Miscarriage, Gemma, and Pregnancy Loss Awareness Day

October weighs heaven on my heart this year. At the end of this month we were due to welcome a sweet new baby into our hearts and home. It is an emptiness I am acutely aware of. But life seldom meets our expectations. Sometimes it exceeds them far beyond our wildest imagination, but sometimes it falls so very short. 

Suffering miscarriage is, honestly, something I never thought would happen to me. It happens all the time, but deep down, I never thought I would have to go through it. It’s a painful experience, spiritually, physically, and emotionally. It’s hard to let go of someone you didn’t know but so desperately wanted to meet and to hold and to shower in love and kisses. And honestly, I expected to “move on” faster than I have. But I suppose there is no moving on. There is healing and there is hope, but I can’t call it moving on.

Miscarriage, though so common, is not something people often talk about. This can make it feel so incredibly isolating. It’s already devastating, but keeping it all inside makes it so much harder. Going to work and pretending like nothing happened is even worse. Living in a society that says life is disposable and abortion is empowering to women hits me like a ton of bricks. 

So how do we bring recognition and dignity to these tiny souls, gloriously shining for all eternity in heaven? How do we bring hope into the darkness and pain of this sort of loss?

Though there are so many aspects of this I’d love to write about, there are two specific things I want to mention.

First, when I had friends who went through miscarriage before I had gone through it myself, I had no idea what to do or say. I know I’ve said the wrong things in search of the right words. I’ve also said too little and not done enough. But being on this side of things, I want to offer some advice. If you know someone who has gone through it, don’t be afraid. Love them. Don’t search for words or advice, simply express your sorrow. Give them a hug. Be a presence. Send them flowers. Ask them what the name of their baby was. It doesn’t take much. I remember venturing out of the house to TJ Maxx to simply get my mind off things for a while. I ran into someone from bible study who knew what had been going on, as I had asked for prayers. Of course, I wanted to run and hide, but she looked me in the eye, asked me how I was doing (I started crying in the middle of the store), and she gave me a really good hug. She didn’t avoid me. She wasn’t afraid of my tears. And as much as I would have loved to avoid the discomfort of crying in public, I was so grateful. I knew I wasn’t alone. 

Second, there is a beautiful place I wish everyone knew about. I’d like to spread some awareness, so if you should encounter someone who has had a miscarriage or  stillbirth, please pass this info along.

Jon and I found such comfort in the Memorial to the Unborn at the Shrine of Our Lady of Guadalupe in La Crosse, WI. It is a quiet, peaceful, prayerful memorial that honors these glorious little souls.

You can have limestone engravings with the name of your unborn child and the date of their birth into eternal life etched into the walls of the memorial. It also offers an opportunity for entombment of the remains of unborn children up to 20 weeks with an engraving on granite. There is something so powerful in giving this unborn child a name and memorializing it. 

There is something so touching about the beautiful statues at the memorial. One of them is a bronze sculpture of Mary holding several tiny babies. I think of that image often. I can’t help but imagine Mary holding our sweet Gemma with such joy and motherly affection until the day we can do so for ourselves. 

So today, on National Pregnancy and Infant Loss Remembrance Day, please pray for all those who have experienced miscarriage, stillbirth, or infant loss. It is such a difficult and hidden cross. Chances are that more of the women you know have experienced this type of loss than those who haven’t. 

Pray with me: