Pre-Order So God Made a Mother

To the doctor who cared for me,

I had never met you until the day I walked into your office, and you calmly asked me to lie down for my scan.

For you, this was kind of routine. . . just another scan to confirm a baby had died in utero. For me it was far from routine, it was torture.

RELATED: A Mother’s Love Can’t Be Measured In Weeks

I could hardly answer you as you gently enquired how I was doingmy ability to communicate had pretty much vanished over the previous 48 hours.

Tears just streamed down my face as I nodded yes to your question, to confirm I was OK.

I wasn’t.

I lied.

I was far from OK.

I was broken.

I did not even recognize myself when I looked in the mirror.

You smiled at me, the sort of smile that says I don’t believe it, but I won’t challenge your answer.

You then said, “Shall we just start the scan?”

I nodded yes.

As I stared at the screen, I held my breath. My faith was so strongI totally believed I might be about to witness a miracle. Yes, I had been told days before my daughter had died, but since then I had endlessly begged God to bring her back to life.

I watched the monitor for any sign of life, but my little girl was just . . . still.

She was no longer kicking and waving back at me as she had a mere six days ago.

Time stood still, as my mind became crammed with questions, all involving the words, why? and how? I could not ask any of them, thoughit was like I had been struck dumb.

RELATED: We Lost Our Baby at 17 Weeks Pregnant

You carried on, recording measurements and entering information into the computer.

You thought I was silent, but I was screaming so loudly it deafened my ears.

A silent scream . . . a scream someone can only produce when their world has just imploded in front of their eyes. A scream so loud, so powerful it cannot be heard by human ears.

You could have given me platitudes like so many others had, but you didn’t.

You silently took my hand, looked into my eyes, and said, “My wife and I have lost three babies, too.” You then sat stroking my hand as I sobbed not only for the child we had lost but because you understood. You got it.

I knew you did not pity us, you empathized with us, and that meant your words were authentic and genuine.

You could have easily then slipped into an official doctor mode, but you didn’t. You took the time to explain things to us, being careful to avoid using common medical jargon.

You treated us like family, and I am not sure you are truly aware of what a gift that was.

We were aware of the fact you had another family waiting to see you, but you did not rush us, you allowed us time to sit and try to regain our composure before we exited the room.

RELATED: To the Nurse Who Held My Stillborn Baby

Thank you seems too small a word for helping us through that time, so instead, I will simply say without your help I don’t know what we would have done.

When you trained to be a doctor, I know you did so to help save lives. It would be easy to think the only way you can do that is by performing life-saving surgeries, but by offering us true compassion, you helped save usperhaps not from death, but from our hearts being even more broken as they lay shattered on your office floor.

Previously published on HuffPost UK

So God Made a Mother book by Leslie Means

If you liked this, you'll love our new book, SO GOD MADE A MOTHER available for pre-order now!

Pre-Order Now

Zoe Clark-Coates 

Zoe Clark-Coates BCAH is an award-winning charity CEO, business leader, author and TV show host. Following the loss of five babies, she co-founded the charity 'The Mariposa Trust' (widely known by the name of its primary division 'sayinggoodbye.org') with her husband Andy, enabling her to use her training as a counselor, as well as her business expertise. As an innovative leader, she has steered the charity to become a leading support organization globally, providing vital support that reaches over 50,000 people each week. As a gifted communicator, she has earned the respect of politicians, the government, and many high profile celebrities and influencers. She has a TV show called Soul Tears where she interviews celebrities and people of note about their journeys through loss. She is also a trusted expert and media commentator for many other programs on BBC, ITV, and Channel 5. In 2018, she was appointed by the Sectary of State for Health as co-chair of the National Pregnancy Loss Review, this is the first government review ever conducted into the care and support provided to all people, who lose babies before 24-weeks gestation. Zoe's three books, Saying Goodbye, The Baby Loss Guide, and Beyond Goodbye are captivating and are essential reading for anyone who is grieving. Follow her on Instagram at @Zoeadelle and Facebook https://www.facebook.com/ZoeAdelleCC/

Losing My Narcissistic Mother Is Complicated

In: Grief, Loss
Depressed woman sitting on kitchen floor silhouette

It’s so utterly destructive. It’ll knock the wind—no the very oxygen—out of your sails. It’s nauseating. Conflicting. Terrifying. And so very, very confusing. I did not know what to do with the information. The way I received this information made it more painful and confusing. I was angry.  My mom and I have never had a good relationship. She had her demons to fight, but by the time I was born, she must’ve been done fighting them. She showed one picture to the outside world, a perfect and happy family. But behind closed doors, it was just like the negatives...

Keep Reading

I Am the Griever

In: Grief, Loss, Motherhood
Mother kissing child's forehead

As I write this, my mother-in-law is in the ICU. We don’t expect her to leave.  She’s too young. Sixty-four. We got the call on Saturday.  “Get here this week,” they said. So we did. With a newborn, a 3-year-old, a 5-year-old, and a soon-to-be 16-year-old. We managed ICU visits with my in-laws and juggled childcare so we could all take turns seeing the matriarch. For the last time? Maybe.  The logistics are all-consuming and don’t leave a lot of space for anything else. Also, I hate logistics. My son asks questions nobody knows how to answer: Will I die...

Keep Reading

To the Friend Who Just Lost a Parent: It’s Going to Hurt and You’re Going to Grow

In: Grief, Grown Children, Loss
Sad woman hands over face

Oh, the inevitable, as we age into our mid to late 30s and beyond. The natural series of life states that losing a parent will become more commonplace as we, ourselves, continue to age, and I am beginning to see it among my circle of friends. More and more parents passing, and oh, my heart. My whole heart aches and fills with pain for my friends, having experienced this myself three years ago.  It’s going to hurt. It’s going to hurt more than you could expect. The leader of your pack, the glue, the one you turn to when you...

Keep Reading

Your Brother Is With Jesus Now

In: Faith, Grief, Loss
Brother and sister in yellow outfits smiling on park bench

“Thao is with Jesus now,” we told her, barely choking out the whisper. Jesus. This invisible being we sing about. Jesus. The baby in the manger? Jesus. How can we explain Jesus and death and loss and grief to a 3-year-old? And now, how can we not? We live it, breathe it, and dwell in loss since the death of her brother, our son, Thao. Here we are living a life we never wanted or dreamed of. Here we are navigating loss and death in a way our Creator never intended. What words can I use to describe death to...

Keep Reading

Don’t Delete the Picture You Think You Look Bad In

In: Grief, Living, Loss
Woman holding phone with picture of her and daughter, color photo

Don’t delete the picture—the one you look bad in. I said it. You heard me. Don’t delete the picture, that picture—you know the one, the one with the double chin or the bad angle. The picture that is not so flattering. The picture that accentuates your forehead lines or the one taken next to your skinny best friend. We are all so hard on ourselves. Many of us are striving for a better complexion or a thinner physique. Sometimes scrutinizing ourselves and zooming in on a picture—seeing things the world does not see. Don’t delete the picture. RELATED: Take the...

Keep Reading

Things that Hurt and Things that Help after Someone You Love Has a Miscarriage

In: Grief, Loss, Motherhood
young woman with arms crossed across stomach

I am sadly no stranger to pregnancy loss. Out of seven pregnancies, I have been blessed with one beautiful boy on earth, one miracle currently growing inside of me, and five precious angels in Heaven. As a result, I have plenty of experience in dealing with the aftermath of miscarriage. During this period of intense grief and loss, I have had many well-meaning people tell me things they believed would make me feel better, but in reality, caused me pain. Additionally, I have had close friends pull away during this period of time, and later tell me it was because...

Keep Reading

Even When You Can’t Find Joy, Jesus Is There

In: Faith, Grief, Loss
Sad woman through pane of rain covered glass

The international church service was vibrant with voices lifted up in songs of praise. Many clapped their hands and some even danced before God. But I wanted to be invisible. Joy felt like a land depicted in a fairy tale. I had returned from the hospital the day before—a surgery to remove the baby who had died in my womb. Watching this church buzz with happiness unearthed my fragileness. I slouched in my chair and closed my eyes. Tears trickled down my freckled face. My mind knew God was in control, but my heart ached as yet another thing I...

Keep Reading

He Mends Our Broken Hearts

In: Faith, Grief, Loss
Praying hands of woman with bracelets

Rays of soft sunlight streamed through the curtain onto the hospital bed. I stepped to the edge of the bed, taking a moment to soak in his face before gently holding his hand. Eighty-nine years is a rich, full life, and each passing day revealed more convincingly it was time for him to go. Grief and relief shared the space in my heart as I carried the weight of understanding each visit held the opportunity to be my last.  When he felt my hand, his eyes opened, and he gifted me a smile. Pop Pop always had a smile for...

Keep Reading

This Is As Close to Heaven As I Can Get

In: Grief, Loss
Sunrise over the ocean, color photo

I have sat here a million times over my life—on good days, on bad days, with friends, with family. I have celebrated my highest points and cried here at my lowest. I am drawn here, pulled in a way. When I have not been here in some time, the sea calls my soul home. My soul is at peace here. It has always been. Maybe it is the tranquility of the waves, or the sun shining on my face. Maybe it is the solitude I find here. I love her (the sea) in all seasons, when she is calm, when...

Keep Reading

10 Things Bereaved Parents Want You to Know about Child Loss

In: Grief, Loss, Motherhood
Sad couple hug in hallway

My first baby died. After a perfect full-term pregnancy, she was stillborn. That was 10 years ago. Ten years I’ve spent wondering who she would have been. Ten years I’ve spent missing someone I hoped to know but never got the chance to. In those ten years, I’ve learned so much about grief, love, and life.  Grief is love. When they laid my stillborn daughter’s cold and lifeless body in my arms, my world was broken into before this nightmare began and after, where I was forever cursed to live with it. I thought I would never be the same...

Keep Reading