My story....
Four years into my marriage I felt very blessed. Though we were four hundred miles away from family we had good jobs, a nice home, and a beautiful nine month old baby girl. I was very surprised to find out I was pregnant again. Initially I felt very overwhelmed. I remember holding my baby and crying because she was still a baby. I wanted more time to enjoy her. I felt it was too soon. We had a plan to get in better financial shape because it was important for me to be home with our children. In order to do this, I needed to work a little while longer. Another child would mean missed work time, prolonging the total years I would need to work, and a lower income because of childcare costs. Again, I felt very overwhelmed.
It did not take long for these feelings to subside and for excitement to set in. I made a doctor appointment and we were able to confirm the pregnancy and see the heartbeat through ultrasound. I am a teacher and at the time was working in a public school. It was the end of the school year and I was not planning to tell my principal and co-workers until the beginning of the next school year. That summer was just for us. Our excitement grew and a peace set in. I did notice differences with the pregnancy but knew that each pregnancy was unique. The most noticeable change for me was that I did not “feel” pregnant. With my first pregnancy I had very noticeable physical symptoms that were missing with this one. I even made the statement that this was the “easiest pregnancy ever.”
After one of my early OB appointments I had routine testing done and was told that mild spotting could follow. I did begin to spot some but had no pain or discomfort. The spotting continued longer than it should have but there was never pain or discomfort. In between my 8 week and 12 week appointments I noticed an increase in frequency but not severity of the spotting. I mentioned it to the doctor and was told to lie down and rest when I noticed spotting. I always took their advice. At our 12 week appointment I heard the baby’s heartbeat. It was strong and so all of the fears and anxiety I had because of the spotting subsided. I was reassured that spotting can be normal is some pregnancies and as long as it did not get worse I should not worry. I scheduled my next appointments for around 16 weeks and another ultrasound appointment to hopefully find out the gender of the baby. In my heart I felt it was a boy because the pregnancies were so different.
The time had come for me to go back to work. During the first work days of the school year I set down with my principal and told him about my pregnancy and told my co-workers. I was into my second trimester and felt good. I went through the workdays and got everything ready to start the school year. The first day of school was good and I had a great group of students. The first day of work always makes you tired so I made sure to rest that evening. On August 28, 2007, the second day of school, I rolled over in bed and felt a feeling very similar to when my water broke with my first pregnancy.
I went into the bathroom and knew that something terrible was happening. I was losing so much blood. These details are not pleasant to hear but I will simply state that the longer the pregnancy lasts the more blood and tissue there is. But I still had no pain or cramping. We made plans to take our daughter to daycare as soon as they opened and then went straight to the doctor. I called work and made arrangements for the day.
When I arrived at the doctor office I had no choice but to go straight to the restroom because the blood and tissue loss was tremendous at that point. My husband was doing his best to describe what was happening to the front desk staff. The Lord delivered an angel to me in the form of Karla the OB nurse. She came to the restroom to check on me and at that point I lost any ounce of strength that I had. She got a wheelchair for me and took me to room. They quickly took me to the ultrasound room and it was at that point that, in a kind and loving way, I was told that my child was no longer living. I was taken to surgery where a d and c was performed. I was sent home in a hospital gown because my clothes were saturated in blood. From that point on my life would never be the same.
My grief...
Two years earlier I was privileged to spend a week at my grandmother’s side as she battled an illness that would eventually take her life. She was a precious soul who constantly spoke God’s word. While I was sitting with her one day a nurse came in and made conversation with her. She asked my grandmother how many children she had and my grandmother said she had four. I corrected her thinking that she must be confused. My mother only had one sibling. She looked at me and said, “No, I had four, two passed before they were born.” At the time, I vaguely remembered hearing that in the past but it did not resonate with me. It is so poignant to me now.
There is no way to describe the emotions that engulf you after the death of an unborn child. Months of planning abruptly end. Maternal hopes and dreams melt. The anticipation of seeing my children develop bonds that only siblings share dissipate. A void remains. For me there was no funeral to plan, no body to bury, no tangible memories other than the few materials I had gathered during the early months of pregnancy. But my loss was so great. My mother was able to come and spend a few days with me. Her love and support were so important to me, but she did not know how I felt. I needed someone who had experienced this loss to tell me that everything would be ok. I needed to talk about my experience to in a way validate the life of my child. I remember lying on the bathroom floor and, between tears, talking with a friend who had recently lost a child herself. She will never know what that meant to me.
Because I had had a surgical procedure I was medically excused from work for a few days, but the doctor told me after that to return when I was ready. I went back the next week and this was a horrible mistake. I was emotionally so fragile and had no protection. My advice for other women who I have met after this experience is to always take some time for you to rest and heal. Both physically and mentally. You will grieve your loss. If you do not take the time to allow a natural progression of grief it will manifest itself in another way. This is what I experienced.
I requested that my principal share my loss with the faculty of my school and ask them not to speak to me about it. I wanted to choose when and where it was discussed. I wanted to control my emotions as much as possible at work. I was hanging on by a thread. In the mornings I would drop my daughter off at daycare and I would pray that God would give me the strength to make it through that day. “I can do all things through Christ who gives me strength.” I would say this verse over and over and over every day.
The loss on our child was not the only loss I had that school year. The month before my mother had had to have emergency surgery to repair a bleed in her stomach. We were told by the surgeon that she was only hours from being too far gone to be able to save. Two months after our baby passed, my uncle and grandfather passed. A few months after that I witnessed two automobile accidents, one involving the loss of a life. The tiny thread I was holding onto began to break. I was having massive panic attacks at work. I began to see a counselor and was on anti-anxiety medicine prescribed by my physician. I was desperate for help. I searched for books, Bible studies, anything geared towards women who had been through this experience. I found very little. I felt so alone.
I am blessed with the spiritual gift of faith. It is this faith that pushes me towards Christ in stressful situations. I never questioned God, but man did I beat myself up! What had I done that was so horrible that I needed such severe punishment? In my search I turned to God’s word and during the years that followed I began to surface again. Not only did I find a life support in scripture but in music as well. At the time a song by Natalie Grant was popular and played frequently on the radio. I heard it almost every morning as I drove to work. It says...
Who told us we'd be rescued
What has changed and
Why should we be saved from nightmares
We’re asking why this happens to us
Who have died to live, it's unfair
This is what it means to be held
How it feels, when the sacred is torn from your life
And you survive
This is what it is to be loved and to know
That the promise was that when everything fell
We'd be held....
If hope if born of suffering
If this is only the beginning
Can we not wait, for one hour
Watching for our savior
This is what it means to be held
How it feels, when the sacred is torn from your life
And you survive
This is what it is to be loved and to know
That the promise was that when everything fell
We'd be held
Through this song, I was reminded daily, that I was not alone. That through everything, Jesus, my precious Jesus, was holding me. And even better, He is holding my precious baby that I will meet someday.
My Healing...
Time went by very slowly the first year. Waves continued to wash over me as milestones that should have happened in my pregnancy when unfulfilled. That Christmas my mother gave me a beautiful amethyst pendant to wear. My baby was due to be born in February. I needed the physical reminder of my baby. Over time I did feel that the counseling helped me. I was blessed to have a physician who prescribed a medicine that only stayed in my system 24 hours at a time and did not affect my personality. As I healed the medicine went away. One of the greatest helps to me was the women whom I met who knew exactly how I felt. It is a silent society, but as I shared my grief there were so many women who stood beside me and offered words of comfort. What a blessing my husband was and is to me as well. He lost a child too. He had to watch the physical trauma that engulfed me. And he was helpless. I am so blessed to have him.
Without a doubt, my greatest comfort came from the word of God. There were little verses here and there that I would lean on. I would write them on little pieces of paper and put them in my pocket. I would write them on notecards and tape them to my desk and podium. I would recite them over and over as I drove. Several months into my grief process I came across a scripture that my grandmother had often spoke of to me. Psalm 30 is a mirror image to the emotions that I felt during the months and years after the death of our child.
1 I will exalt you, Lord,
for you lifted me out of the depths
and did not let my enemies gloat over me.
2 Lord my God, I called to you for help,
and you healed me.
3 You, Lord, brought me up from the realm of the dead;
you spared me from going down to the pit.
4 Sing the praises of the Lord, you his faithful people;
praise his holy name.
5 For his anger lasts only a moment,
but his favor lasts a lifetime;
weeping may stay for the night,
but rejoicing comes in the morning.
6 When I felt secure, I said,
“I will never be shaken.”
7 Lord, when you favored me,
you made my royal mountain stand firm;
but when you hid your face,
I was dismayed.
8 To you, Lord, I called;
to the Lord I cried for mercy:
9 “What is gained if I am silenced,
if I go down to the pit?
Will the dust praise you?
Will it proclaim your faithfulness?
10 Hear, Lord, and be merciful to me;
Lord, be my help.”
11 You turned my wailing into dancing;
you removed my sackcloth and clothed me with joy,
12 that my heart may sing your praises and not be silent.
Lord my God, I will praise you forever.
I clung to this passage because it gave me the hope that I needed. I knew that the loss of our child was permanent but this passage gave me that assurance that the feelings I was having were temporary. “Weeping may last for a night, but joy comes in the morning!” I wanted my joy back! I wanted to be able to enjoy the beautiful little girl that God had given to me. I wanted to be a good wife, daughter, sister, and friend.
Two years after we lost our second child we were surprised again to find out we were expecting a child. When I went to my initial doctor visit I was given a due date that was only two days from the due date of the child I lost. I was watched very closely throughout the pregnancy and everything went fine. Three years after that, our fourth child was born! So you see, now I understand my grandmother so clearly. I have four children. In this life I have the privilege of nurturing, loving, holding, and kissing three of them. But one of my precious babies is waiting on me with my Savior. It is only through Jesus that I have the assurance that I will one day be united with not only my child but my precious grandmother and mother, who passed in 2011. I never parted ways with my grandmother that she did not pray this scripture over me, “Father watch between me and thee while we are absent one from another.” Genesis 31:49. And my healing came from knowing that He was watching after me.
