Two years ago, I was pregnant. We found a creative way to announce it to the kids. All of us were thrilled. Our house was already buzzing with five sweet kids and we knew that many people in our life wouldn’t understand. But, we still felt there was one more little Swannie missing from our table.
Morning sickness had kicked in. Around 7 weeks I couldn’t hide my growing bump. The weeks were going by quickly. It was an exciting and scary time, thinking of what it would be to transition to a family of eight.
One night at dinner, we decided to discuss baby names with the kids. After lots and lots of suggestions, our little Cupcake suggested we call the baby “Happy.” We decided we would go with the name Happy, until we were able to find out if we were Team Pink or Team Blue.
The very next day my doctor could not find a heartbeat. I drove home devastated. We gathered the kids and told them their baby Happy was gone. I remember the pathetic little huddle we made on the basement floor. Tears streaming down each of our faces, we told God how hurt we were, entrusting our pain to His care. And then, I don’t remember who it was, maybe it was me, it may have been one of the boys, but we started thanking God. We know that the Lord gives and the Lord takes away. Each of us thanked Him for knowing better than we did. It wasn’t an easy prayer. It was a prayer of faith. That prayer of faith turned into a time of sorrow filled worship on that cement floor.
A week or so later, on October 1, David and I walked into a hospital, knowing our baby’s body would leave mine. We faced it bravely. We cried when it was over. My doctor held me and cried at my bed side. We went home that night with empty arms. And for me, an empty womb.
We ached for our baby, but life went forward.
As the days slipped into weeks and then months, I started noticing my body doing strange things. My doctors didn’t seem very worried. But six months after our loss I began to bleed, profusely. And it didn’t stop. For an entire month, I just bled and bled. I was sick and miserable. I either called or went to the doctor nearly every single day. The doctors told me it was “normal” for a woman my age and tried to manage the bleeding with medication.
When I began to hemorrhage, we sat down and prayed. As we prayed, both David and I were convinced God was leading us to do something we thought was outrageous. At 6:00 AM, we drove to a closed doctor’s office, 50 minutes from our house, where I was not an established patient. Miraculously, the doctor came in early that morning and though the clinic was closed, he saw me anyway. After an exam, he scheduled emergency surgery. He asked us about our marriage, wrote down each of our kid’s names, and asked about our faith life. Our appointment wrapped up as he prayed for each one of us by name, prayed for my healing, for wisdom for himself as my surgeon, and off to the hospital we went.
After surgery, the next six months followed with the total absence of bleeding…and the presence of one gigantic cyst. Almost a year since we lost our baby, I was back in the hospital, this time having surgery on my remaining ovary. The cyst removed easily, but other complications kept me in the hospital for several days.
Instead of having a baby, we had a year of suffering
The year we thought would end in a full term pregnancy and the care of a newborn looked quite different. We took on over a year of physical suffering. And in the midst of it, lost our fertility. We were going to end our years of reproduction with loss.
In other loses, I always thought, “We can try again soon!” This time it was, “It’s over. My baby is gone and our family is now complete.”
It’s hard for some to understand that losing your fertility after having five kids is a struggle. For me, it was. It was appropriate to mourn both losses for a season. And then there was a time for my grief to come to a close. Here are some things that helped me move toward peace when I had to say goodbye to my baby and my dreams for my family size:
Choosing a thankful heart. I thanked God for the eight pregnancies He has given me. The five children I am blessed to raise are an amazing blessing and gift. There are three children I will get to meet in heaven, who I didn’t get to meet on earth. What a joy it will be to see precious Anna, Sam, and Happy!
Examining my heart. Were pregnancy and childbirth becoming idols in my life? Was I lacking faith that God’s ways were best? It helped to ask some probing questions to come to a place of acceptance of God’s will for my life and our family. Asking God to cleanse me from any sin and give me faith was helpful and good.
If I felt something was missing in our lives, was there something else God wanted to birth in our family? What new focus could I have with my kids that I couldn’t have had our other baby lived, or our fertility had been restored? What new ministry might God want to give us to use our gifts for His glory? How could I move into this new stage of life as a family with joy and purpose?
I sometimes still look at the empty spot at our table. While I no longer envision a baby there…I do see it as symbolic for our family. That empty chair is there to remind us that Christ is always welcome in our home. Our door is open in hospitality to those who need to be loved. It’s a symbol of work to be done. There are plans laid out for us that God has already prepared in advance. When I think of the one who I thought would sit with my little girls, I’m reminded of the future glory which awaits me; where I will worship Jesus with my three little ones who got to rest in His presence before me. Finally, it’s a reminder that God’s ways are not like my ways; but I can trust His ways, for they are best.
Loss is a difficult part of life. If you’ve suffered miscarriage or infant loss, my heart goes out to you. If you are struggling with infertility or the loss of fertility, I’m so sorry. So many questions go unanswered. I do know however, God is good, you can trust Him, and you are loved.