Julia’s Story

“I’m sorry, I normally can see a heartbeat in a baby this size, but I don’t.”

“I’m sorry, this doesn’t look to me like a viable pregnancy.”

Two different pregnancies, two different ultrasound techs, two different lives lost. And my heart broken two different times.

The doctors say it’s good that my two “missed” miscarriages didn’t happen in a row. I had a healthy son between the two of them. But that didn’t comfort me. Nothing can comfort a woman who has just found out her baby “isn’t viable.” Nothing but the love of Jesus.

The first time I miscarried, the pregnancy was not planned. I still, however, cried buckets of tears in the doctor’s office. The second time around, we had tried for a long time to get pregnant. Well, it was only several months, but it certainly felt long. With that pregnancy, an ER scan had shown my baby on track. Then, ten days later, the baby had hardly grown at my 7 week scan. The heartbeat was too slow for the machine to measure. The following week, we discovered our baby had passed.

I won’t go into the physical details of my miscarriages, other than that my babies died before my body recognized it. That’s why it’s called a “missed” miscarriage. After the first loss, I shared publicly and many people gave me kind words of support. But I also felt people wanted me to just move on. This caused me to feel like I need to hurry up and process. I didn’t process enough. Throughout my pregnancy with my son, I was constantly worried. I could barely relax. When he was almost a year and we thought about having another, I had forgotten somewhat of the pain of my loss. I didn’t really fear miscarriage while I was waiting to see the positive pregnancy test. I didn’t realize that I still hadn’t fully let myself grieve my first sweet baby.

I never imagined I would miscarry again. I remember going home after our first doctor appointment and blaming everything on a seemingly inexperienced ultrasound technician. Still, I knew that things weren’t looking good. Well-meaning friends told me to have faith. The baby had a heartbeat at least. Things could change.

I read stories on the internet of women who were misdiagnosed with miscarriages only to be told the baby was healthy and on track later. I begged God to protect my baby and help him or her grow. While I knew that He hadn’t promised me a healthy baby, I did believe that His ways were higher. I knew that His grace was sufficient for me.

When the next ultrasound showed our baby had passed, it was God’s grace that allowed me to stay calm. On the inside however, I was still falling to pieces. Little did I know how sadly common it is to have two or three, miscarriages before doctors get concerned. My doctor told me that most likely everything was fine physically. Even with that being the case, it didn’t make me feel any better about losing my baby.

I didn’t lose a fetus. I didn’t lose a ball of cells. I didn’t lose “products of conception.” I lost a child, whose life was known by God before we ever stared down at the two lines on a pregnancy test. Many people have tried to make me feel better by saying things like: “At least it was an early loss”, or “At least you still have Joel.” But little do they know, that only seems to make me feel as though I must minimize my grief.

After this recent loss, a friend of mine added me to the Hope Mommies community on Facebook. I started sharing my story right away and getting to know other Hope Mommies. I met many “virtual” friends who have been through miscarriage, stillbirth, or infant loss. I had a safe space to share with people who were walking this path with me. No one wants to be a part of this club, but it is good to know I’m not alone.

Through my journey, God has brought a new purpose for me. I feel compelled to write and share about my losses because I want other women out there to know there is hope. Yes, I still struggle with grief, fear, anxiety, and even crushing sadness some days. But my God has carried me through.

There is hope that comes after loss. My son, Joel, is a constant reminder of God’s faithfulness. I know not every Hope Mommy has living children. Trust me, I understand how fortunate I am to have him, and I celebrate the lives of my babies in heaven too. In fact, I thank God every day for giving me three babies. Two of them I am just still waiting to meet.

I know I could have easily turned away from God after going through this pain. But instead I decide daily to lay it at His feet. Am I perfect? No way! I struggle all the time with the feeling that two pieces of me are missing, but I know they are with Jesus. I know one day I will meet my Hope Babies. This isn’t an easy road, but I’m glad I have the hope that comes from the arms of my heavenly Father.

Julia is a stay at home mom and volunteers as Preschool Ministry director at her church. She has two babies in heaven and one son, Joel. She and her husband enjoy spending time with their son and being involved in their church.