I’m a mother grieving the loss of her baby. I went through a miscarriage, but it took my body weeks to understand and process that I was no longer pregnant. There was a part of my mind in denial and a big part of my heart feeling an overwhelming amount of grief and sadness.
I sometimes feel that emptiness, that loss, when I see mothers holding their babies. I was expecting a baby to hold and love later this fall. Since the day my fiance and I found out I was pregnant (February 23), we were looking forward to seeing our precious baby.
Our baby was unplanned. We’re both seniors in college, graduating from Washington State University this May. We didn’t expect a baby during our last semester in college. We were planning to get married, but we didn’t want a baby until five years from now.
But our little miracle happened. We chose life, and our lives dramatically changed in the past two months. We got engaged on April 2 and celebrated an elopement wedding ceremony on April 8. Despite our beautiful engagement and wedding, we’re both grieving.
I spent two months preparing to be a mom. I followed all of the doctor’s orders, ate healthy food, exercised, took my prenatal vitamins every day, managed my stress and workload, and read What to Expect When You’re Expecting. I did all the things you’re supposed to do to have a healthy pregnancy. But there’s a part of me that feels like I failed. Did I do something wrong? Did my body fail me?
I’ve been carrying an empty gestational sac since my first ultrasound on March 13. Doctors advised me and my fiance to do another ultrasound two weeks later. I ended up visiting the ER a week before our ultrasound on March 31 due to heavy cramps and light spotting. The gestational sac was still empty. And on our final ultrasound, doctors confirmed I had a miscarriage and was no longer pregnant.
I did my best to be hopeful after the first ultrasound, but I already felt that something was wrong. About a week before I went into the ER, I stopped feeling pregnant. I noticed my baby bump was shrinking. My nausea, food aversions, and cravings were gone.
To be told I lost my baby is heartbreaking. I never even got to see him or her. I didn’t get the chance to see my baby.
I wrote to my baby in a journal, hoping to give it to my child when he or she was older. I still have that journal, and it hurts sometimes to look at it. Its pages were filled with so much hope and excitement. Right now, I feel like all of that joy was taken away from me. I love my baby, and I miss her.
Despite this loss, there is a promise I hold on to: “Even in the midst of grief, God heals. Even in the midst of pain, God moves.” This is a truth and a promise I have leaned on for many years.
The day after I went to the ER, I was at church playing the drums with the worship team. I felt God there. “I am with you always.” God met me in my state of anxiety and uncertainty through the people He connected me with that day. I felt so seen.
The people I talked to were so encouraging, and one of the church elders ended up sharing his wife’s story of a miscarriage during her first pregnancy. He prayed over us, and it was a reminder that God takes care of His daughters. God is with me always—in the moments of joy and in the seasons of pain.
I started 2023 with Jeremiah 29:11 being spoken over my life. “For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the Lord, “plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.” I believe in that.
In God’s time, I will be able to experience motherhood all over again. I will get to love and hold a sweet, precious life. I will see my husband become a father someday. I know with confidence that God is able to create beauty from ashes and turn my mourning into joy.