The Loss of a Dream Child - Grieving Your Miscarriage

December 12, 1986

My husband had been away on a Navy ship when I discovered that after 3 years of medical treatments and 7 years of marriage - we were having a baby.  All the stupid drugs and charts and scheduled sex had achieved it's goal.

In my excitement for this long anticipated pregnancy I began to crochet a baby sweater, cap and bootie set.  As my fingers worked the needle and thread, my heart dreamed of what this child would look like.  Did we have a boy or a girl?   What color was their hair going to be?  What would their talents be?  Would the child have my temperament or Mr. Rosey's?   No reality yet to accept, but my heart was weaving my dream child.

I decided that telling him by letter was not a good thing, so I waited those weeks alone.  Savoring the knowledge that I now carried life.  I planned different ways of how to tell him, "Honey, we're having a baby!"

The ship was scheduled to return on December 13th but I looked up on the 12th to see Mr. Rosey coming through the front door.  I was astonished and thrilled.  I ran to him, threw my arms around his neck and proceeded to weep with joy.  All the planned ways of telling him flew out my mind.

My tears alarmed him, so I told him to sit down and I gave him the news.  He was exuberant and joyful.  We decided to go celebrate.  We shopped through the baby departments at the mall, then went to dinner.

It was during dinner, that I suddenly felt ill.  I was sick to my stomach.  I asked to go home immediately.  On the drive, I started cramping.  5 minutes later, I moved to go to the door and felt a very WRONG sensation.

I hurried to the bathroom and confirmed my worst fears.  I yelled my anguished denial, which brought Mr. Rosey immediately to the door.  A shaky call to the doctor said there was nothing that could be done to prevent this now.  It was happening.

I laid on our bed, as our dream child was violently pushed away.  I sobbed through the contractions, the pain and all the blood.  My loving husband cradled me in his arms and sang to me through the hours.  

Alabama - There's No Way

In time, the tiny body of our baby was delivered and we wept together as we put in the specimen jar to be taken to the clinic on Monday.  I felt like my life had ended with the loss of that tiny baby.  It was going to be a lousy Christmas.  

It was made harder by friends and church members who treated our loss like it was nothing to be grieved about.  "It's God's will." I was told.  "God's way of getting rid of a defective child."  "God loved your baby so much, he wanted them back."   Rather than allow my grief they damaged my view of God and His goodness.  

I learned through the experience.   It's okay that we don't know why these things happen.  Don't try to defend God.  The reason "why" is immaterial, even though it's the first question we ask.  Accepting the loss and moving on is impertinent.   Don't fall to the need to fill the awkward silence of their grief with platitudes and hurtful concepts.   Allow the family to grieve their loss of the dream child.  Let them feel their pain and be there to hug them.  Show them you love and care and hurt for them in tangible, loving ways.   I gave the sweater set I'd crocheted to friend who had a baby.  If I had another  child, I would crochet their own sweater set.

Another baby was conceived 6 months later, and this child grew strong.  He is a young man with a new wife.  His life infused mine with joy and I cannot consider for a second not having him in our lives.

But it has been 26 years and I still remember the pain of losing that baby. The mother never forgets. She remembers and gives honor while she continues to love those around her and thank the Father for His blessings.