How Miscarriage Affects a Marriage

I received this by email and thought it was a great post. Since I’ve dealt with the issue of miscarriage in my own life, I wanted to post this in hopes that it might be helpful to others.


My Daughter, My Blessing

My Daughter, My Blessing


My precious daughter, how thrilled I was to find that the Lord had chosen me to be a mother to you.

I looked so forward to the awaited day when I’d give birth to you.

I watched in awe as my body changed,

And thought of how our lives would be rearranged,

To welcome you to share our days,

To bring us joy in many ways.

Little did I know that it wouldn’t come to pass,

Or how I’d feel like my whole world just collapsed.

My body aches to have you growing inside of me.

My arms ache for the day that I can hold you close to me.

Even in the midst of my grief, the Lord has been so good to me.

I have truly seen Him through the ones He’s sent to comfort me.

I’ve received cards, flowers, and phone calls, which have meant so very much,

But it’s through the prayers and hugs that I’ve truly felt our Father’s touch.

Losing you is truly the hardest thing I’ve been through,

But in the midst of it all, one thing is true —

I’ve never seen God be any better, or any nearer.

And each day the way is growing clearer.

It became so clear that I realized what a blessing you’ve been to me.

For if it wasn’t for you, I wouldn’t have seen God’s love reaching out like this to me.

I’ve felt His comfort, and I’ve felt His peace,

And through all the tears, I’ve felt sweet release.

My precious daughter, you’ve been such a blessing in my life.

I was going to name you Rebecca, but it didn’t fit the calling that God placed on your life.

So I changed your name to Tiffany, for I’ve seen the appearance of God in the midst of my pain,

And because of you, my child, my world will never be the same.

Your middle name is Brooke, for I shall cry a brook of tears

‘Til the day I shall see you, and hold you near.

Even in the short time that I carried you inside my womb, I grew to love you so very much.

I prayed for you to love the Lord, and be sensitive to His touch.

Now I know that you are with Him, safe in every way,

And my precious Tiffany, just wait for me, for your Ma Ma’s coming home someday.

© 2004, Stacy R Miller

Miscarried Messages


Miscarried Messages

What did I learn through my miscarriage?

1.  I needed to talk about it.  I have always been a talker, so it was only natural that in trying to process the depths of my grief, I needed to talk.  However, when my dear friend (Judy) lost her triplets, I saw that she needed to pull away and grieve in private.  I was able to see that very early on, and I granted her that space.  I still continued to call, realizing that I would most likely get the answering machine, but felt the need to let her know that I was thinking of her and praying for her.  I also continued to send her cards.

2.  I learned what NOT to say.  One of the first people who knew of my miscarriage said, “Well, you can always have another one.”  I didn’t want ‘another’ one.  I wanted the baby I just lost! 

For some people, they don’t want to hear, “Well, there was probably something wrong with the baby, so it’s for the better that you miscarried.”  Knowing my temperament, I couldn’t picture myself dealing with a special needs child, so that comment actually helped me.  (A lot of my attitude on that issue could stem from the immaturity in my Christian walk at that point.) However, for most people, those kinds of comments are far more hurtful than helpful.

After several months have passed, if a friend is still grieving over her loss, please do not say to her, “Oh!  You’re still grieving?”  I can guarantee you that she would be very hurt by such an insensitive comment.  I heard one lady tell a story about a “friend” who said, “Are you done with that grieving stuff?”  None of us need those kinds of “friends.”

Another hurtful thing for me was when I would refer to my baby as Tiffany.  People who insensitively say, “How did you know that it was a girl?”  I found that comment very rude, and would try to gracefully walk away before my flesh rose up and told them a thing or two!  Granted, I miscarried at eight weeks, so there was no scientific way of knowing.  I just know that years before, Dean and I had prayed that we would have a girl when we did start trying to conceive. 

3.  I learned what TO say to someone.  Simply saying, “I’m so sorry,”  is often enough.  Another thing that helped was when people would say, “I’m praying for you.”  If someone would call to check on me in the months after the miscarriage, that meant so much to me.

4.  What to do to help.  I received numerous cards, which I still have to this day.  Some were thinking of you cards and some were actually sympathy cards.  The sympathy cards meant the most because I knew the people who sent them recognized that I’m not just having a hard trial, but rather, I lost my baby.  They recognized the miscarriage for what it was: a death.

I received an email from a lady who trying to minister to a friend who delivered a stillborn at seven months.  She wanted to know how to help.  One of the best things we can do besides pray for someone who is dealing with a loss of this kind is to mail them a card, to be received on the actual due date.  I promise you that she will be thinking of her baby on the due date.  She will be touched to know that you are thinking of her and the baby on that date. 

Another thing is to write down the date of when a friend miscarries.  The following year, be sure to send her a card on that date.  She will  remember it, and again, she’ll be touched that you took the time to remember her pain.

If someone miscarries her first baby, send her a card or flowers on Mother’s Day.  Acknowledge that she is still a mother. 

5.  As I stated in a prior message, I felt the need to name my child.  I also realized that I would never have any pictures of her to hang in the house, but I wanted to have something special with which to acknowledge her.  I went to the Christian bookstore and found the wallet sized cards with her first and middle name on them, along with a Bible verse that goes with her name.  I then put them in a small frame to display at home.  Somehow, that made me feel better.  Looking back on that time, it dawned on me that the cards I bought had a rainbow through them.  I felt like I was drowning in my grief and tears, but God was showing me His promise that this ‘flood’ would not overtake me.

6.  One thing that I was totally unprepared for:

Just a few weeks after having lost my baby, I went to play back a message on my answering machine.  It was from a portrait studio, congratulating me on the birth of my baby.  I called them back and I proceeded to give them some very strong words! 

7.  What one thing did I need to hear?

I had never been one to suffer from depression or prolonged grief.  Being that I lost my precious baby, and was experiencing the most painful moment in my life, I thought that I would live the rest of my life feeling this way.  I just wanted to die.  I couldn’t imagine living the rest of my life in that frame of mind.  If someone would have simply told me, “It will get better.  You will learn to laugh again.  You will move on to live a happy and productive life,” it would have given me some hope.  As it was, I felt absolutely hopeless.  I needed to hear Job 8:21 where it says that God will again fill my mouth with laughter, and that one day, I would again speak shouts of joy.

8.  I learned that even though I couldn’t feel God’s presence or sense Him moving in my life, He was still there.  Job 23:8-10 talks of looking for God and not finding Him, but Job was confident that God still knew the way that Job took.  Job found comfort in knowing that even if he didn’t know where God was, God certainly knew where Job was. 

9.  I learned that it was OK to talk to God about my anger, even anger that was directed at Him.  He knew exactly what was in my heart, so it wasn’t like I could hide it from Him.  Acknowledging it was a major breakthrough for me because He didn’t turn away from me when I unleashed my anger on Him.  Heb. 4:16 tells us that He was touched with the feelings of our infirmities, so He not only knew that I would miscarry, He understood everything I would feel as I went through the process of grieving.  Another scripture that gave me comfort was Ps. 103:14 where it tells us that God knows our frame, that we are dust.  That let me know that He still accepted me, anger and all because He created me, and knew every single thing about me.

10.  What I needed most from God was for my baby’s short life to have a purpose.  Here is what I have seen over the years:

— God showed me through the loss that deep down, I really was ready to become a mommy.

— Father softened my heart to the pain that others face in life.  No other situation could have softened my hard heart the way that my miscarriage did.

— I can now cry with others as they face trials and loss.  I can also rejoice much easier with those who rejoice.

— I can be comfortable telling someone, “I don’t know what to say, but I will be praying for you.”  It’s OK to not have all the answers!

— I have learned to acknowledge those special days.  Ex:  A friend’s son died, so I made sure that I sent her a card on his birthday.  Another lady lost her mother earlier this year.  I made sure that she got a ‘thinking of you’ card from me on the Saturday before Mother’s Day.  One lady lost her husband very early this year.  Valentine’s Day was the first ‘holiday’ after his death, so I sent her a card just to let her know that I remembered her loss.  When my friend Judy lost her triplets, I took her two blue carnations and a pink one on the following Mother’s Day, and I hugged her and cried again over her loss.

My pastor always says that people don’t care how much you know until they know how much you care.  God can show you ways to minister to the hurting people in your life.

11.  What I’m still learning:

There will still be times of grieving, and I must allow myself those times.

The grieving won’t be completely gone until my body is transformed from mortal to immortal. 

My grieving usually hits me in the spring, which is the time when I was pregnant for Tiffany.  My grieving usually will come out through anger or feelings of hopelessness.  I have learned to ask the Lord to help me be sensitive to my emotions during those months.  One year when I was feeling exceptionally hopeless, I got before the Lord and asked Him what was wrong with me.  He gently said, “Do you remember what time of year it is?”  I wasn’t even consciously grieving.  Once I allowed myself the time to cry, I was fine. 

This year, I was dealing with a lot of anger, not realizing why, until I drove past the cemetery where any remains were buried.  (They did a D&C on me because there were still some remains inside of me, and that is what was buried at the cemetery.)  I began to cry, and it dawned on me the date was April 28th, the day I miscarried.

In closing, I must tell you that while I once believed my miscarriage was “Mission: Aborted,”  I now see it as “Mission: Accomplished.”  You see, my Father works ALL things together for good for those who are called according to HIS purpose.  (Rom. 8:28)  No, He certainly didn’t cause my miscarriage, but He did choose to use it for His glory.  I can honestly say that while it was the hardest thing I have ever gone through, it was also one of the BEST things I’ve ever gone through, and I wouldn’t trade it for the world!  Bless His Name!  He is so faithful, even when we are faithless.

© 2003, Stacy R. Miller

Mission: Aborted?


Mission: Aborted?

After having been asked several times to do a message addressing the pain of dealing with a miscarriage, I feel the prompting of the Lord to move in that area.  In sharing some of the feelings I experienced during that time, I hope to help those who have also experienced this kind of a loss.  For those who have never experienced this type of pain, I hope that by sharing my story, it will help you learn about some of the things which you should and shouldn’t say (or do) to others who are going through the grief of having lost their precious baby through miscarriage.

On April Fool’s Day, 1995, I took a pregnancy test.  My worst fears were confirmed.  I was definitely pregnant!  Since Dean and I weren’t wanting to have any children at that point, we walked around numbly for a few days, just trying to absorb the shock.  By the end of the following week, I had adjusted quite well to the change that was taking place.  After pondering on it, I came to the conclusion that God had a mission for us that would be much better than the plans that Dean and I had made.

About the time I started wearing maternity clothes, I began to have some spotting.  I prayed diligently for the Lord to protect this precious child.  In spite of all of my tears, my prayers, my quoting scripture over the situation, I miscarried one morning while at work.  My precious baby was dead.  My plans for this child were aborted by a miscarriage.  In my mind, the ‘mission’ that I felt God had for us was also ‘aborted.’

My feelings that morning were rather odd.  I was devastated, but at the same time, I couldn’t believe how much better I felt physically, once the miscarriage took place.  Being that it was my first pregnancy, I didn’t know that the dull ache on my lower right side wasn’t normal.  For several weeks, I had an awful pain with every step I took.  Now, I felt like my old self again because I couldn’t feel that pain any longer.  Yet, somehow, I knew that I would never really be ‘my old self’ again.

Mother’s Day was only one weekend away on the day that I miscarried.  I dreaded it terribly.  On the Saturday before Mother’s Day, I had left to run some errands.  When I came home, I opened up the refrigerator to find a sugar-free pie from my favorite pie shop.  Without speaking a word, my wonderful husband had touched my heart deeply.  I knew that he bought the pie for me for Mother’s Day to show me that he recognized me as a mother, all the same.  I may not be able to hold my baby in my arms while in my earthly vessel, but he still recognized that I was indeed, a mother.

One morning, while I was on the way to work, I was praying and pondering over the situation again.  It became very important to name my baby.  I decided on the name Tiffany Brooke.  Tiffany means ‘appearance of God,’ and I saw His appearance through the many cards I received in the days following the miscarriage.  Brooke is for all of the tears I have cried over losing her.

Being that I knew the exact date of conception, when that date came around every month, I was usually more emotional about the loss.  I felt the need to talk about it a lot.  God bless my sisters in Christ, and my family, for listening to me, and letting me talk my way through my grief!

I desperately needed a purpose for Tiffany’s life, short as it was.  One day, while at work, I began to see a purpose when one of the gentlemen from our pastoral care department at the hospital approached me.  I had given him a copy of the poem that I wrote to Tiffany.  He asked me if he could use my poem when ministering to people who go through a miscarriage.  I was thrilled by his request. 

During the time of intense grieving for me, I found out that a gal from church was expecting a baby right about the same time that Tiffany was due.  I was so angry.  She had walked away from God and had been living with a man outside of marriage, then came back to the Lord.  I had walked faithfully with God and had a stable marriage, yet she gets a baby, and I don’t.  It wasn’t fair!

A few months later, we find out that a family member who had an illegitimate child with one person now has an illegitimate child with another person.  We were never even told that they were expecting until the baby was here.  That was not only incredibly insensitive, but I felt that it was very rude for it to be hidden from the family.  Had we all been told early on, I would have known that they were expecting before I ever conceived.  That evening, I remember screaming out my frustrations to my husband, as well as to God.  Poor Dean.  He stood there, just looking at me.  He didn’t have a clue as to how to help me.  I had enough sense to tell him that he couldn’t help me; he just needed to let me scream. 

I was still trying to find a real sense of purpose for Tiffany’s life.  I knew that there had to be more of a purpose than just letting Pastoral Care use the poem that I wrote, but in the midst of all my questions, anger,  depression, and crying, I just wasn’t seeing any purpose.  In my eyes, it was just an aborted mission.  How depressing, and it was so unfair!

On top of all of this, I was desperate for another baby.  My womb felt so empty.  I remember telling Dean that it was like my womb was screaming at me, “Give me another chance!  I promise that I won’t let you down!”  My arms ached for a newborn baby.  Yet, every month, my ‘friend’ continued to visit me.

I was overwhelmed when I thought ahead to Christmas.  When I was fifteen years old, a good friend of mine died on Christmas Eve from injuries that resulted from a car wreck.  Seventeen years had passed since he died, yet I still struggled with the holiday season.  And now, I am having to deal with the fact that my very own baby was due right around Christmas.  How would I EVER deal with that?  The heaviness was overwhelming.

As I would try to read my Bible, I always seemed to read things that reminded me of my loss.  I would cry just about every time I read the Word, and quite honestly, I was tired of crying.  I’m not normally a depressed person, and so much crying was really beginning to wear on me.  One evening, I tried again to read my Bible, only to find that I was crying within just a few minutes time.  I laid my Bible aside and cried out to God in total frustration.  I told Him that I knew I should be reading, but I was tired of seeing things in there that just made me cry all over again.  I was just ready to give up.  Father spoke to me so clearly that night.  I will NEVER forget it.  Here is the conversation:

Father: So, are you ready to let go of the grief?

Me: No!  I can NEVER let go of my baby!

Father: Daughter, I’m not asking you to let go of your baby.  I’m asking if you are ready to let go of the grief and pain.

Me: Umm, you mean there’s a difference?

Father: Oh yes, my child.  Just because you let go of the pain, and allow me to heal the deep grief inside of you, doesn’t mean that you are letting go of your baby.

Me: Do you mean that I can actually live a full and joyful life again?

Father:  (I think He was chuckling by this point.)  You can have the memories of your pregnancy and move on to live a very joy-filled life.  Your baby will always live on in your heart, but without such intense pain.

Me: Oh yes!  Lord, here is my grief.  I’m tired of grieving.  I want to move on in my life!

Father: OK, Daughter, now I am free to heal your grieving heart. 

Me: Ummm, Lord?

Father: Yes, child, what is it?

Me: Why is it that in all of these months that I haven’t been reading the Word, Satan has never come to me, condemning me for my lack of faithfulness in reading the Word?

Father: Daughter, don’t you remember?  I promised to never put more on you than you could bear.  I have been hiding you under the shadow of my wings this whole time.  I have been protecting you from the onslaught of the enemy because I knew that you couldn’t bear his vicious attacks right now.

Me:  WOW!  Lord, that is awesome!  All this time, you have held me safe, and I didn’t even realize it.  Thank you for being so good to me.

Father: You are welcome.

Amazingly, within two days, all of the intense grief was gone.  I had a heart, full of joy, and a very contented spirit.  Within two weeks, I was pregnant with Rachel….  And all that dread about Christmas?  Well, one thing I had prayed for was to be pregnant, and in maternity clothes before Christmas, so it wasn’t even an issue.  God answered my prayer, but before He did, He made sure that I knew it was HIM alone who cure me from intense grief.  I had been thinking that another baby would cure me of my grieving.  That was a lot of responsibility to put upon an unborn child!  God clearly showed me that HE alone was the source for taking away my grief.  After all, He was the one who bore my griefs and sorrows. (Is. 53)

So, did I still view my miscarriage as “Mission: Aborted?”  Not on your life!  Through my miscarriage and the subsequent grieving time, I learned so much about God.  No other circumstance could have taught me in the way that the miscarriage did.  I quickly began to view it as “Mission: Accomplished.”

© 2003, Stacy R. Miller