I Lost My Unborn Baby

MONDAY, April 10, 2000, was a warm and sunny day, so I set out to do some errands. I was just entering the second trimester of pregnancy, and although I did not feel very energetic, I was happy to be outdoors. Then, while waiting in the checkout line at a grocery store, I had the feeling that something was wrong with me.

My fears were confirmed when I got home. I was bleeding—something that had not happened during my two previous pregnancies— and it terrified me! I called my doctor, but he suggested that I wait and come in the next day, since I had an appointment then anyway. Before my husband and I put our two children to bed that night, we prayed together, asking Jehovah to give us strength in whatever way we might need it. Eventually, I fell asleep.

But about two o'clock, I woke up in intense pain. Gradually the pain subsided, but just as I was falling asleep again, it recurred, this time coming in regular waves. The bleeding also increased, and I realized that I was having contractions. My mind raced, trying to figure out if I had done something to cause this to happen, but I could not think of anything I had done wrong.

By five o'clock in the morning, I knew that I had to get to the hospital. When my husband and I arrived, we were relieved to find ourselves in the hands of very kind, helpful, and empathetic emergency-room staff. Then, two hours later, the doctor gave us the news we dreaded: I had lost my baby.

Because of the earlier symptoms, I was prepared for this outcome and took the news reasonably well. Additionally, my husband was at my side the whole time and proved to be very supportive. But now that we would be going home without a baby, we wondered what we would tell our two children, Kaitlyn, who was six years old, and David, who was four.

What Do We Tell Our Children?

The children had gone to bed aware that something was wrong, but how would we tell them that their future little brother or sister had died? We decided to be open and honest. My mother helped us to that end by telling the children that the baby would not be coming home with us. When we arrived, they ran to meet us and gave us big hugs and kisses. Their first question was, "Is the baby OK?" I couldn't answer, but my husband, holding us in a tight circle, said: "The baby has died." We held one another and cried, which helped our healing to begin.

We were not quite prepared, though, for our children's later reactions. For instance, about two weeks after my miscarriage, it was announced at the local congregation of Jehovah's Witnesses that an elderly Witness and close friend of our family had passed away. David, the four-year-old, sobbed uncontrollably, so my husband carried him outside. After calming down, David asked why his friend had died. Then he asked why the baby had died. Next, he said to his father: "Are you going to die?" He also wanted to know why Jehovah God had not yet destroyed Satan and started to "fix things up." Indeed, we were surprised to see how much was going through his young mind.

Kaitlyn also asked many questions. When playing with her dolls, she often pretended that one doll was sick, while the other dolls became nurses or family members. She set up a cardboard box as a doll hospital and occasionally pretended that one of her dolls had died. Our children's questions and games gave us many opportunities to teach them important lessons about life and how the Bible can help us to cope with trials. We also reminded them of God's purpose to make the earth a beautiful paradise, free from all forms of suffering and pain—even death.—Revelation 21:3, 4.

How I Coped With the Loss

When I first returned home from the hospital, I felt emotionally numb and disoriented. All around me were things that needed to be done, but I did not know where to start. I called a couple of friends who had been through the same experience, and they were very comforting. One dear friend sent us flowers and offered to take the children for the afternoon. I appreciated her warm concern and practical help so much!

I sorted out family photos into albums. I looked at and held the unworn baby clothes—the only tangible reminders of the baby I had lost. For weeks I was on an emotional roller coaster. Some days I could not stop crying—even with all the support I had from family and friends. At times, I thought I was losing my mind. Being around friends who were pregnant was particularly difficult. Previously, I had imagined a miscarriage to be a mere "blip" in a woman's life, something we got over without too many problems. How wrong I was!*

Love—The Best Cure

Along with the passing of time, an effective cure was the love shown by my husband and by fellow Christians. One Witness made dinner and brought it over. A congregation elder and his wife brought flowers and a loving card, and they stayed for the evening. We knew how busy they were, so their thoughtfulness touched our hearts. Many other friends sent cards or flowers. The simple words "We're thinking of you" meant so much! One member of the congregation wrote: "We view life as Jehovah does—as something most precious. If he knows when a sparrow falls to the ground, he surely knows when a human fetus falls." My cousin wrote: "We are so amazed at the miracle of birth and life, and we are equally surprised when it doesn't work out."

While at the Kingdom Hall a few weeks later, I felt weepy and had to leave just before the meeting began. Two dear friends who noticed my tearful exit sat with me in the car, held my hand, and made me laugh. Soon all three of us went back inside. What a joy to have friends that stick "closer than a brother"!—Proverbs 18:24.

As the news spread, I was surprised to learn how many fellow Witnesses had been through the same experience. Even some whom I had not been so close to previously were able to offer special consolation and encouragement. Their loving support in my hour of need reminded me of the Biblical saying: "A true companion is loving all the time, and is a brother that is born for when there is distress."—Proverbs 17:17.

Comfort From God's Word

The Memorial of Christ's death came the week after my miscarriage. One evening as we were reading the Bible accounts about Jesus' last days, it suddenly occurred to me: 'Jehovah knows the pain of loss. He lost his own son!' Because Jehovah is our heavenly Father, I sometimes forget how understanding he is and how much empathy he has for his servants—male and female. In that instant I felt an overwhelming sense of relief. I felt closer to Jehovah than ever before.

I also derived much encouragement from Bible-based publications, particularly past issues of the Watchtower and Awake! magazines that dealt with the loss of a loved one. For example, the articles on "Facing the Loss of a Child" in the August 8, 1987, issue of Awake! were very helpful, as was the brochure When Someone You Love Dies. ^#

An End to Grief

As time went by, I knew that I was healing when I could laugh without feeling guilty and when I could have a conversation without it coming back around to the baby I had lost. Even so, I bumped into emotional land mines on occasion, such as when I saw friends who had not heard about the miscarriage or when a family with a new baby visited our Kingdom Hall.

Then one morning I woke up feeling that the clouds had at last lifted. Even before I opened my eyes, I had a sense of healing—a peace and calm that I had not felt for months. Still, when I found myself pregnant about a year after I lost the baby, thoughts about the possibility of another miscarriage surfaced. Happily, I gave birth to a healthy baby boy in October 2001.

I still grieve for the baby I lost. Yet, the whole episode has increased my appreciation for life, for my family, for fellow Christians, and for God—who comforts us. The experience has also underscored the poignant truth that God does not take our children but that "time and unforeseen occurrence befall [us] all."—Ecclesiastes 9:11.

How I look forward to the time when God will eliminate all mourning, outcry, and pain, including the physical and emotional pain of miscarriage! (Isaiah 65:17-23) Then all obedient humans will be able to say: "Death, where is your victory? Death, where is your sting?"—1 Corinthians 15:55; Isaiah 25:8. —Contributed.

* Research shows that each person responds in a unique way to miscarriage. Some feel confused, others disappointed, still others overwhelmingly sad. Grief is a natural reaction to a serious loss such as miscarriage, say researchers, and is a part of the healing process.

# Published by Jehovah's Witnesses.