19 June 2011


In my last post, I told the story of our first pregnancy. To continue ...

When the doctor told us that the baby had passed away, we had to let people know. I can’t even express the horror that I experienced when it occurred to me that we had to tell people. Once we left the office, we started making phone calls.

I couldn’t call my own parents. I asked my husband to do it because I knew I would be too emotional to communicate. I listened while he told them that we ‘lost the baby,’ and I tried to tune him out.  He called his family and best friend, and I called my close friends and brother. Every time one of us had to deliver the news, it was heart wrenching.

Before I lost a child to miscarriage, I didn’t know what to do or say to others when they experienced that type of loss. Apparently, most people do not know how to react. People say things like, “Everything happens for a reason.” Or “Maybe God was saving you from the heartache of a child with some horrible disease.” Or “When you’re ready for children, God will bless you with them.” None of these make you feel better. In fact, the latter two comments are actually offensive. They basically explain away the pregnancy because something was either wrong with your baby or with you that made the pregnancy not worthy of completion. God allows teenage prostitutes with drug problems to have babies on occasion, and no one can tell me that they are more ‘ready’ for children than I was. And what reason could there possibly be for losing a baby.

For those of you who are not sure how to respond to someone who has just lost a child to pregnancy loss, please don’t feel bad if you have made the comments above. In truth, any attempt to show compassion is usually better than no response at all. Pregnancy loss is the loss of a family member, and it is terribly painful. Simply saying “I am so sorry for your loss” and offering to cook a meal or help in any way needed means more than you could know.

When we lost Angel, I was filled with questions of what could have been. I wondered whether she would be a baby in heaven. Would he have a childhood and be raised by my family in heaven or by Jesus Himself. Would I know her when I met her? What color were his eyes and his hair? And I had dreams about our Angel.

I was dealing with loss. Loss of a child. Loss of motherhood. Loss of what could have been. Loss of confidence. Loss of innocence... Loss of faith.

1 comment:

  1. I so agree with this. The one I hated was "OH you can just try again." Like it was know big deal you just lost a child.