Jennifer’s Story

From early in our marriage, we had talked about having four children. Right after an end of year trip for our 10^th anniversary, we learned we were expecting our 4^th baby! We were thrilled! I wasn’t experiencing the symptoms that I typically did with early pregnancy, but knowing every pregnancy can be different, I tried not to be concerned. We were already thinking of what the future would hold with a new baby. But, on January 18, 2014, the day did not go as anticipated. I started lightly bleeding, and my heart dropped. It soon turned into heavier bleeding, to the point where I knew that our baby would not be staying with us on earth. My husband and I cried and clung to each other that night.

 

Admittedly, I tried to not think about this baby, rationalizing that there might not have even been a heartbeat yet…as if that made him or her less of a person. Growing up, death was modeled to me as, “It’s just one of those things that happened. You move on.” So that’s what I attempted to do. I refused to grieve, but instead attempted to just “move on” and try again. I didn’t want others to be sad either, including my husband, the father of this precious baby. I tried to downplay the whole thing. And, that’s just what I did.

 

We were blessed to conceive again quickly. So, in my mind, I though, eh, just a bump in my plan. So, here we are with our 5^th pregnancy, and every symptom was strong and right on par with my other healthy pregnancies. We heard and recorded the heartbeat at home at 8 ½ weeks and shared with our older children, who were elated! They named the baby “Tiny.” At our 10 ½ week appointment, the heartbeat was still very strong by Doppler.

 

On April 12, the day before my 36^th birthday, I noted the slightest bit of red on the toilet paper a few times during the day. It was so minimal, and didn’t continue, so I tried not to worry about it. I had no other warning signs, and still had all of my typical pregnancy symptoms. However, it hadn’t happened in my previous healthy pregnancies, so it did stick in the back of my mind.

 

April 15, 2014 was a Tuesday, and I decided to pull out my Doppler again, just for a quick listen. I still couldn’t completely get the spotting from a few days prior out of my head, so this would ease my worries. I hadn’t listened since my appointment a couple of weeks before. I was 12 weeks and 3 days at this point. I grabbed my Doppler while my youngest was napping. I was just going to listen and then take a nap. Silence. My heart began to race. I kept moving the Doppler around, desperately longing to hear that fast thump thump. Nothing. I started to panic and really take note of every symptom in my body. Were they still there, as strong, fading?

 

April 16: 12 weeks 4 days. After an awful night, filled with mental and physical angst, I was already convinced our baby was gone. I called my midwife early in the morning. She tried to be optimistic and sent us for an ultrasound. The car ride to the ultrasound was painfully long. My husband remained hopefully optimistic. I so wanted to be wrong.

 

We went into the dark room for the scan with hope given that the baby was probably just hiding. The probe was placed on my abdomen, and I knew. We stared at the big screen on the wall. There was our baby. No movement. No heartbeat. I wailed. How could this be happening? We had already gone through a pregnancy loss! This one was supposed to be fine. Why? Why? Why? As I laid on the table, my husband laid over me and we just wept. Then, the questions began—looking for answers. Was it hormones? I was getting older. Was it chromosomal issues? We’d never know.

 

We were completely numb. We had to tell our kids. Then, we had to tell everyone else. We were devastated. Telling our kids that day was heart-wrenching. They had been so excited about this baby. They wept and asked, “Why? How?” They expressed all of the questions I had. We were all heartbroken. So many tears. Babies weren’t supposed to die before we got to meet them, were they?

 

As I waited for my body to recognize that our baby was no longer living, we came to Easter Sunday. It was the most bittersweet day. My heart was shattered, and while I knew this day signified so much hope for heaven, I was just completely weak. His soul was already in heaven, yet I was cradling his lifeless body in my womb. I couldn’t stop the tears at church. I was so conflicted in my heart and thoughts.

 

That night, I went into labor, and on Monday, April 21, 2014, at 1:20am, our baby was born at home. He (that’s what I feel in my heart he was, but the kids think girl—only God knows, as it was too early to know definitively) was born gently cushioned inside the amniotic sac. We were able to hold him and admire all of his delicate features including toes, fingers, ears, eyes, mouth… Simply amazing. This time was so sacred. We held our sweet baby in the palm of our hands, admiring the great detail that God had put into him. God was so faithful to give us this time, and blessed us to be able to share also with our kids in the morning. Our older children were amazed at the sweet features of their sibling. One of them said, “Mommy, I think the baby is smiling. I know why—because he’s with Jesus.” Yes, son, yes. And, oh, the amount of detail that God puts into each being is astounding.

“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.”

Psalm 139:13-16

The story did not end there. Over the next year, I struggled hard. I wrestled with God. I questioned everything I had ever been taught about Him. I grew further away from my husband as we grieved so differently. There were key people in my life that allowed me to openly grieve and they grieved with me. Grief can be ugly, and it takes a special person to encourage grief and not try to fix you. I didn’t like Scriptures being shared with me. I was mad at God, so how could His Word comfort me? I knew what Scripture said, but that wasn’t what I wanted to hear. I couldn’t sing praise songs at church for months. How could I praise the One that gave and then took away? I grew apart from some of my friends. I felt alone. Isolated. I grieved. I wept often. I cried out to Him. I was so hurt and angry. I never stopped thinking about my babies. Why were they not with me? Yet, I yearned for heaven more than I ever had.

 

A few months later, in October, we finally shared with our children that we had another baby that we had said goodbye to just before our Tiny. This brought more sadness and questions. I had no answers. They wanted to name that baby, too, so they decided on “Teeny.” They may be silly names to some, but our kids desired to name these babies, so that’s what happened. It makes me smile to call their names. Teeny and Tiny Joyner.

 

As we neared the end of the year, my husband asked me to go to counseling. I was a little upset at him for this. How dare he suggest I needed help? Some wise friends encouraged me to go through with his request. I went for my first visit with a Christian counselor right before Christmas, just about a year since our journey to have another child began.

 

I started to be faced with the reality of how I had lived my life up to this point. I was throwing a fit, and feeling justified in doing so, since God hadn’t worked things out the way I had planned them. I wanted to be in control. I was not a stranger to loss and pain—most notable was the death of my father when I was 2 years old. I had figured that my life’s tribulations up to now were enough. I had continued to be the faithful Christian girl through my life. So, my thinking was that I had done my time, and now life should continue as I had planned. I prayed, I read the Bible, and I even lead Bible studies. So, my plans should always be a “yes” from God. Surely my plans were the best. Didn’t God owe me?

 

Oh, but God. He began to gently reveal to my husband and I more of who He really is. Some of my questions in the early days were about His control and sovereignty. I had never really considered what the sovereignty of God meant. I knew what many had taught me growing up in church. He was sovereign in the good things, of course! But…what about the hard things? Does He govern those, too? Is He in control of all things? God showed us through His Word that He is completely in control and sovereign over all things, good and bad. He knew the number of days that my babies would be with me, and nothing I did or didn’t do would change that. I am not in control.

 

“A person’s days are determined; you have decreed the number of his months and have set limits he cannot exceed.”

Job 14:5

My babies were real and had a purpose. They were known by God before they were conceived. He made them in His image, and He ordained every single one of their days. They are happily enjoying the presence of our God and Savior in heaven, which is the absolute best place to be. Their purpose may not ever be fully known by me, and I am learning to be okay with that. But, I do know that God continues to work all of it out for His glory and for my good. I am learning to trust in His sovereign will for my life.

 

There likely will be more trials to come in this life, and I’ll continue to learn more about His sovereignty, and may wrestle with Him more. But, I know that His ways and thoughts are higher than mine, so I don’t have to understand. He continues to show me that I am not in control. He is. I’m finding comfort in that more each day. There is a depth and richness to my journey that did not exist prior to Teeny and Tiny. I am thankful that their short time in the womb has already made such a lasting impact on my life and my walk with our God and Savior. I have a hope in seeing my God and Savior face-to-face one day, and that is what I truly long for. I’m so thankful that God is so patient, gentle, and continues to sanctify me. As much as I tried to push Him away from me, He remained faithful to me, and never let go of me. A dear friend of mine, who is also a Hope Mom, shared the following passage with me, and it continues to minister to my heart. What a comforting promise from God.

 

“Do not be afraid, for I have ransomed you.

I have called you by name; you are mine.

When you go through deep waters,

I will be with you.

When you go through rivers of difficulty,

you will not drown.

When you walk through the fire of oppression,

you will not be burned up;

the flames will not consume you.

For I am the Lord your God,

the Holy One of Israel, your Savior.”

Isaiah 43:1-3

There is so much more to my story. This is just a glimpse of the journey God has taken me on, and how He has continued to reveal more of Himself to me. I understand the gospel now more than I even did when I wrote this story a few months ago. Hopefully, I can share more of my story in the future. I pray that you are encouraged, and ultimately, that my God be glorified!

– Jennifer

Hope Mom to Teeny and Tiny

 

We would be honored to share your story as a Hope Mom on our blog! Every Saturday we feature a Hope Mom’s story in order to showcase God’s faithfulness even in the midst of such deep sorrow. If you would like to have your story shared on our blog for this purpose, learn more and submit here:

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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