On Miscarriage

In May, Chris and I got some unexpected news...that we were going to become parents for the second time. We moved quickly from shock to excitement that January would bring new life to our family.

Then, on July 10th, just one day before we hit the 12 week mark, we heard the word that every expectant parent fears most - Miscarriage.  In our case, a missed miscarriage.  We were told that our little one stopped growing at 8 weeks gestation, which means that while my body had shut down the pregnancy 4 weeks ago, it hadn't followed up with miscarrying on its own.  Instead, the morning sickness, the slowly growing belly, etc., all continued, giving us the impression that everything was alright.  That this pregnancy was a healthy one.  That we would be safe telling the congregation on the 13th of July that Eleanor was going to be a big sister.  Instead, our dreams for this child were dashed in the moment that *that* look flashed across the face of my OB.  Medically, a second ultrasound was required to confirm what we feared, but I knew when that first image popped up on the ultrasound screen that January 2015 would not be our month. Even though I knew in my heart, I prayed and pleaded for a miracle. I cried out that God would intervene and that the next morning there would be a small, but strong little one on that ultrasound screen.  That prayer wasn't answered.

So, on July 13th, I stood before a congregation, only a few of whom had heard any of news regarding our pregnancy and miscarriage, and preached that God can take bad situations in our lives and make good come out of them (see blog post entitled Red Stuff).  God still is at work even when it seems that we have hit a road block.  This is what I believe.  That in the midst of miscarriages and cancer (at least two members of the congregation I serve are actively in the midst of this fight) and the messes that we ourselves have created (oh and there are plenty...have you read the news lately? Kyrie eleison), God is still at work and can take these awful situations and make good out of them. Most of the time, this mean that God calls us to be God's presence in the world. To stand up and speak, or act, when injustice and violence plague our cities, our nations, our world.  To celebrate and mourn with each other in the best and worst moments of our lives. To reach out to the lonely, to lift up the poor, to welcome the stranger...you know, the whole love God - love neighbor thing. We can't just stand around because then we are just getting in God's way.

In the midst of this painful and sad situation, we have been surrounded by love.  A love whose origins come from God.  In cards and hugs and loaves of banana bread and words of comfort and shared tears.  As surrounded as we are, I know that there are many women and their partners, who suffer through miscarriages silently, as if the pregnancy never happened.  I mourn for these women who have been told "we don't talk about miscarriages."  I want these women to know that they are not alone.  That they have a support network.  That they don't have to stay silent.  That the children that they lost matter.

There are plenty of articles that have been written about what to say and what not to say to someone who has suffered a pregnancy loss.  This is not one of them.  I do, though, feel the need to comment on one of "don'ts" as a member of the clergy.

"It is all a part of God's plan.  You know that better than anyone else, Pastor"
I may have earned a Masters of Divinity.  I may be an ordained leader in the church.
             I have no better idea about God's plan than anyone else. 
Scientifically speaking, I know that there may be an explanation for why our baby died. However, I cannot and will not say that this was God's plan.  I do not believe that the God whom I have come to know and to love in my faith journey is a God who wakes up in the morning, checks the list of new pregnancies and marks off which ones will result in a live birth and which ones will not - which pregnancies will fulfill dreams and which ones will dash hopes and dreams altogether.
We learn in scripture that death is a result of the power of sin in the world and the powers of sin and death are the very things that God sent his Son into the world to destroy. We also learn in scripture that God's desire is for his creation, a very good creation, to flourish and have abundant life. Finally, we are told in Revelation that God's final plan is to make his home on earth among us on a day in which death and pain and suffering and mourning will be no more (Revelation 21).  I have no idea why our baby died or why God didn't step in. What I can say that I know, though, is that in death our child is resting in God's arms and that God is with us as we mourn the loss of a child that we will never meet in this life.

In the mean time we will mourn and grieve.  We will continue to give thanks for our daughter - the light of our lives - as she continues to grow and amaze us.  We will hope to, one day, add another child to our family.  We will never forget our Snowpea (I have a thing for cute nicknames so I don't have to call baby "it") and we will look forward to the day when we will be reunited with our 2nd child in God's presence.  We do this knowing that we are not alone, which brings with it a level of gratefulness that cannot be expressed.