The Silent Pain

Since announcing my miscarriage many women have shared with me that they too have lost a baby. Many women experience this tragedy and keep silent. I understand why. It’s a taboo topic. It’s not something you talk about in everyday conversation. It’s not something you include when introducing yourself. When asked how many children a mother has she’ll most likely reply with the number of children living and not include the number she has lost. It makes sense. It would be awkward for most people to hear the response, “I have two children. One is 8 months old and one I miscarried at 9 weeks.” How do you appropriately respond to such a statement? Yet, I would venture to say that most women hold that number in their hearts. I know I do and always will. However many children I go on to have, I’ll always have “x” amount plus the one I lost.

It has been hard to put into words the fact that even though this baby did not develop any further than what it did, it was still my baby. It was mine. Me and my husband’s. It may not have been recognizable as a baby but the egg was fertilized and implanted into the uterus. It was my baby. And had it been healthy it would have grown and developed and come summer I would have given birth. I would have held my baby. But the only way I will ever carry that baby now is in my heart.

Throughout the weekend I was holding myself together and feeling strong. I believe I had put up an emotional roadblock and was holding all the pain and loss at bay. I even kept having thoughts as if I was still pregnant. Maybe I was somewhat in denial. I don’t know. But today I’m starting to feel again.

I feel angry. My heart hurts. I miss my baby. I wish I could have known whether the baby was a boy or a girl. I wish I could have given him or her a name. I wish this hadn’t happened and I wish the baby was still inside of me, growing healthy and strong. My heart hurts thinking about it and I’m tempted to push the hurt away but I know in order to grieve in a healthy way I must deal with the pain. I’m reading a book called Empty Arms and it is helping me accept that I must grieve. And I bought a charm that will be printed with the word “hope” on it along with little footprints and the date of the miscarriage. I’m going to wear it on a chain around my neck as a representation of the baby I lost. It is something I can touch and remember this experience. I felt like it was something I really wanted to do and include in my grieving process.

My heart truly hurts tonight. I am feeling the loss deeply right now. That is good. I am on the road to healing and not stuck behind a wall of pretend strength. I want to be free of this pain. I want my heart to stop hurting. In time, it will come, but for now I ask God to give me peace so I can sleep.


3 thoughts on “The Silent Pain

  1. Thank you for sharing your heart and what you are going through. I am so saddened for your loss. I am glad that you have let down the wall and are allowing yourself to feel the pain and loss. I can only imagine how much it must hurt. So glad that the Lord is near to you and that we know he will pull you guys through this. Love y’all.

  2. Sarah,

    First I want to say you and Kyle both are in our prayers. I just want to give you a hug. It warms my heart to hear that you are starting to heal and leaning on God through this. You are continuing to give Him glory even through a difficult time. Bro. Jim Ethridge told me one time, “you will never forget what happened or get over it, but with God you will get through it”. That is so true. It was and still is for me and I know it is for you as well. Keep leaning on Him and giving Him the glory. I know as humans we fail at trusting and glorifying Him at times. We are praying for you. If you need anything let us know.

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