Remembering the Pain of Losing My Pregnancy

October is Pregnancy and Infant Loss Awareness Month. It can be a painful time for many mothers as they remember the babies that they lost before or at birth. Other mothers grieve the precious infants they brought home, loved, nursed, and gazed at incessantly, never imagining that a sudden unexpected infant death would sever the dreams they had for this little one. Although other children eventually fill their homes with laughter and love, during this month mothers of all ages reflect on those sweet lives that ended all too soon.

The Excitement of My First Pregnancy

I was the young wife of a seminary student in 1986. We had been married just over 2 years when I learned I was pregnant. I had my first OB appointment at the end of September when I was about 8 weeks pregnant. As the doctor placed the Doppler on my still-flat belly, a lightning bolt of joy struck me when I heard the rapid little heartbeat of the tiny one growing in my womb. Morning sickness had already been my daily companion for several weeks. My English students at Westminster Christian Academy knew that I might have to run out of the room to the restroom down the hall at any moment, but they knew I’d quickly return.

My best friend who also taught at WCA was several weeks ahead of me, and we loved sharing this adventure together. Our husbands were classmates at Covenant Theological Seminary. Seven of us seminary wives were pregnant at the same time, and we loved supporting each other and sharing the excitement of the new lives we were nurturing.

My clothes all still fit, but I couldn’t resist stopping by a maternity store one afternoon on my way home. The lovely cream sweater on the hanger had little pearls sewn down each sleeve; it felt like cashmere, and I had to have it! It was the only maternity item I owned, and I couldn’t wait until I had a bump later in the winter so I could wear it. I imagined how beautiful I would feel in it as my body swelled with the precious child growing within.

Losing My Pregnancy

The leaves began to turn in mid-October in St. Louis, brilliant yellow, crimson red, and burnt orange. I loved the changing seasons; life seemed perfect. That Thursday I drove to school like I did every morning, cheerfully jumping into the day with my students. When I went to the restroom at lunchtime, I saw the first blood spots when I wiped. My heart sank, but I hoped it was some normal spotting. Kind co-workers hugged me and prayed with me as I called my husband and the doctor.

I followed my doctor’s advice and got off my feet, but the bleeding continued. On Friday my doctor told me there was no heartbeat, and I was having a miscarriage, and there was nothing he could do at that point. In shock, my husband held me that night as we both cried bitter tears of anguish. The bleeding continued Saturday as we drove the hour and a half to Cutler, Illinois, where he was serving his pastoral internship. The pain and bleeding continued to worsen, and by the time we reached Miss Lillian’s house where we stayed, I could hardly walk.

She had lovingly prepared cream of potato soup that evening. The rich savory warmth was like a balm to my aching soul. I had never been in labor, so I didn’t know what I was experiencing. I just knew that the waves of pain were becoming unbearable. When we called my doctor again, he told me I would probably need a D & C to stop the bleeding and complete the miscarriage.

That night we drove back to St. Louis to the hospital. The next couple of days are a blur in my memory. Friends brought food and flowers. Many of them were still pregnant, and I was no longer a part of that special sisterhood.

After a few days, I returned to work, numb inside. Eventually, the numbness wore off, and I finally found myself able to smile. By spring I was able to host a sleepover in our darling little yellow house for all my pregnant friends. I got pregnant again about a year later and eventually had four amazing children.

Giving My Lost Babies a Name

I lost one other baby very early at about 6 weeks between my second and third children. Although I was sad, it didn’t have the devastating impact that my first loss did.

Years later my husband mentioned the book Heaven is for Real in a sermon. Intrigued, I picked up the book and began reading it that evening. I couldn’t put it down. At one point Colton tells his mom that he met his sister in Heaven. His parents had never told him about their pregnancy loss, so this news unnerved his mother. Regaining her composure, she asked him what her name was. Colton replied that she didn’t have a name because they had never named her.

Sobs racked my body as I read those words. Despite the many years since my first loss, the pain felt fresh. That night I named my first baby Christian. I won’t know until I get to Heaven if my Christian is a boy or girl, but I know I will finally get to hold him or her in my arms. It took a little longer to find a name for my second lost baby, but we finally settled on Brooke.

I’ve been involved with a wonderful ministry to mothers and babies for the last four years. Last year we felt led to create a prayer garden to honor and memorialize the infants that the mothers we serve have lost. I made a donation in memory of Christian and Brooke. Several weeks ago, my precious friend and ministry partner Tiffany presented me with my memorial paver.

The Wave of Light to Honor Lost Babies

Mothers who have lost a child need to be heard and honored. Wave of Light is one way to remember your lost babies. On October 15 at 7:00 pm local time, mothers worldwide will be lighting a candle for an hour in memory of each lost child. I have two special candles I will be lighting Tuesday evening. Will you join me wherever you are? If you are the mother of a baby who is with the Lord, please leave a comment. I want you to know that your precious child is not forgotten!