When the Pain of Miscarriage Strikes Again

In the summer of 2016, my husband and I asked God to bless us with a child. Months passed with no signs of pregnancy. After I finally got a positive pregnancy test, I went to Walmart to get John a Valentine’s Day card, revealing the news to him. As he read the card his eyes got big, his hands started to shake, and he said, “Wow, it’s really happening!” We were so happy God had answered our prayer. I couldn’t wait for the first ultrasound, to see our bundle of joy.

One week before my first ultrasound, I started having bad cramps. I called my mom and explained all my symptoms, hoping and praying this was normal and everything would be fine. The pain worsened, then came the bleeding, all leading to my first miscarriage. I sat in my apartment by myself and cried. I cried loud and hard, filling all the emptiness inside and around with my grief. How could God do this to me?

We had been so happy and excited. I had made my private Pinterest board with all kinds of freebies for new moms. My mom and I were thinking through dates for a baby shower. I was thrilled to be due in October, because then I would be off for the whole holiday season. It just seemed so perfect.

And in a moment, it all went away.

Compounded Grief

As time moved on, so did I. Soon enough it was October, and we were getting ready to celebrate John’s birthday, which was also the due date of our first child. We were now pregnant with our second child. I was both happy and afraid, but I decided to rejoice in this pregnancy and not be ruled by fear. Surely God wouldn’t let us experience two miscarriages back-to-back, right?

We went to the mountains with a group of friends for the weekend. Amid the fun and laughter of playing games, hiking, and eating terrible amounts of cake, I started to bleed again, and fear gripped my heart. I begged God not to let me go through this again. My heart couldn’t take another miscarriage. A few days later the bleeding worsened, and it was clear I was having another miscarriage.

Even though I realized God had permitted all this pain, he was also the only one who could truly heal me.

This time I barely had the energy to fight with God. All I wanted and needed was his healing power. Even though I realized he had permitted all this pain, he was also the only one who could truly heal me.

As I clung to my Savior during this time, he revealed four major truths to me.

1. God Has Promised that My Life Has Meaning

Even if I never feel the joy of having my own child, God has given me ample opportunity to invest in and mentor younger women. Ultimately, my desire to have children is also my desire to raise children who love the Lord and make him known. I get to do that now in a small way with others’ children. What a gift.

2. God Has Promised that His Glory Is Bigger Than My Suffering

In this world we will have trouble, Jesus promised (John 16:33), but how great is his overcoming power and the glories that will be revealed to us. The suffering we face cannot compare with them (Rom. 8:18–20). The pain in this fallen world is deep, very deep. But his glory is deeper still.

3. God Has Promised Me His Presence

“And I will be with you always,” Jesus said, “even to the end of the age” (Matt. 28:20). This isn’t a conditional statement. The risen King promises to go and remain with his disciples—always. Even in my pain, then, my Savior will be with me.

4. God Has Shown Me Who He Is

God simply is. I may never understand why he orchestrated these events. He has ordained the pain of miscarriage for me, while friends and family conceive easily or even accidentally.

The Lord’s ways are so often mysterious. He fully forgives. He brings prosperity. He brings calamity. He punishes. He gives grace to the undeserving. God just simply is, and he wouldn’t be God if we could decode his every plan. His grace is enabling me to cling to my Savior. His grace is enabling me to understand a little better what humility really is.

His grace is enabling me to mourn and weep, and in spite of all the tears, to not lose hope.