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How Miscarriage Led to My Crisis of Faith
Image: Claudia Guariglia / Stocksy

Most miscarriages have little to no symptoms, but mine was full of them. Early in pregnancy, things felt off, and I became easily winded and dizzy. A few days after a worried call to my nurse, the bleeding came. I was home, by myself, and in excruciating pain.

When we became pregnant for the first time, we assumed that a baby would come nine months later. Miscarriage never crossed our minds. So many of my friends were having babies, and it all looked so easy. It was a lonely loss.

People said all types of things to encourage me: You’ll get pregnant again.You’ll get to hold your baby in heaven. At least it was early on in the pregnancy. We had announced our pregnancy immediately, so I also had people ask about the baby months after the miscarriage. It felt like a never-ending reminder of our loss.

And then it happened again.

A few months later, thinking the chances of a second miscarriage were slim, we began trying for another. We were thrilled when I became pregnant again, seeing this baby as an answer to our prayers. During this pregnancy, I’d feel something and wonder about a potential miscarriage, but mostly I was just happy to be pregnant again. Then, we had a routine ultrasound, but there was no heartbeat. The miscarriage came with complications. My body didn’t respond well to the medicine, which left me with a chronic stomach condition.

After my second miscarriage, fear and confusion took reign in my mind and heart. How could I make sense of a sovereign and good God in the midst of this? Why could my friend who didn’t want children have them so easily but I couldn’t? I was bitter and finished. I asked my husband if we could take a break from any attempt at getting pregnant so that my heart, mind, and body could heal.

I read Spiritual Depression by D. Martyn Lloyd Jones. I reread Future Grace by John Piper. I ran to my Bible in search for answers and peace. What the Lord revealed to me was that my fear and despondency wasn’t an anomaly. Jesus was denied and abandoned by his friends. He pleaded in the garden for the Lord to take the cup away and then proceeded down the awful lonely road towards the cross alone. And how could we forget the cry of our Savior as he died on the cross: “‘Eli, Eli, lema sabachthani?’ that is, ‘My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?’” (Matt. 27:46).

God provided comfort through the suffering of his Son. I wasn’t alone in my pain. He wasn’t leaving me to my own. He began to reveal to me that he understood and he loved me dearly. I didn’t have anywhere else to go but to him, and he answered my cry in the wilderness. It was comforting for me to realize that it was okay to be in a wilderness. Jesus didn’t go to the cross cheering and clapping his hands. He was sorrowful—sorrowful for this world and for the pain and separation from his Father he knew he’d have to endure. It was okay to weep. Through my tears I had great hope because I knew that I wasn’t praying to a dead Savior. He rose and was indeed interceding on my behalf.

Once my husband and I resumed trying, I was terrified to find out I was pregnant again. Every strange feeling in my abdomen set off a series of imaginary scenarios, each ending with me in the hospital then coming home without a child. We waited a little longer to tell friends, but we soon wanted everyone we knew to pray for us. We knew we couldn’t handle the pain and suffering of another miscarriage alone. Along with learning that the Lord endured great suffering, I realized that many other women had experienced miscarriages but never spoken of them. They began to comfort me with the comfort they had received from the Lord.

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How Miscarriage Led to My Crisis of Faith
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