Carrying Hope Through Grief & Loss
Grief can look like a trip to the mountains embracing nature and solace. Grief can look like tears spilling down your neck onto the bathroom floor. Grief can look like unfollowing accounts that make you remember. Grief can look like a smile on your face, body present, mind absent. Grief can be posting photos and allowing others to see and support.
The more loss that I come to know through my own experience and through others, the more I understand that there is no right way to grieve whether walking publicly with others or privately alone. Grief looks different for different people and only you know what you truly feel and need.
To our society’s detriment, there is still a stigma around loss of a pregnancy. There are so many intricate details surrounding human reproduction and what can make it successful. From the chemicals and toxins that poison us daily, to hormone levels and birth control, to genetics between us and our partner, to our cellular structure, to medication, to stress, it’s unending when you dive into it all. More women are deep into this journey than you will ever know. When you see exciting “birth announcements” or that black and white ultrasound scan, you cannot assume that this was an accidental pregnancy or it was easy to get to that point. 25% of women experience miscarriage; 1 in 4 pregnancies are lost.
Although this is my second pregnancy that I am carrying past my second trimester, it is not my second pregnancy. I wish it were and that everything was simple. I’ve spent more times than I wished in the hospital prepping for a procedure, my hope crushed and my body exhausted. What they don’t tell you when you’re losing a pregnancy is the pregnancy hormone levels are high for weeks, you have no idea that you’ve already lost until you begin to bleed. The whole time you believe this could be it, this could be the one, you still think that you’re forming a life. The realization that you’re not crushes your heart, but again you hope.
I’m sharing a chapter of my story because this stigma of shame surrounding pregnancy loss needs to be erased from our culture. If you aren’t able to carry a pregnancy or if you lose the one you are carrying, that does not dictate your womanhood, motherhood, or wholeness. Miscarriage can be caused by so many different factors. Your body is not broken; your body is beautiful, strong, and worthy of admiration. You are valuable whether or not you have a child. What I can’t say is that it’s easy to suffer loss, but I do find comfort in knowing that God created my body and He understands it better than any doctor or I could. What I clung to during times of loss was this hope that He created my body and I would support my body in the best way I knew how. I would appreciate it and I would treat my health seriously.
Ultimately, His timing is perfect. He knows the desires of our hearts (Psalm 37:4). There isn’t one path to pregnancy, but He’s already seen the future and I found comfort in this. My husband and I have just found out the sex of our child, and as a high risk type of pregnancy, I’ve received several tests and examinations. They’ve ALL come back completely negative for any type of defect. I’ve had doubtful moments in my journey where I wondered if something within me was damaged. Yet, this baby is whole in every way. This baby is here for such a time as this. There is hope beyond the clouds. Tears of gratefulness grace my eyes as I type this. I am a private person and have not shared this journey with many, but this is my testimony to God’s faithfulness to me and my husband. We’ve prayed for years and God has answered our prayer. Our miracle is on the way and he/she will know their story. This child will know what he/she is made of. My hope is that he/she will be a beacon of hope for others for this baby’s story is not an easy one.
Over the past few years, I’ve spent many months coming down from being pregnant and my hormones raging meanwhile continuing to go about my day as a wife, mom, and career woman. Dealing with loss without a soul (except my husband) knowing. This is not a sob story, this is a true story and if you are currently in a moment of grief due to a loss, my heart is with you. I wish I could say it gets easier, but it hurts every time. And I think that’s okay. It’s okay to be true to your experience, to feel it, to find meaning within it, to be strengthened in your relationship with God and those trusted friends that you have close by. Do not allow shame to dictate how you should feel or process your grief.
No matter what happens or what has happened, I want you to know that you are strong and you are worthy of a full life. Your value is not dictated by societal standards. Your label is written by God. While there are commonalities between all of us in our humanity and DNA, there is no one like you. Your story is needed. Your life, if you so choose, can be a light to others. Your journey is for you to walk and don’t allow any pressures to cause you to make decisions other than what God has placed within you.
One of my favorite quotes is “Kill em with Kindness”. I do my absolute best to choose kindness. I try to be conscious of how I treat others, because I know what it’s like to struggle and grieve alone. I know what it feels like to be recovering from a procedure and have a friend who is blissfully unaware of how their words or behaviors are very insensitive to my current state. I know I am not alone in this. There are millions of women who fight this upward battle. I choose to be kind to them because I don’t know their battle. I don’t make jokes about their pregnancy. I don’t make comments like, “Was this an accident or on purpose?” or “Is this a quarantine baby?“ or “Were ya’ll trying to have a baby?”.
As women who are seeking community and support, we must give what we need. We don’t need assumptions to be made about our pregnancies. We need celebration, kindness, a helping hand, or a listening ear. My desire is that we remove judgement and any preconceived ideas that we may have about one another. We truly don’t know other women’s stories. We don’t know why they haven’t had a child yet or why they’re gaining weight, we don’t know their state of health, we don’t know their hearts desires unless they share with us. The truth is some women are able to conceive easily and some women aren’t. Neither is more or less valuable. This is not a competition for “The Best Woman of All Time” or “Mom of the Year” or “The Quickest Body Snapback”. We have to stop playing that game. We must turn our critical and comparison-driven eyes into eyes that look for what’s on the inside. We need to ask ourselves, “How can I support her, how can I make her day easier, or how can I show her love just because?”
The truth is we have the cure for grief and loss within our collective. God created us to empathize and carry one another’s burdens (Galatians 6:2). There are women in your life that you have affected more than you know and there are others you might need to “see” a little better. And if you feel like you haven’t been seen or understood, know that God sees and knows and he gives the best gifts. He has brought healing to my mind, body, and soul. He has brought a gift to our family and this gift will bring light to others lives. You may not see it yet, but the sunshine eventually peeks through the clouds. When you feel that warmth on your face, you will know it’s Him. You won’t be able to deny it. Your answer is on its way. Your grief and your loss was not in vain, there is beauty beneath the surface. Your scars are proof that it’s not over yet.
