My husband Brett and I found out we were pregnant in early 2008. We were as happy as could be being pregnant with our first child, dreaming and making plans for the future. I changed all of my bad eating habits, stopped drinking coffee, and pretty much did everything I could to ensure a healthy pregnancy.
We had our first ultrasound and everything looked great so we started telling friends and got a few baby things like a really cool crib set that was gender neutral. My mom even got us some cute little baby outfits and bibs. Everything felt certain…Life was wonderful and new.
One Thursday night I had a terrible dream. I dreamed I was in a dingy bathroom and Brett came in and I told him I was miscarrying, and to call the doctor right away. He called the doctor, but she was out of town. A huge angry rat came out of nowhere and started attacking us. I woke up from the dream and prayed and told Brett about it.
It was Friday, and that day at work I noticed some spotting (bleeding), remembering my dream from the night before, I called the doctor right away. She got me in for an ultrasound that day. She said that she wasn’t seeing any progression from the last ultrasound and didn’t see a heartbeat, but that it didn’t mean I was miscarrying either. She also told us she was GOING OUT OF TOWN and that we wouldn’t be able to get a hold of her, but if I felt any pain or increased bleeding to go straight to the hospital. I felt like the dream from the night before was a warning or preparation for us to know what to do and what to expect, but also that we were entering an ugly battle.
In the next day the pain started, and the bleeding worsened. I woke Brett up at 2 am Easter Sunday morning in extreme pain and he sat with me massaging my legs and praying for me. I was crying the pain was so bad, so we called the on call doctor and she told us to go to the ER.
We spent Easter Sunday in the ER. They gave me pain meds, which helped a lot and the doctor did a pelvic exam to see if I was miscarrying. Sure enough my cervix was open and they were very certain I was in fact miscarrying. I cried. I was devastated. What did I do wrong? How could I have tried harder to ensure my baby’s safety? Was there nothing they could do other than send me home with pain meds and let the baby pass? It seemed so insensitive, so wrong, so unfair.
We went to my parent’s house that night and decided to stay there for a couple days since I needed lots of help. I cried in my parent’s arms and they cried too.
We decided to name our baby Lily for the Easter lily. (My parents gave us a white lily that night. It was such a sweet gift in such a crazy time.) We both thought our baby was a girl from dreams we had about her, so we stuck with it to give our hearts some closure. It was hard to be losing our baby on Easter Sunday. A day that is supposed to be filled with much hope and promise was filled with sadness and emptiness for us. We knew every Easter from that moment on wouldn’t be the same, yet God STILL showed us His love and hope in those moments. Knowing that we don’t belong in this broken place, but we were meant for more. That Jesus rose to life as Lily would also be raised. She is in heaven with Jesus now, in his presence, in his arms. “Just a moment there is better than here.” As JJ Heller writes in the song Olivianna.
I bled and was in gut wrenching pain for 2 weeks. I was weak and I was emotionally traumatized. I was living the death of my child everyday. I continued to bleed, knowing there was nothing I could do to stop it. I felt so out of control.
I remember lying helplessly on the couch praying and feeling the closeness of Jesus. That as I wept, I knew He was right there with me weeping too.
People from our church, friends and family brought us food, cards, flowers, left us messages on facebook, emailed us and prayed with us. I cried each time I received something, feeling so blessed in such a dark time. They were a great extension of God’s love for us. I was so grateful for them.
Somewhere in that time we received the crib set we ordered months before, and Brett told me, “I’m so sorry honey. I will put this away until we need it.” He was so sweet and put it away in a closet so I wouldn’t find it.
Finally, the doctor told me since the bleeding wasn’t stopping, she would need to do a procedure to “scrape” out the rest, a D&E.
I went into surgery in good spirits. I prayed a lot with Brett and my family before and had peace about everything. After the surgery, the doctor told my parents and Brett that the sac and lifeless baby was still stuck in my uterus, and it was a good thing they did the procedure when they did because of possible infection.
I cried again when I heard this, because I KNEW my baby was really gone. I felt empty and sad, like a piece of me was missing.
A couple weeks before Mother’s Day, my family and I planted a lily in honor of Lily. It was emotional to say the least. As my dad dug the hole I was thinking, it is sad I didn’t get to burry my child somewhere, but it was okay because I know she didn’t need a place to be buried, because she was in heaven with Jesus. Just in time for Mother’s Day the lily bloomed! Another LOVELY display of God’s love for us! Even in the little things like a lily blooming. He knew what it meant to me and it was a beautiful moment.
It was probably 8 months before I felt somewhat normal again. I was overwhelmed with grief, depression, and feelings of guilt and shame. People were still asking me everyday “how’s the pregnancy going?” or “how’s your baby?” not realizing I had miscarried and I had to tell them all over again about the miscarriage. In a way it was a good healing process to be able to talk about it, yet still, it brought up all of the horrific memories.
I had some great encounters with the Lord in that time. Sometimes when we are at our lowest He speaks the loudest.
I remember one occasion I was at my church sitting alone and I felt this overwhelming feeling of loneliness during worship. I made a conscience effort to worship God anyway and pushed my feelings aside. I closed my eyes to focus my mind on Him. When I opened my eyes I had this overwhelming feeling that I was singled out by God. That even though I was in a room worshiping with 3,000 people He SAW me. It was so personal and profound. I cried and peace washed over my heart and I told Him everything I was feeling about losing Lily and that I missed her. I later got prayer and I felt like a stitch was placed on my bleeding heart. That healing had begun.
In those months women who had also lost a child, came out of the woodwork and talked to me. I had no idea how many women had been through what I had. I thought I was alone, but to my surprise, many women have been through it, yet are just unable or scared to talk about it. I had many great talks with those women and we cried together, shared together and shared the hope of meeting our children in heaven. What a great hope!
God continued to pursue me and urged me to keep talking about Lily and to continue to heal. He wanted to pull out everything I had put under the rug and deal with it even though I wanted to hide all that I was dealing with. He is good like that. He doesn’t want us to stay hurt or broken. He wants us to heal so we can help others.
In the months following I was able to talk at different women’s events about my miscarriage, and how God got me through it. I cried each time, the wound still fresh, but God continued to use Lily’s story to bring people to Him.
God gave me a sweet analogy in that time through a blog of a mom, Angie, who lost her baby at birth (audreycaroline.blogspot.com) that Jesus has scars in his hands and feet as a reminder of LOVE of what He did for us, and I also carry scars of the Love of my daughter. They will never go away, but it is okay. We all have scars, but it’s what we do with them that matters.
Women came to me, wrote me letters, and shared about the children they had lost and that they had never had the courage to talk about them until I told my story. I am constantly reminded that God really does work EVERYTHING together for good, and uses every person’s story to bring Him glory!
