Jane’s Story
The sounds of my IV drip flowing, the vital signs monitor randomly beeping off and on…and worship music. It was not what I would expect to hear while lying in an emergency room bed, but my husband was playing the worship music on his phone next to me, clutching my hand so tightly in an attempt to keep me calm. I closed my eyes and desperately wanted to go back to last month. How much had changed in such a short time frame. Last month I was not in excruciating pain. Last month I wasn’t constantly worrying over whether my body would go through this process naturally. Last month I wasn’t hurting over having lost our baby.
I thought back to how shocked my husband and I were when we first found out we were expecting. I thought about how we could not sleep at all that night and even started to think of baby names. I thought about the most genuine joy we saw in our family members’ faces when we shared our news with them in creative ways. I thought about how every ache and symptom I experienced had turned into something exciting. I thought about how we had started praying for and talking to our baby and how my husband would lay his hands on my belly every morning and pray before he went to work.
I thought about how excited and nervous I had been for my 13-week appointment so I could finally hear our baby’s heartbeat and share the good news with everyone. I thought about the look on my husband’s face as I got in the car after the appointment and started sobbing uncontrollably because the doctor had not been able to find a heartbeat. I remembered the anxious thought that had been in the back of mind since I first learned I was pregnant, and I thought about how the situation I feared had come true.
I had indeed envisioned myself in a hospital bed with my husband clutching my arm, except at the end of that scenario we were holding our baby. As I opened my eyes in that emergency room, I thought about how we would be leaving the hospital today empty-handed. After the doctor had confirmed that I had miscarried. I had initially decided to wait for the process to happen naturally. After this did not happen, the doctor had prescribed medication to aid in that process. A couple of hours after taking the medication, I could not tolerate the pain, and so we went to the emergency room. After the emergency room physician had finished examining me, she asked both me and my husband if we were ok, to which we both automatically responded, “Yes.”
Flash forward a month later, when two of my close girlfriends asked me the same question, to which I responded the same way. I was ok, wasn’t I? I had spent the last month doing everything I thought could help me. I opened up to my close friends and talked my feelings out. I read Christian books about dealing with suffering. I spent time doing other uplifting activities such as painting, video-editing, and going on long scenic walks. I thought I had been handling things well. The truth only hit me when my friend said, “I don’t think you’re okay.” I wasn’t.
I had distracted myself from dealing with the pain, from grieving, and even from praying about it. I realized that my perception of strength was flawed. Growing up I thought strength meant not crying and not showing any emotion. I thought it was measured by how quickly you could push yourself forward. I also mistakenly thought that I had this strength. In reality, strength is the exact opposite of what I thought. Strength is confronting your feelings. Strength is being open and vulnerable. Strength comes in acknowledging that I cannot get through this on my own—I need God. I need His strength.
I realized then that no amount of venting, reading, painting, or walking could bring me the healing that I desperately longed for. That healing would only come from God, and I needed to give this burden to Him. Starting then, I began to spend more time in prayer every day. Every day I would bring God my hurt, doubt, and pain and ask Him to be my comfort. I would lay down all my questions that I had been wrestling with in my mind: Was God still for me? Would I ever feel ok again? Would He work this out for our good? As I brought Him my questions, God started to work in my heart.
I realized how I had let my situation and my feelings distort my view of God and distort His truth. I began to realize that even in this season of pain, I could see His grace, protection, and favor over us. I saw friends and family go out of their way to show us that they cared—through flowers, food, gifts, and their constant prayers. I saw God show us that we were not alone in this journey, as others who had walked the same path opened up about their experiences. I saw how God had allowed friendships that had grown distant to rekindle and bring us support. Most of all I saw God reveal to us more of His character and more of who we are in Him.
Regardless of what may change in our lives, we can be certain that He has not changed and never will. God is for me. He is constantly watching over me. He sees and understands my pain more than anyone else. He sees my flaws, failures, doubts, and fears, and yet He loves me just the same. He is still my loving Father. We are His children, highly valued and loved. I could find everything that I was desperately searching for in Him. Peace. Healing. Freedom. I could not get through this on my own, and I was not expected to. God would carry me through; I just had to walk towards Him.
- Jane
Hope Mom to Baby Mettil
Jane loves the Lord and strives to serve Christ along with her sweet husband in PA. She is Texas born and works in healthcare. She enjoys spending time with her family, traveling, coffee, and video editing in her free time.
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