From the consuming flames of grief to an unfailing spring of water: My journey through miscarriage

Seeing those two lines on a small stick was the second of the most joyous moments of my entire life. The one preceding, and spawning this joy, being the words “introducing Mr. and Mrs. Boaz”. For as long as I can remember I have had a momma’s heart. Children have always been a life-source for me; they are full of such promise and potential that they rejuvenate my heart. Any time I have the opportunity, I love to engage with them. I can remember a couple of years ago, at a family reunion overhearing my mom laughing as she said “Welp, there goes Courtney, she’s found the children”. There is no doubt in my mind that the Lord has put me on this planet to be a mom. I realize that coming from a university educated woman, this statement may seem odd and even ignorant, but I am completely certain that the Lord has crafted my passions and my abilities especially towards children. I believe that there is no higher calling in this world than to help bring up a child. You have the opportunity to shape and mold that child, to encourage them and cultivate their unique personality, and to steer them towards their true father and source of identity, Jesus Christ. I believe this with all of my heart and I love to jump on opportunities when I get to carry out the call that has been given to me.

Perhaps this is why it was so hard for me when my motherhood was cut drastically short.

Pregnancy is, for all, a time of heightened emotion. For some, these emotions are that of fear, guilt and uncertainty. For me, and others like me, we are overcome with joy and excitement. From the moment that I knew I had a life growing inside of me, I was incredibly thankful and devoted to nurturing and caring for that life to the best of my ability. God had answered mine and Jacob’s prayers and we were going to be parents! What a wonderful blessing! I knew the risks since I am constantly surround by pregnancy where I volunteer at Hope Pregnancy Center, so we were selective with who we told. I knew that 1 out of 6 pregnancies ended in miscarriage, and although I considered my risks very low, I was still cautious.

Because I have a wonderful friend at Hope who just so happens to be a nurse, I was able to see my baby from its very beginnings. A 5 weeks Jacob and I were able to see the yolk sac and the “substance” or fetal pole that would form our baby’s body (Psalm 139:16). A week later, we went back and we saw our baby’s heartbeat for the first time. The relief that flooded me when I saw that little flicker was so reassuring. My baby’s heart was beating, and now my chance of miscarrying is less that 5%. Praise God for this little miracle and the evidence of its life.

The next week I had my first OB appointment and again, Jacob and I were able to see our little one’s heartbeat. It had grown since we had seen it last and again we praised the healthy development of our baby. Everything was going as planned and my expectations were being fulfilled perfectly. The doctor said that everything looked great and I wouldn’t need to see him for another month. Perfect, I thought, everything is perfect.

And it was. But it wasn’t the perfect that I had anticipated. It was the perfect plan of our Lord, but it was far from the perfect expectations of my human mind.

The next day, I began to bleed and have some cramping. From counseling pregnant clients on a weekly basis, I knew the warning signs by heart and immediately called my doctor. The nurses reassured me that everything was fine and just to keep an eye on it. They instructed me to call back if there were any changes. I, however, knew that something was amiss. Throughout the day, the bleeding and cramping increased. I cried and begged the Lord to save my baby. I made promises for the baby’s future: dedicating him to the Lord and promising that I would do my utmost to raise up a soldier for His army. I have never prayed so hard or fervently in all of my life. Please God, save my baby.

We decided to go ahead and go into the doctor’s office and the doctor again did an ultrasound. At first she reassured us that she had found the heartbeat and all was well, but then it began to flicker. The heartbeat was irregular and we were told that there was a 50% we would lose the baby. I was racked by sobs as I prayed that the Lord would spare my child. That he would save the precious life that he had placed inside of me. That he would allow me to become a mother and fulfill my calling.

But that wasn’t His plan.

The next day, I had a complete miscarriage. We went to the doctor and he confirmed that my body had taken care of everything on its own. I had been praying for this because I knew that a D&C would add further insult to my already brutal injury. Praise the Lord for small victories. Jacob and I held each other and sobbed as we mourned the loss of our first child. Although we had only known about our sweet baby for a month, we loved it dearly. Jacob was a wonderful source of comfort and support. Knowing when to hold me and tell me how much he loved me, and knowing when to let me have space to process and work through my grief. Without my husband, I believe that my grief would have swallowed me but he gently held me afloat. Jacob has a heart that at times I believe is even bigger than mine, but he was able to find the perfect balance between grieving along-side me and being strong when I needed. He made my grief easier to bear and he was constantly pointing me towards biblical truths and comforts. He was doing his best to lead our family into the Lord’s arms in crisis, just as he should.

I however, wasn’t having it. I was angry with God. He had taken my baby away. He had caused me to feel like there was a fire ravaging my heart and licking me clean of any joy I had. I sat in my bed and screamed at Him. I questioned His goodness and His love for me. I told him that he was unjust and unkind. And throughout it all, I knew in the back of my mind that what I was proclaiming was all lies. I knew that he loved me more than I could possibly imagine and that with every tear and painful heartbeat, He suffered alongside me. It would just take me a little bit of time to recognize it again.

After a few days, when the wound was less raw, I decided to order a Christian devotional for mothers’ who’ve experienced miscarriage (I would highly recommend it and it can be found at http://www.amazon.com/Grieving-Child-I-Never-Knew/dp/0310227771 ).  Although I was doing my best to bury my pain under the extreme business of my life, I knew that eventually I would have to face my loss and heal from it. My wonderful hubby was set to leave for our new home in New York on Saturday, June 1^st, a week and a half after our miscarriage and I wasn’t sure how I was going to get on without him. He had been a constant companion in my grief and my escapes during that first week and I was dreading facing the weeks ahead without him by my side. I began to pray that the Lord would prepare me for his leave and show me how to deal with my grief while he was away. It was that day that my devotional arrived, and although I was apprehensive about facing my grief, I knew that it would somehow comfort me in my loss without my husband.

The day Jacob left, I began my journey through the devotional. The very first night, the devotional asked me what I was using to hide my grief behind, was it business, denial, numbness? And I began to take a look at myself and where I had turned to for comfort after our loss. I had turned to activities, to my husband, and to other distractions. Never once had I turned to the Lord. Never once had I looked into his word to hear his words of comfort and compassion. I had completely ignored the one person who could offer me true comfort and peace. And I saw that my anger and frustration with the Lord was futile when all he truly wanted to do was comfort me and take his broken lamb up into his arms and back to the flock. He stripped me of all other comforts, including my husband, so that I could take a good look at my life and see where I had placed my stock. I have been forced to rely on him daily for strength and comfort through my grief. And he has been so faithful. This song has kept running through my head and sums up the situation perfectly

Scars and struggles on the way
But with joy our hearts can say
Never once did we ever walk alone
Carried by Your constant grace
Held within Your perfect peace
Never once, no, we never walk alone

You are faithful God, you are faithful

(Matt Redmond)

Isaiah is my favorite book of the bible. There have been many times during my life when I have needed comfort and reassurance (and admonition) and I have almost always heard, it seems, exactly what the Lord wanted to tell me through this book. This time was no exception. Isaiah 43:1b-3a says “Do not fear, for I have redeemed you; I have called you by name, you are mine. When you pass through the waters, I will be with you; and through the rivers, they shall not overwhelm you; when you walk through fire you shall not be burned, and the flame shall not consume you. For I am the Lord you God, the Holy One of Israel, your Savior.” The fire of my grief and pain will NOT consume me, because I am His. He promises that he “will guide me continually and satisfy my desire in scorched places and make my bones strong; and I shall be like a watered garden, like a spring of water, whose waters do not fail” (Isaiah 59:11). Not only will he not allow the flames to consume me, he promises that he will take the scorched places in my heart and fill them with his presence and healing, making them a spring of water. He is faithful. He is faithful. He is faithful.

I am so incredibly grateful for the precious gift of my baby. Although I was never able to hold it and look into its beautiful eyes, I know that one day I will see his or her face and he will know me. My child was never really MY child, he was the Lord’s son or daughter all along. I was only given stewardship of the little life for a while and then the Lord chose to bring him back home. I have peace in knowing that the Lord “knows the plans he has for me, plans for welfare and not for evil, to give me a future and a hope.” (Jeremiah 29:11). His plans are greater and higher than what I can comprehend. They are greater than my unfulfilled expectations and my hurt. Although my pain is fresh and I wake up to face it every day, I know that I have a hope that can’t be vanquished by death. I know that Christ has conquered death and because of that, death no longer binds me or my baby. We have been given victory over death through Christ. I can rejoice because I know that this pain is temporary and that my child is waiting in the glory that I will someday see. I also know that what the Lord has placed the desire to be a mom in my heart for a reason. Whether he intends to give me biological children of my own, or to stand in as a mother for another’s child, I don’t yet know, but I DO know that I plan to rejoice and accept whatever he has planned. Even in my grief, He is good. Even in my uncertainty, He is security. And even when I falter, He is faithful. Knowing this, I can face my grief and my future with the certainty that he will work all things for my good and find rest and peace in His promise.