today we remember

by holly j. clemente

Today is the eight-year anniversary of my miscarriage, of losing the baby I never got to hold. In some ways it still feels like it was yesterday, yet at the same time life has stopped for nothing. As time passes, the memories become distant, but I still carry it with me every day. It is a part of the story God is writing in my life, and I will never forget.

It was the pregnancy that ended far too soon, and a time in my life where the emptiness in my heart matched the emptiness in my arms. It was my sixth pregnancy and I had no reason to suspect that anything would go wrong. My previous pregnancies had been healthy and had all ended with the same result- a beautiful blessing from God in the form of a baby. When my husband and I found out that we were expecting for the sixth time, we were ecstatic. We shared the news with our children as soon as possible, and all of them shared our joy. We tracked the baby’s growth and progress on a daily basis. We chose names for our baby and we made so many plans. As we organized our calendar for the coming months, the new baby was at the forefront of our minds. Every thought, every plan, was made taking into account the new little life that had already changed our lives and our family.

In my fourth month of the pregnancy, a small spot of blood sent us quickly to see my doctor for an unplanned appointment. The doctor asked me a few questions and then decided to do an ultrasound. When she told me that she couldn’t find the baby’s heartbeat, I felt as if my own heart had stopped in my chest. My mind froze as my doctor’s words took me under like an ocean wave. My baby had died, and a miscarriage was inevitable. Besides the feelings of incredible loss, the dark hole that I was trying not to drown in, I could not imagine telling my other children that this baby- the baby they had prayed and waited for, the baby they were so excited to share their lives with- would never be born. I cried out to God for wisdom, for the words that my mind could not formulate as my heart wept, and I suddenly knew one thing for sure. We needed to share our grief with them. We needed to allow them to voice their doubts and ask their questions. We needed them to see how this loss so deeply affected us, how this tiny life would always be a part of us and our story.

The kids cried and asked their questions- the same questions that were swirling in my mind, though I didn’t have the courage to voice them. “How could God let this happen? Didn’t he hear our prayers? Couldn’t he have healed whatever was wrong with our baby? Why did he let our baby die?” And in the middle of this storm of uncertainty, there was an echo of truth that resonated within my soul and left my mouth in response. We can trust that God is good all the time. Even when we don’t understand the things that he does, even when life doesn’t make sense, we can trust Him. And even now, He is not afraid of our questions, doubts, and fears. We can pray them to Him, shout them at Him, and He will not be moved. In fact, He loves us so much that He cries with us, He holds us in our grief, and we can trust Him to bring us through this loss.

When your baby dies, a piece of you dies as well. The guilt, the feeling that you’ve failed as a mother at the most basic level, tries to eat you alive. You wonder if your baby would’ve had your smile or your quick wit. You wonder if your baby would’ve had your pointy ears or your quirky nose. You wonder what your baby would have grown up to be. Not a day goes by when you don’t think of your child…not a holiday goes by when you don’t wish your child were with you…not a year goes by when you don’t silently count back, thinking how old your baby would be right now if only things had turned out differently. The hole in your heart, the hole in your family, it never goes away.

Clichés and platitudes offered in moments of loss are often over-used and misinterpreted. While the intention behind them may be good, hearing that God has a plan for everything, or that your baby has become your guardian angel, is not helpful. It all seems empty, like fantasies that you are unable to reconcile with the cold realities of life. There simply are no words that can alleviate the sorrow. But no matter the grief, no matter how big the loss, you can be sure that God will be there. He will cry with you and carry you through. He will be with you as you face a new normal, even as it includes the hole from the loss that has changed you forever.

And so it was. The most difficult season of our lives became a sacred place where we met with the God who grieves with us and holds us in his love when we can’t understand what is happening around us. Our loss became a holy ground moment, where we showed up with our tears and fears and uncertainties, and God met us there to change the moment forever. As our Avery slipped to the other side of eternity, my comfort was in knowing that the arms that were holding my baby were the exact same arms that were holding me in my grief.

“Do not be afraid or discouraged, for the Lord will personally go ahead of you. He will be with you; he will neither fail nor abandon you.” Deuteronomy 31:8 NLT

“I waited patiently for the Lord; And He inclined to me and heard my cry. He brought me up out of the pit of destruction, out of the miry clay, and He set my feet upon a rock making my footsteps firm. He put a new song in my mouth, a song of praise to our God; Many will see and hear and will trust in the Lord.” Psalm 40:1-3 NASB

“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 with not consume you.” Isaiah 43:2 NLT

“You’ve kept track of my every toss and turn through the sleepless nights, Each tearentered in your ledger, each ache written in your book…I’m proud to praise God, proud to praise God. Fearless now, I trust in God; what can mere mortals do to me? God, you did everything you promised, and I’m thanking you with all my heart. You pulled me from the brink of death, my feet from the cliff-edge of doom.” Psalm 56:8, 10-13

So, today we remember. Today is a day we commemorate with our very own version of camping out, including roasted marshmallows and fireworks. We remember Avery Evan, the baby who’s short life changed our lives forever. We remember how God showed up in a tangible way during such a painful time. And we remember how God’s faithfulness has sustained us and brought us to today.

If you are going through pain or loss today, be assured that God is walking with you. Physical reality may make you doubt those words, but hang on to what is true. God has not left you, and He is at work even in the painful and the messy. He is holding you, and someday you will look back on today and you will remember.

If you would like to read more about my miscarriage story, grab a copy of my book, A Painful Kind of Holy

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