Miscarriage and and the Miracle of Life

It had happened again. In fact, it was the third time in four years that the same woman, performing the ultrasound at the gynaecological clinic, had turned towards me, shaken her head, and told me that our baby was dead; that there was no heartbeat. Not allowing the tears to fall, not yet, my husband and I edged our way through the queue of other pregnant women, all in various stages of swolleness, waiting outside. This baby would never swell my belly in that way any more, not now. It wasn't to be.

Practical matters to attend to pushed aside the desire to dwell on our sorrow. We needed to act fast. Unlike last time, when we were taken by surprise by the bleeding, we had a few days before anything would happen. We collected the children from their friends and greeted them without the happy smile they were expecting. Another sibling in heaven now. That makes three, waiting for them up there. It wasn't to be. God had other plans.

Wonderful husband spent the afternoon on the phone; phoning friends for advice, clinics, the insurance company, the airlines.... I spent the afternoon cleaning. I had to keep busy, and we would be having friends to stay in our house to look after our kids while we were away. I had to do something. Anything but wallow. I wasn't ready for the tears yet.

The next day we flew to Moscow, the two of us. Was it wrong to enjoy being on a plane without children for the first time in a long while? We made our way on the metro to the apartment of some gracious friends. The next three days were spent visiting the western clinic. We marvelled at the difference in the standard of care compared to last time. There was sadness, yes, but there would be no trauma. It would be straightforward and trustworthy. We even got a little picture of our baby, something the clinic in our home town had assumed we wouldn't want. A general anaesthetic and my baby and I had been parted, for now. There was no fault, no blame, just 'one of those things', 'something to be expected at your age'.

We said goodbye, physically, to our baby on February 4th, exactly 7 months before its 'due date'. Since then we've had a chance to reflect, to grieve, to pray, to question and to be comforted. Here are some of the lessons I've learned from this experience, and I wanted to share them with you:

1) Life is Hard
It's a cliche, but it's true. As Christians we can't escape the sadness and the hurt that there is in our fallen world. God never promises that life will be easy. I've heard it said many times that He is interested not in our happiness but in our holiness, and it's often through the painful experiences of life that we grow most in our faith. He shields us from many things, and only in heaven will we realise exactly how many, but, in His infinite wisdom, He chooses not to shield us from all that is wrong with the world.

2) Life is in God's Hands
How comforting to know that God is in control! Even when we don't understand why He has allowed something to happen, we can trust Him that He had some higher good in mind. We may never know this side of heaven what that higher good was, but we can trust our lives into His hands. Yes He is sovereign and all-powerful, but He is also good, and He loves us. Sometimes He wants us to pray for miracles, because He is a miracle-worker, and times like this shouldn't stop us from continuing to pray for those miracles, but when those miracles don't come we don't have to look around for someone to blame. We can trust Him that He knows what He's doing. Even in the midst of a painful experience we can see how God is in control. My husband and I will always be thankful that we took the ultrasound when we did, and not when we'd wanted to a week or two earlier. In making sure that the clinic was all booked up until February 1st, God allowed us time to find out the sad news long before the bleeding would start and I would have to be rushed to the local hospital in an ambulance, like last time. He was also in control when he cleared our friends' schedule in Moscow for that very weekend, giving us a safe haven in which to receive prayer and comfort during those few days.

3) Life is Shared
God created us for community. The church is the body of Christ, and if one member is hurting then all the members feel it. God ministers to us through others coming alongside with words of comfort, with prayers and with offers of practical help. How wonderful to see the body of Christ rallying round. How thankful we are for our sisters and brothers who willingly share our pain. We certainly experienced a lot of love and care during that week. Perhaps the most comfort is received from those who have also gone through similar, painful experiences. The Bible says that we can comfort others with the comfort we ourselves have received, and just as those people have ministered to me in a special way, I know that one day I will be stronger and better-placed to comfort another who may be grieving in a similar way.

4) Life is Precious
Finally, if there's one thing you come away with after having a miscarriage, it's that life is precious. It's a miracle. It should never be taken for granted. Just a few days later I heard that a close friend had lost her baby in the second trimester....again..., and that a friend of a friend had had a still birth. How fortunate I am to have three, beautiful, healthy children already! Every day we need to thank God for the children we already have; every day we should appreciate them and appreciate the wonder that they bring to our lives. We don't know how many days are numbered for us or our children. It may be a few weeks, a few months or many long years. For this baby its days were already numbered at eight weeks old pre-term. Let's enjoy and be thankful for each day of life that God gives us. Life is precious, so precious.

Abide in Him!



Photo credits: freedigitalphotos.net/ worradmu - sad woman, Victor Habbick - decaying rose