There I sat on the cold, porcelain toilet—blood pouring, stomach contracting. I didn’t need a clinician to give me the news; my baby was gone. I was no longer pregnant. I was not going to decorate a nursery. I was not going to deliver my baby in November.
It’s hard when our world just stops. Nothing makes sense. Fog descends. We feel robbed, broken, and betrayed by our own bodies.
You might have felt the blood. You might have seen the ultrasound image. You might have heard the devastating phrase, “There is no heartbeat.” The nurse might have called you and said that your HCG levels were dropping. You might have doubled over in pain from your ectopic pregnancy. Your water might have broken too early. Your baby might have emerged through a caesarean. You might have felt the pains of labor and delivered your perfectly formed baby whose breath was silent.
Our lives changed—forever. We all have different reactions, but most of us report shock and confusion.
I’m so sorry you are sitting in this nightmare where anger, guilt, sadness, loneliness, yearning, anxiety, and depression swirl. Not to mention you’ve faced immense physical pain—something for which we are totally unprepared.
What are we to do with all this hurt? Are we to push it aside or feel all the feels?
Grief research suggests we must embrace these feelings. There is no way around grief. We must plod right through it. You are sad. You want to express yourself. You yearn for your child, and you yearn to find a meaningful reason for such loss.
Sweet one, we must make daily decisions to work through the grief. This doesn’t mean there is a cure to grief, but it can give us a sense of order to our emotions and help us as we get to a place where sadness and peace coexist. My mother delivered her first child at seven months. He was born sleeping. She says, “The heart-stabbing pain and guilt does go away. Eventually it will be replaced with loving acceptance and knowledge that you will see each other again in heaven.”
Right now you are still in that raw stage of grief. Faith means trusting plans we don’t desire. Even though we are afraid, we must trust God to guide us through this valley as we rest our minds on the promise of heaven.