Miscarriage and the Hope of Heaven {Interview with Jessalyn Hutto}

I am extremely delighted to welcome Jessalyn Hutto, author of Inheritance of Tears, to the blog this week. Jessalyn was gracious enough to grant me an interview after reading her book, and I hope the answers she shared will be an encouragement and blessing to you. I posed 4 different questions to Jessalyn. Because of the in-depth response and the delicate subject matter of each, I thought it best to spread the interview out over several posts. 

Inheritance of Tears: Trusting the Lord of Life When Death Enters the Womb, is a Gospel-centered, theologically rich resource for women who have undergone miscarriage and those who would like to minister to them. Jessalyn personally experienced two miscarriages, one first trimester, and her daughter Anastasia at 17 weeks. I was so blessed by reading her book, and cannot recommend it highly enough. You can find more of Jessalyn's writing on her blog. 

Rachel: I also appreciated your theological look at the question, "Do all babies go to heaven?" So many Christians today hold to this view without having a clear Scriptural foundation for their belief. Have you always held this position? How did you come to land on your current understanding?

Jessalyn: I have always personally believed that babies who die go to heaven, but I did not always have a firm understanding in my mind as to how the Bible could support such a claim. As a reformed baptist, I hold to the doctrine of total depravity. I believe that every single human being is conceived with a sin nature and in need of Jesus' substitutionary sacrifice for salvation. Therefore, children who die in the womb would necessitate some special form of grace that isn't conditioned upon their repentance and belief in the gospel if they are to go to heaven because they never had that option. 

Before truly studying the Biblical argument for such a gracious provision, I held my belief in infant salvation loosely- genuinely hoping that our good and loving God would accept my babies into his kingdom, while at the same time wondering how that could be possible without their willful acceptance of the gospel. The arguments I had heard at that time were not completely convincing to me. 

For this reason, infant salvation was not in an of itself a source of comfort to me during my miscarriages. It was a hope I had, but not something that I was confident in. Thankfully, the Lord was gracious, and provided abounding grace and peace to me during those awful trials nonetheless through his loving Spirit.

However, after thoroughly studying the arguments for infant salvation myself and seeing that there was a strong case to be made for God's unwillingness to judge those who had never willfully committed sin, I became convinced that children who've died in the womb are at this very moment worshiping around his throne with the rest of the redeemed. 

This is truly world-altering information for every woman who has miscarried! While nothing can take away the sting of death when it visits a mother's womb, surely the confidence that her child has been instantly transported to the kingdom of our great Savior- never having experience the pain and suffering and sin that we experience in this life- can help to ease her pain, and perhaps even give her a reason to rejoice in the midst of it. 

I didn't want to breeze over this thought, as I know for many it is a strong comfort in the wake of such devastating loss. Instead, I wanted to provide a concise, but thorough argument for this hope, so that women can know that it is not just wishful thinking, but something we can truly claim as a biblical truth. There is scriptural support for believing that our children are, right now, at this very moment, with Jesus. And that is a very, very happy thought. 

Is Miscarriage Divine Punishment? {Interview with Jessalyn Hutto}

I am extremely delighted to welcome Jessalyn Hutto, author of Inheritance of Tears, to the blog this week. Jessalyn was gracious enough to grant me an interview after reading her book, and I hope the answers she shared will be an encouragement and blessing to you. I posed 4 different questions to Jessalyn. Because of the in-depth response and the delicate subject matter of each, I thought it best to spread the interview out over several posts. 

Inheritance of Tears: Trusting the Lord of Life When Death Enters the Womb, is a Gospel-centered, theologically rich resource for women who have undergone miscarriage and those who would like to minister to them. Jessalyn personally experienced two miscarriages, one first trimester, and her daughter Anastasia at 17 weeks. I was so blessed by reading her book, and cannot recommend it highly enough. You can find more of Jessalyn's writing on her blog. 

Rachel: You discuss how miscarriage is never God's punishment of our personal sin, because of our standing in Christ. While I am 100% in agreement here, I couldn't help but think of David and Bathsheba's infant dying as a result of their sin. How do you understand this story within your theological framework? How could we give Gospel hope to a woman who brings it up in concern that her miscarriage was divine punishment?

Jessalyn: My purpose in including the section you are referring to in my book was to combat our natural tendency to see miscarriage as divine punishment. When something so horrifying and so personal occurs in our lives, our minds quickly begin to wonder if we are to blame. We assume that because God allowed us to miscarry, he must be displeased with us in some way or that if we had just been better Christians, he would have blessed us with a healthy pregnancy. But this is completely anti-gospel. Our God is not a cosmic vending machine. Being "good" does not ensure blessing, and struggling with sin does not necessarily equate with greater trials in this life. 

In fact, if we have been forgiven in Christ, then all of God's wrath for us- for every sin we have ever committed and will ever commit- was swallowed up on the cross. There is no wrath left for us because it has all been spent on Jesus! As Christians, we are in Christ, and therefore clothed in his perfect holiness. This is the beauty of the gospel and why we needn't fear that the Lord will punish us each time we fail to live up to his holy standards. Jesus lived up to them for us!

Now, this does not mean that God does not see our sin and that it does not grieve him. As a father, our loving God does discipline us for our good. The Bible says that he would not be a good father if he did not. He desires for us to grow in godliness and to experience more of his love. He does not intend for us to live in unrepentant sin, which only makes us callous to his marvelous affections for us. But it is important to note that he views us as his children, whom he lovingly corrects when they falter, not as servants whom he lashes out at. 

In this way, it is certainly possible for God to use a miscarriage as a wake up call in a woman's life. Indeed, all trials that we face are used by his hand to refine us and draw us into greater godliness. This is exactly how the author of Hebrews explains the discipline of the Lord: as a sign of his love and attentiveness to us! Not as a sign of his anger and judgment. Therefore, I would make a strong distinction between punishment for sin and God's kind discipline. 

In regard to David's sin and the discipline he received, I would say that we must be careful in drawing direct parallels in our own lives or in the lives of others to David's life. David was the king of the nation of Israel- a type of Christ in the Old Testament- and God had very specific and important purposes for his life. Equally as important is the fact that God spoke directly to the prophet Nathan, shedding light on the sin that David had committed and pinpointing the discipline he would receive. We don't have that same access to God's mind. The Lord doesn't tell us why he allows certain things to happen in our lives or in the lives of our friends. Therefore, it is unwise to immediately jump to a direct connection between a sin and a miscarriage (unless of course the particular sin was physically and obviously responsible for the miscarriage- for instance drug abuse). 

I would also add, that even in the example of David's punishment, God had his good (and not his destruction) at heart. It was for the purpose of David's repentance, that God took the child's life. That awful trial, which did bring about an intense sorrow over his sin and a genuine repentance, gave David a deeper understanding of his own depravity and God's incredible grace. It made him a better king and allowed him to minister to believers throughout the ages through the beautiful Psalms he wrote.

All of this to say, if a woman were to come to me, concerned that God was punishing her for a particular sin through her miscarriage, I would first comfort her with the knowledge that God loves her with the same unconditional love that he has for his holy and perfect Son (John 17:26; Romans 8:39). He has not brought this miscarriage into her life to condemn her, but rather, to bring about greater Christ-likeness in her life (Romans 8:1, 28). 

Has he used this miscarriage to reveal sin in her heart that she was previously unaware of or unrepentant for? Then praise God! She should repent of it and seek the Lord's forgiveness, for he is ready and willing to show her grace. But I would be careful to explain that her repentance does not therefore secure a healthy pregnancy the next time she becomes pregnant. Her repentance is a sign of the gracious work of the Spirit in her heart, not a contract requiring God's subsequent blessing. 

Our Father's love and blessings are not dependent upon his children's obedience (they are only dependent upon the finished work of Christ)! She is God's child now, whom he loves with an unwavering and unselfish love. Therefore, she should not view her current miscarriage as a sign of his displeasure, but instead, she should look for the good he is desiring to do through it: whether that be to reveal unrepentant sin, to draw her into a greater dependence upon him, to build endurance and steadfastness of faith, or to bring about one of the many other spiritual blessings he has promised to his children. He truly works all things for our good- even our miscarriages. 

For a more in depth look at this issue, be sure to read Jessalyn's book. See what she has to say about her grieving processes here, and how Christ ministers to women who have miscarried here. And stay tuned for Thursday for the last segment of this interview, and a giveaway! {affiliate links included in this post}

How Jesus Ministers to Women Who've Miscarried {Interview with Jessalyn Hutto}

I am extremely delighted to welcome Jessalyn Hutto, author of Inheritance of Tears, to the blog this week and next. Jessalyn was gracious enough to grant me an interview after reading her book, and I hope the answers she shared will be an encouragement and blessing to you. I posed 4 different questions to Jessalyn. Because of the in-depth response and the delicate subject matter of each, I thought it best to spread the interview out over several posts. 

Inheritance of Tears: Trusting the Lord of Life When Death Enters the Womb, is a Gospel-centered, theologically rich resource for women who have undergone miscarriage and those who would like to minister to them. Jessalyn personally experienced two miscarriages, one first trimester, and her daughter Anastasia at 17 weeks. I was so blessed by reading her book, and cannot recommend it highly enough. You can find more of Jessalyn's writing on her blog. 

Rachel: I loved the part of your book in which you identified specific ways that Jesus can relate and minister to women suffering miscarriage. When and how did this first occur to you?

Jessalyn: The Lord actually encouraged me with this concept when I became pregnant after my second miscarriage. Having at that point experienced two miscarriages and two successful pregnancies, I was strikingly aware of the frailty of each of my babies' lives. I knew I could not assume that each new pregnancy would end in a happy birth nine months later. 

This reality threatened to taint the joy of my new pregnancy. Every happy emotion I experienced was laced with the fear of losing the new life within me. As these emotions warred within me each and every day, all I could do was beg the Lord for the ability to trust his wise plan for my child and me, whether that meant another miscarriage or another healthy pregnancy. I came to him over and over again, begging him for a healthy child, but at the same time asking him to give me the faith I needed if he were to call me to walk through another painful loss. 

I was struck by how similar this experience was to our Lord Jesus' night in the garden of Gethsemane. I felt as though he could understand my fear of miscarrying, because he too had looked with dread at the painful future that was before him- his impending crucifixion. He too begged the Lord to remove the cup of suffering from him, all the while perfectly submitting to his Father's will. The next day, he victoriously endured the agonies of the cross on our behalf, becoming our perfect substitute, and freeing us from the power and penalty of sin.

He submitted to his Father, even under the most terrifying of circumstances.

As I meditated upon his ability to sympathize with me in my weakness, I was reminded that he could not only understand my fear, but that his perfect submission to the Father had been imputed to me through his substitutionary work on the cross. Therefore, even when I failed and gave in to fear, I was completely forgiven and loved by the Father. This was a freeing thought because it meant that I could be honest with him about my struggle!

Hebrews 4:15-16 says, "we do not have a high priest who is unable to sympathize with our weaknesses, but one who in every respect has been tempted as we are, yet without sin. Let us then with confidence draw near to the throne of grace, that we may receive mercy and find grace to help in time of need." Jesus' incarnation- his becoming a man- allowed him to identify with us in so many ways. In my book I only touched on the three that I felt most specifically applied to mothers who miscarry, but there are so many more!

The beauty of this truth cannot be overstated for those who suffer loss. Because Jesus can identify with and understand our struggles, we are able to draw near to him in our darkest moments, experiencing a fellowship with God that would have been impossible otherwise. In this way, suffering becomes a wondrous blessing in our lives because it gives us a unique nearness to our loving and compassionate Savior.

For more complete information on how Christ identifies with women who miscarry, be sure to check out Jessalyn's book. Also be sure to read the first post in this series on the grieving process of miscarriage for more Christ-centered encouragement. *Affiliate links included in this post.*

Linking with The Life of This Mother. 

The Grieving Process of Miscarriage {Interview with Jessalyn Hutto}

I am extremely delighted to welcome Jessalyn Hutto, author of Inheritance of Tears, to the blog this week and next. Jessalyn was gracious enough to grant me an interview after reading her book, and I hope the answers she shared will be an encouragement and blessing to you. I posed 4 different questions to Jessalyn. Because of the in-depth response and the delicate subject matter of each, I thought it best to spread the interview out over several posts. 

Inheritance of Tears: Trusting the Lord of Life When Death Enters the Womb, is a Gospel-centered, theologically rich resource for women who have undergone miscarriage and those who would like to minister to them. Jessalyn personally experienced two miscarriages, one first trimester, and her daughter Anastasia at 17 weeks. I was so blessed by reading her book, and cannot recommend it highly enough. You can find more of Jessalyn's writing on her blog. 

Rachel: What has your personal grieving process after your miscarriages looked like? I know that every woman is different, and thought this might be encouraging to moms who have recently lost little ones and are wondering if the pain ever abates. While my miscarriage of six years ago seems distant, the more recent one still stings. Do you feel completely healed at this point, or does the memory of your losses still profoundly affect you at times?

Jessalyn: The circumstances surrounding each of our miscarriages are different, just as each of our personalities are unique. Therefore, we must be careful to remember that our loving God deals specifically with each of us- there is no "one-size fits all" grieving process that the Lord desires to take us through. Rather, in each of our lives, he is accomplishing specific things, uniquely fitting our trials to our needs.

For this reason, we should be slow to compare our grieving process to others'- wondering why it is that we can't just "get over it" like they did, or on the other hand, judging others who seem as though they are not as affected by their loss as we might be.

Many factors affect a woman's grieving process: how far along she was when she miscarried, how many losses she has experienced, how desirous she was for a child, how long it takes her to become pregnant again, etc... All of these circumstances are in God's hands, and he uses them masterfully to reveal his love, goodness, and kindness to each of his daughters in unique ways.

My miscarriages were each very different. The first miscarriage was my very first pregnancy and occurred during the first trimester. I was taken by surprise by both the pregnancy in the first place and then again by the miscarriage. My grief was intense, but it was rather quickly eclipsed by the joy of another pregnancy a few months later.

This second pregnancy was a great blessing in that it reduced my suffering, but it also came with its own difficulties. I struggled with feelings of guilt because I didn't want to forget my first child. I felt bad for looking forward to meeting this new baby,  when I had so recently lost another. However, God helped me to sort through these emotions, and when I held my firstborn son in my arms, I was able to feel unhindered joy and thankfulness for the gift I'd been given.

My second miscarriage was more difficult. It occurred in the second trimester and after discovering that our daughter was lifeless within my womb, we had to make the heartbreaking decision to induce labor in a hospital. The pain of losing our daughter- at that time our only daughter- was intense. Though I had experienced a miscarriage before, I was not prepared for the possibility of losing a baby so far along. Again, God was gracious to me and provided a peace that I could have never conjured on my own. Amazingly I even found the experience of delivering our daughter- of seeing and holding and burying her- to be a great aid in the healing process.

I didn't immediately seek to be pregnant again after that miscarriage. I felt that for me, such a devastating loss necessitated an extended time of mourning and reflection. I needed to come to terms with what had happened, and simply walk with God through the pain. As time went by my sorrow naturally lessened and I began to desire to be pregnant once again.

A new pregnancy brought new joy, but it was certainly tinged with the memories of what we had lost. I would often find myself overcome with sorrow when I'd see a little girl with her mother at a coffee shop or as I walked through the little girl's department at Target, seeing all of the sweet dresses I would never get to buy for my own daughter. Honestly, I would say that the pain of her death stuck with me in some small way until the wondrous moment we found out I was carrying another little girl a couple years later.

If there is one thing I'd like to encourage women who are in the midst of suffering with, it would be to not feel rushed through the mourning process. When you miscarry, you lose something extremely precious, and it is right to have a deep sense of that loss. You should not be surprised if you continue to feel deprived of the joy you had while pregnant for a great deal of time- especially if you do not become pregnant again quickly.

Rather than trying to escape the grief, I would encourage you to use this intense experience of sorrow to draw nearer to the Lord. Cling to him as the one and only thing in your life that is sure, and from which you can draw peace and happiness in the midst of profound pain.

Time will certainly lift the weight of sorrow that seems so crushing in the present, but clinging to him in the midst of it will produce a surprising harvest of spiritual wisdom and deep-rooted joy. This is perhaps the greatest lesson I have learned from my miscarriages.

Stay tuned for Part Two, in which Jessalyn covers how Christ ministers and relates to women who have miscarried. To take a more in depth look at miscarriage, the Scriptures, and hope for hurting women, be sure to pick up a copy of Jessalyn's book {affiliate link}. 

Resources for Those Grieving After Miscarriage

There are affiliate links in this post. That means that if you click through and make a purchase, I receive a small commission at no extra charge to you. I only recommend products that I have personally used/read/and enjoyed. Thanks for your support of The Purposeful Wife! 

Here I find myself again, writing about a topic that I don't love {it hurts} because necessity compels me {I've hurt, I still hurt, and I want to encourage others who are hurting}.

It's been seven months since we lost our last baby. The grief comes and goes in waves, but I can say that both my husband and I still hurt over it. Quite a lot at times.

Recently the Lord has been so gracious to me. He's showed me through various people and circumstances that 1) I've been growing hardened and bitter in my attempts at self-preservation, 2) people have not forgotten me in my trial, and 3) I am more loved than I could imagine by Him and His people. I've been embracing vulnerability as a result- opening up about our heartache, repenting of my hardness of heart, and trying to love others when I'd rather just be a loner. It's been good, but also hard.

Being vulnerable and loving others is painful. This is why it is so easy to grow hard and cynical in grief. If you feel angry or resentful, you can steel your emotions a bit more effectively. But the path to true healing and grace is the path of brokenness. Ouch. It's not always what I want to hear.

A few weeks ago a good friend, one who knows I am hurting and has loved me so actively and graciously through this trial, handed me Nancy Guthrie's book Holding Onto Hope. It has been a healing balm to my soul. Nancy lost two babies to a rare chromosomal disorder, at 7 and 6 months respectively. She weaves her story in and out of a study of Job in his trials. It is Biblically rich, and so poignant in its handling of grief.

I found myself nodding my head enthusiastically at every other line. Tearing up, laughing, and ugly crying alternately. This book is appropriate for anyone in any type of grief- loss of a loved one, financial ruin, illness, etc. I only wish I had found it sooner. I'm on my second read through, this time with my husband. It is good folks.

The second book I want to share with you is Jessalyn Hutto's new release, Inheritance of Tears: Trusting the Lord of Life When Death Enters the Womb. I haven't read it yet, as I am waiting for my review copy in the mail. Look forward to a full review in the the weeks ahead. Jessalyn posted this excerpt from the book the other day, and once again I found myself tearing up as I read. She draws from her own experiences {one early miscarriage, and one baby girl at 17 weeks} and points to Christ in a hope-restoring way. There are very few Christian books that specifically address miscarriage {actually, I can't even think of one...can you?}, so the Church desperately needs this resource.

Finally, I recently created a pin board titled "Miscarriage." I hope it will be a place where you can find much encouragement in your time of need. I'll be pinning articles and other resources that have blessed me in my own journey.

I don't know about you, but what has helped me most with healing apart from the sheer grace of God is fellowship with other women who have lost babies. There is something precious in knowing that you are not alone, that others have shared your same thoughts, experiences, and mixed emotions. May it be for your edification!

Blessings friends.

Four Things to Remember When You'd Like to be Pregnant but Aren't

Right now it seems that almost all of my good friends {and a disproportionately large number of acquaintances} are pregnant. I love babies, and I love celebrating the bumps of friends... heck, even the bumps of strangers!

The kicker is that I thought our family would be welcoming number three next month. We won't be. And even though my miscarriage was six months ago, my body doesn't seem to be fully recovered or fertile again. Each month I find out that yet again I am still not expecting. And I'd like to be.

So I am waiting and wondering and trusting the Lord {most days}. While I don't feel quite anxious yet, it is sometimes a temptation. Here are the truths that I keep whispering in my heart as a reminder on the tougher days.

1. Childbearing is not a competition. So many of my friends are having their third and fourth babies... and sometimes it makes me feel behind. But adding to your family is not a race. God has a different plan for every family.

Having a smaller amount of children doesn't make me less of a mother. It's been said that comparison is the thief of joy, and I believe it. So I give myself a mental slap on the wrist and shout, "No comparing!"

2. God knows what I need. Maybe the Lord knows that I am just not ready for another pregnancy or baby. Maybe two is all that I can handle for now... or forever. Whatever I need, He knows it. He's promised that "those who seek the Lord lack no good thing" {Psalm 34:10}. If it was good for me to be pregnant right now, I would be. He knows what I need.

3. His timing is perfect. If I really believe that God is the Sovereign Lord of the Universe, who does all things well and ordains everything exactly how He pleases, than I can rest in the fact that He will grow our family {if that is indeed His choice} in His timing. He is all-wise, and all-powerful, and all-good. I can really and truly trust His perfect timing. This brings so much peace.

4. Every blessing has its opportunity costs. This is a more trivial thought to be sure, because I would gladly deal with the exhaustion and illness and complications that can come with another pregnancy. Obviously the blessing gained is worth it.

Nevertheless, when the pregnancy test comes back negative I can choose to rejoice in better sleep, no nausea, and no high risk restrictions. It means that I have another month to exercise a bit more, get more zzz's, and get my house into better shape while I still have the energy. All little blessings to enjoy and cherish, because they won't be mine forever.

Fertility is such a tricky thing. Our culture would have us think that we are entirely in control of it... but the reality is that babies don't come on demand, and the creation of eternal souls really has so little to do with us. So we pray, and keep open hands, and anchor our souls in the Lord's goodness to His people in all things. Amen.

"I will bless the LORD at all times; his praise shall continually be in my mouth." Psalm 34:1

Just a little note: So many of your comments have been humbling to me. While this was the longest chunk of my married life that we were trying and waiting to get pregnant, I cannot claim to have struggled with long term infertility, and I do already have two children. I feel inadequate to do much more than pray for those of your hurting who have shared here. Can I just point you over to my friend Natasha's blog? Her long term struggle with infertility and faithful clinging to Christ humble and speak truth to me more than I can say. Hope you can find further encouragement there. She has far more to offer on this sensitive topic. Thanks. 

Thoughts After Miscarriage

There is something terribly ugly about it. When what is meant to hold the vibrancy of life becomes instead a silent tomb, you walk around feeling like a grave.

Part of you can't wait for it to be all over. Waiting for the pain and the flood can be unbearable. You feel like you are walking on edge. Will it be today, or tomorrow? Will it hurt? Can I just shut this chapter of my life and go on?

The other part of you desperately wants to hold on and keep it, because once baby leaves, that is it. No more tangible evidence that they ever existed. Your time to hold them has ended.

Most people have forgotten now. All signs of pregnancy vanished months ago. They brought the meals, sent the cards, gave their hugs and sorries. We appreciated it so much, felt so very loved. But what was insignificant to everyone else means the turning upside down of the life my husband and I thought we'd be living.

Someone, a real little person, has died. Because other people didn't see their face or hold their hand, they don't realize the gravity of the situation. But we saw the thumping heart, the little head and limbs. Twice. We have the pictures to prove it. This little person had a name and a place in our family. We awaited them with eager anticipation, laid out lovingly constructed plans and dreams for them.

Every month I bleed again and remember. The box of maternity clothes is knocked over in my closet, and I remember. I try not to, quickly stuffing the clothes back in. I look at the calendar and see that February is coming. I remember what I thought was coming with it.

I see the heavily pregnant woman at the grocery store, and I tell her how beautiful she is because I know its hard to remember when you feel as big as a house. I try not to cry as I tell her. I try to stuff down the grief that wells up as I stroll through the store, stand in the check out line, and walk to my car. I feel so very empty.

If you asked me about it, I might tell you the horror story of the night it all ended. How I bled so much that I fainted, hit my head, and took an ambulance ride. I would try to focus on the physical trauma, steering away from the emotional. I probably wouldn't tell you about what happened at the hospital. It's just hard to talk about.

I don't like to tell people, but somehow it is easier when I'm hiding behind a screen. I don't write because I enjoy exposing the hidden places of my soul. I write because in my mind's eye I see other hurting souls hiding behind screens, and I want them to know that they are not alone. I feel it too. You are not forgotten in your pain.

In all this, there is cross comfort. The One who made me, who knit my baby together in my womb for a mere eight weeks, He knows. Even this was in His control, a part of His divine and sovereign will for the world. He has promised good and God-glory, even in this. If I didn't believe that He planned it, controlled it, and is working through it, the grief would be so much uglier.

This doesn't mean that I understand. It doesn't mean that I don't hurt deeply. But it is soothing balm to a chaffing soul to know that He knows, and He loves me. In and through this.

So I now I wait. I wait for the healing that I know will come, eventually.

And while many friends will be welcoming new babies in February, we will not be meeting ours.

Overcoming Fear in Pregnancy {Introduction}

My first pregnancy ended in miscarriage.

My second pregnancy abruptly ended at 27 weeks, with an extremely premature birth and a two month hospital stay for our daughter.

I've heard of full term babies dying due to undiscovered infections, cords wrapped around the neck, and gestational diabetes going undetected.

If anything is certain in life, it's that life is uncertain. Knowing the uncertainties- knowing that hearing a heart beat, seeing a healthy ultrasound, or making it to 40 weeks; that these things don't guarantee a healthy babe in arms- can be nightmarish to an expectant mother's peace of mind.

I am 24 weeks now with my third baby. 24 weeks with S was the week that my mucus plug fell out, I was hospitalized, the contractions kept coming, and we came very close to losing our little girl. To say that my nerves have "struggled" this week would be an understatement.

I could chose to rest on probabilities: an infection in my placenta is probably what caused my preterm labor with S, and the likelihood of such an infection occurring again is very rare.

I could chose to rest on medicine: I've been receiving progesterone shots for weeks that are supposed to help prevent preterm labor.

I could chose to stick my head in the sand: to ignore fears, shove them away, entertain myself to distraction and pretend that nothing hard or bad ever happens.

However, none of these options are good enough. Probabilities are meaningless when all of a sudden you become the one in a million. Medicine, while useful in its proper place, can't offer me any solid guarantees. Ignoring reality is also futile- unpleasant things happen in a sin cursed world, and to close my eyes to this will only set me up for future heart break.

Trading fears for faith is a battle. This week its been a moment-to-moment, hour-by-hour kind of warfare for my mind. While I don't have all the answers, and while I am still struggling to apply known truths to my heart, the Lord has mercifully reassured me in the goodness of His grace... no matter what the outcome of this pregnancy. Over the next few weeks I'd like to share the truths that have encouraged my soul in clinging to Christ.

Join me as I seek to overcome fear in pregnancy?

Other Posts in this Series:
A Call To Open Hands 
Knowing His Character
When Fears Are Realized

Linked with: Growing Home, Encourage One Another, and Raising Homemakers. 

For Women Whose Motherhood Journey has Been Hard

Photo Credit

As follow-up to last week's post, I just wanted to tie up a few loose ends that have been rolling around in my head.

I challenged mom's who've had it easy to stop complaining. To remember that conception, pregnancy and delivery isn't uncomplicated for everyone, and to be sensitive to women around them who might be hurting.

But there is something important for the hurting woman to remember.

If I hadn't lost my first child to miscarriage, I too would have assumed that every mom experiences the joy of hearing a beating heart in the first trimester.

Even though I did lose my first baby to miscarriage, I still complained about my exhaustion and nausea in the first trimester with my second. Because even though I didn't take my child's life for granted, feeling so yucky was very trying in those moments.

If I hadn't gone into preterm labor with S, I would have complained at 40 weeks about my heartburn, and sleepless nights, and constant discomfort.

If I hadn't known the agony of two months in the NICU, I would have continued to assume that babies are always healthy and colic is the worst ever thing that could happen to a new mom.

If I hadn't had an emergency C-section, I would have continued to look down my nose at the women who didn't do it the "natural" (and thus, obviously better) way. Oh, my horrid pride. I would have whined about my 40 hours of labor, the pain of recovery, and the ensuing sleepless nights.

Even when you are hurting, it is important to remember that we are all sinners. As sinners, complaining and pride come easily to us.

If you're road had not been so painful and hard, you (in all likelihood) would have complained about the same things that grate on you coming from a mom whose road was easier.

The next time you hear her unburdening her "load" of a relatively normal pregnancy and birth, stop gritting your teeth, and take a deep breath.

Remember that if you were in her shoes, you might be saying the same insensitive things to some hurting woman, unaware of the pain you were causing.

Remember to be merciful. Ask the Lord for His grace, and that you might be able to show it to others.

What she is experiencing is difficult, and in moments of personal difficulty, we tend to forget that others have difficulties of their own.

I guess my purpose in writing these posts has been to encourage a bit more love and understanding on both sides. This is my call to mutual sympathy and sensitivity. To rejoice with those who rejoice, and to weep with those who weep.

The Road to Motherhood (Isn't Always Easy)

Photo Credit

We take so much for granted in this life.

"I am in control of my fertility."

"I will be having     children."

"I plan on having a natural birth... or an epidural... or whatever other birth plan I've devised."

"Of course I'll have a healthy pregnancy- my mother was healthy as a horse and had 5 babies, no problem!"

We forget about the Curse. The pain involved in childbirth. The reality that life is a vapor, often quenched too soon. That God alone is the Giver of Life, who opens and closes wombs without consulting any of us.

Sometimes the trouble is in the beginning. You start to try for a baby, but it never comes. Months turn into years, years into a decade... no pregnancy. You watch your friends who are fruitful and multiplying, attend their showers, babysit for their precious broods.... all the while wondering if your turn will ever come.

Hundreds of parents wait for a year, even two, for the completion of their adoption process and the arrival of their long anticipated child. Vast amounts of money spent, hours of anxiety and hope and excitement as they are forced to simply wait.

Then there are the fertile Myrtles, who can't seem to stop getting pregnant. But even overcoming this first obstacle on the road to motherhood is no guarantee (I speak as a woman who's gotten pregnant "on accident" twice).

Early (and late) miscarriages rob the womb of life. One in every three pregnancies ends this way. The anticipated due date arrives, and you find yourself crying in the bathroom when everyone else has forgotten your loss. You wonder what they would have looked like, what today would have been like if things had gone differently...

Sometimes the second trimester is achieved, and you think you are safe- you've heard the heart beat, know the gender, you're decorating a nursery as your belly starts to swell. Then pre-term labor (the rising Western epidemic) drops like a bomb shell, interrupting all your well laid plans.

You might come home empty armed after all. Or home with a baby, but after months in a hospital- with a little one who will bear the scars of prematurity for the rest of their life.

Even more tragic is the baby lost full-term, due to a cord cutting off air or labor complications. Oh, how the heart of the healing mother must ache as she lays in the mom-and-baby ward with no baby, hearing the cries of infants down the hall...

Or the child lost at six months. Or one year. Or five, or ten, or twenty... Death is the sinister reality of a world gone wrong.

Our hope is in Christ and in the goodness of God. The future world to come, in which He wipes every tear away from our eyes.

And yet the road right now is hard.

If your road to motherhood was easy, don't feel guilty. Thank God! Rejoice in His kindness, and delight in your precious babies.

Just please don't forget that it doesn't work that way for all of us. We don't resent you (though at times, we struggle with envy), but it is painful to listen to complaints of the woes of morning sickness, or the trials of your third trimester, or the agonies of your uncomplicated delivery. The annoyance you feel towards your house-full of children, the piles of diapers, your lack of "me" time.

May God give us grace to complain a little less, and to rejoice in Him a whole lot more. To never forget that life is always a miracle, and always precious. To be sensitive to the women around us who long for what we just take for granted.

May we seek to ease and encourage and love the women whose road is harder then ours. To offer compassion, to show sensitivity, to weep with those who weep.

Photo Credit

 Linked with: Raising Homemakers, A Wise Woman Builds Her Home, and Women Living Well.

A Monumental Day

Pre-Wedding Festivities

On June 25th four years ago, I was only three days away from getting married. My parents were in town, and we were hustling and bustling with wedding stress and joy. 

On June 25th three years ago, our first baby was due. We had found out the following December that they wouldn't be coming after all. It was a day of mourning and remembering our first major loss as a couple.

On June 25th two years ago, I cried in the car for the baby I never got to meet, who would have been almost one. My Niall gently reminded me that June is also a month of joy, and that I didn't need to cry every year on June 25th out of some bizarre mother guilt. I wondered if and when we would ever be parents.

Goofy Anniversary Fun

On June 25th one year ago, it was a typical Saturday morning. I exercised and cleaned and grocery shopped, looking forward to celebrating our anniversary later that evening with Niall. Instead I ended up checking into our hospital's labor and delivery ward when my mucus plug fell out at only 24 weeks.

We almost delivered S that night, we stared the possibility of losing baby #2 right in the face. The Lord chose life over death this time, and we are thankful, oh so very thankful, for the precious gift of S.

Hanging out on Bed Rest

Today I am thankful and rejoicing (despite the rain and thunderstorms) as I remember the June 25th's of years gone by.

I am thankful for (almost!) four years of joyful marriage, and love that gets sweeter and deeper as time unfolds.

I am thankful for the hard and painful times He has brought us through as a couple. I'm thankful that they didn't break us, but only drew us closer to each other and Him.

I am thankful that I am not in the hospital, suffocated by dry air, riddled with needle holes and hooked up to multitudes of monitors and I.V. drips. That I am free to enjoy summer this year- with walks in the sunshine, glasses of homemade iced tea, and flip flop tan lines on my feet.

I'm thankful that S is here to enjoy it with me- healthy, happy, a bundle of blessing and joy. Her NICU days a distant and blurry memory.

At Church (One of S's First Sundays!) with Niall's Folks

June 25th hasn't been an easy day in years past. But today it is sweet, and I am counting a multitude of blessings bestowed on us by the Giver of all good things.

My Miscarriage Taught Me About the Sanctity of Life

*Written in honor of Sanctity of Life Sunday, which was this past Lord's Day*

I have always been pro-life. Always, always, always. As a child I remember being deeply grieved over the reality of abortion. I love babies, and I always have.

Fast forward to my early twenties, and I am a happy newlywed. A happy newlywed that definitely did not want to be pregnant yet. Definitely wanted babies down the road, but waiting at least two years was what I really wanted.

Then I was a little late. And I took a test. And it was positive. My husband was great; totally happy and excited, trying to figure out how we could make ends meet without me working. Becoming a father was a life-long dream of his, and even though it wasn't coming on our "ideal" timetable, he was stoked.

I was not. Was this really going to happen? I didn't feel like I had an amazing tiny person inside of me. I just felt really nauseous. And exhausted. And miserable. I figured that once I saw the baby on an ultrasound, or once my belly started to expand with life, I would fall in love with my baby. But I just wasn't feeling it yet.

At eleven weeks we finally had our first appointment with the OB. She couldn't find the heart beat, but assured me at this stage that was no big deal. Often times such a tiny little heart is difficult to find. She suggested an early ultrasound, and miracle of miracles, they had just had a cancellation, so we went straight across the hall for it.

The ultrasound tech jellied me up, and slid her magic wand over my belly. I was starting to feel a little excited and nervous. She found the little bean, but no heart beat. "This baby looks like it's about six weeks. Let's just do an internal to check if we got your dates wrong."

My dates weren't that wrong, and I knew it. She knew it. Niall knew it. Everyone in the room knew that our baby was dead, but silence hung in the air. I went to undress for the internal ultrasound, my mind numb. People who didn't want their baby weren't supposed to miscarry. They were supposed to have their baby, love their baby, and joke and smile about their precious "accident" for the rest of their lives. This couldn't be happening.

Several minutes into the internal, the sweet technician turned around to me, and with deep compassion said, "I'm so sorry." She didn't have to say why. We both knew. We sobbed as I got dressed, as we both called off work for the rest of the day. We sobbed all the way home. I cried for the baby I hadn't wanted, who had spent its only six weeks of life unloved by the woman who should have cherished it the most.

Even though I have always been pro-life, having a miscarriage taught me the value of human life in a far more personal way. I learned that having a baby really has so little to do with me, my life, my timetable. Although God gives us babies to nurture and raise, someday they will grow up and leave, and will live an entirely separate life of their own as an individual. Life is precious, and it ought to be protected by the women who carry it in its initial most fragile phase.

"Accident" or no, such a tiny, helpless babe ought to be loved. Because all babies are miracles bestowed on us by the Author of life. My miscarriage taught me that. And I will never waste the first six weeks of a pregnancy in misery and despair over the miracle of life ever again.

"For you formed my inward parts, you knitted me together in my mother's womb. I will praise you, for I am fearfully and wonderfully made. Wonderful are your works, and that my soul knows well. My frame was not hidden from you when I was being made in secret, intricately woven in the depths of the earth. Your eyes saw my unformed substance, in your book were written every one of them the days that were formed for me, when as yet there were none of them." 

"Behold, children are a heritage from the Lord, the fruit of the womb a reward."


Linked with: Titus 2sday, Teach me Tuesday, Graitituesday, and The Better Mom