“We have your results back, and your hCG level is less than one.”
To the average person, that sentence may not mean much. To me, it meant that the two babies I carried in my body for such a painfully brief time had died. My world stopped for a moment. I couldn’t catch my breath. I’m not sure how I finished the phone call with any kind of coherent words. Just like that, all the hopes and dreams that had been building for almost two years crashed to the ground.
For the third time, I began a walk down a very lonely and painful path of grief. These two babies joined two other siblings already in heaven, having gone there just days or weeks after conception. On this most recent journey, on the darkest days, my path went right up to the edge of an abyss of despair and sorrow that threatened to overwhelm me.
But God was there. He was there, and He never left my side, even on the days when I didn’t see Him or even believe that He cared. Slowly He ministered His balm of love and compassion to my wounds. He lifted my head and turned me around so I was no longer facing an abyss but able to once again see His caring hand.
It’s been eight months since that phone call and years since my first two miscarriages. I still have days when the grief threatens to overwhelm again. But God’s love and faithfulness has never wavered, and by His grace, I’ve been able to see some truths about miscarriage and how I can rest in His hands even through this pain.
Lonely But Never Alone
In the weeks and months that followed that devastating phone call, I walked down a path of grief and sorrow that, for the most part, was very lonely. A miscarriage is the loss of a fully human child—we know this from Scripture. In Psalm 139 we read:
For you formed my inward parts; you knitted me together in my mother’s womb. I praise you, for I am fearfully and wonderfully made. Wonderful are your works; my soul knows it very 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 was none of them (vv. 13–16).