Carry each other’s burdens, and in this way, you will fulfill the law of Christ.
I knew something was wrong before I started bleeding. I hadn’t felt as “pregnant” as I did the previous two times, but I had no choice but to wait and see. When the spotting started, I knew it was the beginning of the end.
We hadn’t told anyone our good news yet, so it felt odd to tell them our bad news. Our other children were too young to understand why mama was sad or tired. I felt bad enough to not want to do anything but good enough to plug on.
Sitting on the bench outside of my daughter’s preschool, I looked at the mom beside me and said, “I’m miscarrying.” Why I told her, I still don’t know. She looked back at me with understanding eyes and said, “I lost a baby last year. We were almost to term.”
Over time, I told our family and friends, but Betsy’s reaction on the bench that day made me feel seen and understood. We’re still friends, the kind that cut right through the fluff to what’s really important. If you start with “raw,” I guess there’s no backpedaling.
People tell me hard things from time to time. It’s so tempting to fill the space with words and stories about a similar thing happening and it all working out. While a positive comment never hurts, an empathetic nod and listening ear is the most helpful.
We really can’t understand someone else’s loss, but we can offer our presence. We can sit with them, help them meet a physical need or encourage them that there will be a better day. We can remind them that we see them and more importantly, God sees them.
Do you know someone who’s hurting? Write his or her name somewhere to remind you to pray for them. Then ask God how you can offer support and comfort.
God, thank You that You never leave me, even in the darkest hours. Help me cling to You in those days and offer comfort to others when they need it.