Pregnancy & Infant Loss - Megan's Story

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October is Pregnancy & Infant Loss Awareness month, and we want to mark it at Rooted Birth by sharing our own stories of loss. Everyone’s losses, and the subsequent ways we process, grieve, and heal, are so different, so we will be sharing a blog post for each member of our team that chooses to share their story in their own way.

Today, I’m re-sharing the blog I wrote in 2016 after we lost our sweet girl, Jude. Her 5th birthday is coming up this February, and our lives have changed so much since she was born.

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I’ve been living right on the edge of tears lately. Today was supposed to be the day we had our first ultrasound. We were supposed to see our perfectly formed little baby kicking inside me. We were supposed to find out the sex of our baby and start bouncing around names and nursery decor ideas. Instead, we are planning the burial of our sweet baby Jude.

On Thursday, February 11, at 19 weeks pregnant, we found out baby Jude had gone to be with Jesus some weeks before, and that I would need to be induced the next day. We met our little angel baby on Friday, February 12, 2016 and she was absolutely perfect and is forever in the arms of Jesus.

This story is about God’s goodness, but it isn’t easy to write. I have been so encouraged by the stories of other women who have had to say goodbye to their babies all too soon, and I hope that this story can be that encouragement for someone else.

I spent much of my pregnancy with Hudson in fear that something would go wrong. Just one tiny month before I got pregnant with Hudson, I miscarried a baby at 6 weeks. I didn’t even know I was pregnant before I wasn’t. I took my prenatal vitamins religiously, I avoided baths, I warmed up all the lunch meat, I became a frequent Googler, and I ate steamed rice and edamame at sushi restaurants, because I was not taking any chances, folks. Despite my often paralyzing fear, I had an entirely uncomplicated pregnancy and delivery with Hudson. In early November, we found out I was expecting again! Oh, how my heart already loved and cherished this little one! God had already been doing a work in my heart and revealing more of His character to me. I was learning that my fear, doubt, and jealousy stemmed from something I wasn’t believing about God. I wasn’t believing that He was giving me His best life for ME. Of this disbelief, I repented, and from that I found so much freedom. I learned with this pregnancy that God promises the fullness of life and the fullness of life cannot possibly include fear.

So I resolved to trust. I resolved to trust that God loves this little baby even more than I do. I learned from wise friends what this kind of trust looked like. My friend Abby wrote last January about Shadrach, Meschach and Abednego and their unwavering faith in God in Daniel 3. They were faced with the choice of bowing down to Nebuchadnezzar’s idol or death in the fiery furnace and they chose to cling to God, even if that meant death. They said to the King, “…our God whom we serve is able to deliver us from the burning fiery furnace, and he will deliver us out of your hand, O king.  But if not, be it known to you, O king, that we will not serve your gods or worship the golden image that you have set up.” And God does save them. He rewards their faithfulness. I love this story, but Abby’s words stuck with me the most:

…[God] was convicting me, as Gabriel’s mother, to utter nothing other than, “Thy will be done.” I couldn’t pray anything else. I was so thankful that hundreds of others were praying for Gabriel’s physical healing, but the Spirit had me locked into a place of desiring acceptance only. That may sound strange or radical or unkind of God. It wasn’t. It was the kindest place I could be, perhaps the closest to God’s heart I’ve ever felt.

I remember thinking that I didn’t know what that kind of faith was like. I admired it. And I haven’t been able to forget her words. Of course, I didn’t wish for a tragedy that would have me uttering these same words, but here we are. In this place, this is the closest to God’s heart I’ve ever felt. As we were walking to our ultrasound with orders that read, “no fetal tones” and “viability,” I knew in my heart that something was wrong, and all I could hear was God whispering to me, “Trust in Me, Trust in Me.” And I obeyed. I trusted that even if our baby was not okay, He is still good.

In retrospect, I can see that God had been preparing my heart for that moment. I have listened to podcasts where women have spoken honestly about loss and how it was in those hardest, darkest moments that they felt closest to God. I have prayed earnestly for friends facing pregnancy loss and infertility and asked that God would lead me in His Spirit to understand their battles. I had a dream, about a week before I started bleeding, that Wes and I showed up to the ultrasound expecting a healthy baby, and there was no heartbeat. “It’s just a stupid dream,” I told myself. But I see now that it was God’s mercy. On Wednesday night, before my appointment, I remembered that I didn’t have my Bible study finished and I needed to be there at 8:45am fully prepared. That night, the format of the study was different. Instead of camping out in a chapter of Revelation, I was jumping all over the Bible looking up at least 30 verses about suffering. I was reminded that in God’s tender mercy, He limits the suffering of His people. I read about how one day there will be no more suffering. And the next day, I learned that our baby was gone.

I can’t explain this as anything other than God’s mercy. He knows all things, He planned all things, He created this life, and He allowed it to be taken away for a reason. I may never know the reason or the purpose, but I have a hope that transcends all earthly pain and suffering. God has been merciful to me, and for that I am grateful. I have peace and rest knowing that baby Jude is with Jesus, and one day I will know her. Though God’s mercy and goodness have been so evident to me, this is still hard. Will you please pray for us as we navigate this grief in the days to come? Will you pray for us as we bury our baby and await genetic test results? Will you pray that God would continue to reveal Himself to us in His great mercy? And will you please pray that our story, Jude’s story, would ultimately bring glory to God?

As we were holding Jude, the song You are God and You are Good by Austin Stone Worship started playing on my phone. I am praying that this chorus continues to be the cry of my heart in this season:

You are God, you’re the risen King
You are good, Lord of everything
no mountain, no valley could ever separate us from your love
no power, no darkness, could ever stand between us
no mountain, no valley could ever separate us from your love
You are God and You are Good
yes we know that you are God and you are Good

Thank you for reading, my friends, and partnering with us in prayer. We are ever so blessed by all of you.