group.  I received countless cards, flowers, emails, phone calls, meals, hugs, and prayers from loving women. Having a support system like that doesn’t happen at every base, at least it hasn’t for me. God used these women to comfort and love me.

I had read somewhere that it helps to have a special box or place to put all the notes and memorabilia from a loss. I used this purple hat box and have kept it in view ever since so that I remember the baby I lost, but also remember how God showered me with love and mercy through a difficult time.

It took a few weeks for me to want to go back to church. There were at least 5 women who were all due within the same month as I was and I really didn’t want to see them pregnant and showing. 

During our praise and worship time that first morning back at church, we sang a song that now has a strong meaning to me and whenever I hear it I go back to this time of God’s mercy and love poured out to me in my time of need.  It’s called, Came To My Rescue by the group Hillsong. I’d like to read to you some of the lyrics.

My whole life
I place in your hands


God of Mercy
Humbled I bow down


In your presence at your throne



I called you answered


And you came to my rescue

I felt God’s love, compassion, and kindness surround me as I sang these words that morning.  Tears streamed down my cheeks as I recalled all He had provided for in the previous weeks.

You see, He did come to my rescue.  He didn’t rescue me by saving my baby’s life, like I would have liked, but He rescued me by being with me. I was in so much pain from losing my baby and He was there for me. I experienced a side of His character that I had never experienced before, His Mercy and Love during a devastating time.

I don’t know why I miscarried. I’ll never know.  But, so much good has come out of my loss through what I have learned. 

First, I learned that loss is loss.   Whether you lose your baby, a loved one, a job, a dream, a home, a relationship or whatever you can fill that blank in with, loss hurts.  Everyone who experiences a loss goes through the stages of grief, some of which are shock and denial, pain and guilt, anger and bargaining, depression, acceptance, hope and more.  Everyone goes through these stages in different orders and to varying degrees and amounts of time. 

About one month after I miscarried, I received a phone call from a dear friend of mine who had just moved back to our area.  Two months prior to her calling me she had experienced a tremendous loss of her own when her 3 young daughters were instantly killed in a car accident. She shouldn’t have survived, but she did and so did the woman driving the vehicle.  When I heard her voice, my first thought was “What do I say?”.  I soon realized, there was nothing to say.  What could I say that would soften or take away the pain of her loss. So, I listened.  When I visit her, like I did this past summer I talk about the girls.  Monica, Sarah, and Katie were dear to me. They played with my kids, they ate at my table in my home.  And, when I got off the phone with her that night, I thanked God that I could relate to her pain. I thanked Him that I had a small understanding of grief but most of all an understanding of His compassion and kindness that I knew he was providing for her also. 

And, I realized that there’s no way to compare loss. If I were to compare her loss and my loss,  obviously hers outweighed mine, no question. Yet, we were both hurting.   

Grief looks different for each person. There is no ONE way to grieve. Try not to compare your grief or level of grief with someone else’s.   What helped me was when someone told me that I had permission to grieve however I needed to grieve.  Some days were easier than others. Other days the miscarriage was on my mind all day long. But, over time, it got easier to go through my days without thinking as much about my loss.

The second lesson I learned is that now I can relate to other women who have miscarried. I know what it feels like, physically, emotionally, and spiritually.  Everytime I hear about someone who has miscarried, especially when it’s someone I know, my mind and heart go back to that time of loss and all that I felt.  It can come back in an instant. Although it’s painful, I’m thankful for it to some degree because I can genuinely be empathetic to someone who is grieving.

The third lesson learned is that I was able to experience God’s love and mercy in real ways during a very difficult time of loss. Matt was home, God brought my mom to me, and I was surrounded my women who loved and cared for me.

Maybe you’re here today and you’ve experienced a miscarriage and can relate to my story in some way.  Look back over that time, if you haven’t already, and see where God took care of you, where He provided for you.  And, thank Him.  He doesn’t leave us here to suffer alone.

Maybe you know someone who has recently miscarried or in the future someone you know miscarries.  I encourage you to do something for her.  Send her a note, an email or flowers. Take her a meal or dessert.  Write down some verses or encouraging words for her to soak in and think about. Make yourself available to be her listening ear. Allow her to grieve in her own way, at her own pace, whatever that looks like for her.

And, please don’t say things like, “This is God’s will” or “God never gives us more than we can handle” or “God works  everything out for good.”  Although there’s truth to those words, they are not helpful or at least they weren’t for me. In the midst of my grief, those types of phrases stung, they didn’t heal. They make God sound mean and as if He was out to get me. Instead, give a big hug, ask her how she’s feeling, tell her you have no words and that you can’t imagine what she’s going through. Make yourself available to spend time with her. Ask if she wants to talk about it and then, be ready to listen. 

If you’re listening to my story tonight and you’re not sure what it means to understand God’s mercy and love, I want you to know that you can understand. It is possible. He wants to have a relationship with you.  You can do that simply by recognizing you are a sinner, that you have done wrong things in your life, then believe that Jesus is God’s Son and that He died on the cross and rose again to forgive sins, and invite him to be the Savior of your life. Then, your relationship with Him begins.  If you would like more information about this or would like to begin your relationship with Jesus Christ, please see me, Patsy, or Rashell at the close of our meeting tonight. We would love to talk with you more about it.

My story does have a happy ending. Exactly one year after my miscarriage, I found out that I was pregnant with Ada and then on the two year anniversary, I was 5 months pregnant with Annalise. Here I am, coming up on our 4 year anniversary and I have 4 healthy children and a true story of how God reached me in his love and mercy during a time when I needed Him most.

Thank you for listening to my story.