Clinging to Hope through Loss

Submitted Anonymously

In February of 2018, I saw the two lines on the pregnancy test. My husband and I were very much open to life as we practiced Natural Family Planning and knew there was a chance we were pregnant. We were overjoyed and anxious about the positive test result! I called my doctor and went in the next day to confirm pregnancy. She confirmed pregnancy and checked my progesterone levels as we knew I had mild PCOS (polycystic ovarian syndrome).

The next day, my doctor called to tell us my progesterone levels were VERY low, and I needed progesterone suppositories as well as injections right away to try to bring my levels up. Since this was my first pregnancy, I did not know much of what this all meant, but we were able to get the medication quickly. As our excitement grew, we were able tell my husband’s family the news within a week and scheduled an ultrasound for the week after.

We knew it was still early when we went to the ultrasound, probably at only about seven to eight weeks, but we should have been able to see the gestational sac, heartbeat, and get a measurement of exactly how far along I was. Unfortunately, as we watched the technician scan side-to-side, we did not see a gestational sac or hear a heartbeat. The technician told us that it could just be a little too early, that she would pass along the pictures to our doctor, and we were scheduled to come back in two weeks. We left the doctor’s office a bit distraught, but still hopeful that we would see our little baby next time.

Shortly after, as we traveled to see my family, our doctor called. She was concerned about my progesterone levels again - they retested after the ultrasound - and they were not rising, as well the fact that we did not see anything on the ultrasound. She tried to sound hopeful, but I could tell hope was diminishing.  As my husband and I cried in the car, we tried to remain hopeful. We got to my parents and told them the news, but also that we did not see anything on the ultrasound. We were able to share our raw and real emotions with them, but remained hopeful in whatever was God’s plan.

The days went by slowly, I continued my progesterone injections, and took care of myself. At our next ultrasound, the technician was still unable to see anything. We walked from the ultrasound room to a regular doctor’s room and waited for our doctor to talk to us. We sat there and cried. By now, we were over a month from the original positive test that gave us so much joy and light. We knew our baby existed from the day he or she was conceived. We loved our baby. We still love our baby.

My body naturally miscarried a few days later. My husband stood with me through the pain and suffering as we experienced it together. The miscarriage happened during Holy Week, and my husband reached out to a priest to help us remember this life that was once inside of me. We were able to have an intimate ceremony with just the three of us on Good Friday. As the priest talked with us, he explained that it was providential that we were able to celebrate this life on Good Friday because, as Jesus’ death brought suffering but so much joy and peace, this life had brought us suffering but also joy and peace in knowing that God would bring us through it.

Although some days, I still do not understand why we had a miscarriage, I know that God had a plan through it all. My husband and I decided to name that baby Grace even though we did not know the gender. We felt that it was a girl and know that God was able to give us His grace through the time that we had with the baby and all of the time after.

Less than a year later, I saw two lines on another pregnancy test. Excited to show my husband when he got home from work, I walked around the house in disbelief that I was seeing them again. I always wondered if we would be able to get pregnant again or if it would end in another miscarriage. I showed my husband the test; we cried, hugged, and cried some more. We were SO excited for this little life but also scared that we could have another miscarriage. We turned all of our prayers to the Lord by calling on Our Lady of Guadalupe, patroness of the unborn, and knew that we would leave it all up to Him.

Nine months later, we had our beautiful baby girl. God gave us hope and strength throughout our miscarriage and then pregnancy of our daughter. He helped us to cling to Him to make Him the center of everything. We know that our daughter and, God-willing, future children will know about baby Grace because she was a life inside of me and will not be forgotten. We know that she is watching over us as we continue to go through this beautiful life.

Two White Stones

By Ali Cramblit

I have two white stones with a heart engraved on top. That’s all I have of my babies in heaven. I have no pictures, no sonograms, no remembrance of a heartbeat. Just two white stones that sit next to photos of the two babies I have held and are growing and thriving today. 

My husband and I conceived shortly after we were married in March of 2017. We were shocked, but very excited. This pregnancy did not develop, and it ended at 12 weeks. We conceived again in September. This time we ended up with a healthy baby boy in July 2018. Fast forward six months and I find out we’ve conceived again. What a shocker this was. Our son was wearing a big brother shirt and he could barely sit up on his own. We were excited and ready to embrace another life. Sadly, this pregnancy ended with a miscarriage at 10 weeks in March 2019. In August of 2019 we conceived another baby boy who was born in June 2020.

Needless to say, our journey to a family of four has had its ups and downs. I stated that we had nothing to remember our lost babies by but two little white stones. This is because both of my miscarriages were considered blighted ova (an empty womb in a sense). Together with God, we conceived a baby, but the dear little ones didn’t develop past a fertilized egg. However, my body continued to perceive that I was pregnant. This led to eight weeks of thinking I was pregnant to only see an empty womb in a sonogram. Then it led to several more weeks for my body to realize no person was growing inside me. The waiting was horribly long. 

One afternoon in mid-July 2017 after our first miscarriage I was floating in the water at my parents’ lake house by myself. I was really reflecting hard on the loss and it really had me down. I started talking to God while I was floating on the water. I had lots of questions for him and was very down and confused. I was nervous for the future and scared we would never become parents. After a while, I had a really clear thought come to mind. I was never meant to meet that baby on Earth because he/she was meant for something else. He was meant to go before us and meet us in heaven. It was a beautiful comforting thought to have. It brought me much peace in the coming months and then again after our next miscarriage. I have hope and I pray that God has sent these souls before me as an intercessor for our family. God sure sent me a strong message that day while I sat on the lake. 

The loss of a child at any point in their life brings unimaginable pain to the parents. Not having any memories with a child is hard. The pain of seeing that empty womb is not a memory I want to hold on to. So, I grasp on to those two white stones because that’s all I have. I hold onto my sons and remember how God has blessed us with them and allowed us to be their parents. I also have the thought that the two babies my husband and I created with God, might be Saints making way for us on Earth until we get to join them in Heaven one day. 

Emmanuel's Story

By Matthew Engesser

 “It feels like God is crying with us,” I told my wife on our drive through a gentle rain to the hospital. The rest of the world seemed to be going on around us as if it were just another morning, but it was far from that for us. Our eyes were filled with tears, because it was the day we were going to the hospital to deliver our baby. Our sadness was that we knew our baby’s heart was no longer beating and that only his tiny body remained. Funny how your life can be turned upside down when you least expect it.

My wife, Katie and I were high school sweethearts and always wanted a big family, so when we struggled to conceive our first child, it was heart-breaking.  Eventually God did bless us with two beautiful children!  We have always been open to life, so one morning when our youngest was in pre-k, Katie casually shared that she could be pregnant, I cautioned her to not get excited as the odds were not good given our history.  Later that day my phone buzzed during a work meeting. Katie had taken our daughter, Annabelle, to the zoo, so I assumed she was sending me a picture of Annabelle with some monkeys. Was I surprised to see a picture of a positive pregnancy test! I quickly found a quiet space to call home. We were both so elated!

This pregnancy did not start out easily.  There was some bleeding and fear in the beginning, but our doctor assured us that things were looking good, so at the 12-week mark we joyfully shared our excitement with our children!  They could not wait to have a baby sibling!

We had no worries as we prepared for our 16-week appointment.  Katie had even felt our baby do a big summersault move days before. Then tragedy struck.  Devastation crept in as first our doctor and then the sonographer could not locate a heartbeat. We were engulfed in grief as we sat there looking at the ultrasound image of our motionless baby. I held Katie and tried to be strong and comforting, but the truth is we both were overwhelmed with pain and sadness. All the lost moments with this precious baby--all the dreams and memories that were never to come. 

Back at home we now faced helping our children navigate this shattering loss. I told them God always hears our prayers, but sometimes does not give us what we ask for. Isaiah, my 6-year-old son, cried for the next 10 minutes saying he did not want our baby to die. Our four-year-old daughter however, did not cry despite previously being the one more outwardly excited. Still she had tears in her eyes and seemed so mature, telling us that our baby was in heaven now.  I knew she was also hurting inside and I tried to comfort and hold them both. This was one of the hardest things I have ever had to do.

That night I told our children a bedtime story about two caterpillars who were excited that a new caterpillar was going to join their family. They wanted to make paintings and play soccer with this new caterpillar who was wrapped in a cocoon.  Then one day the cocoon was empty, and they were very sad. Looking up they saw a beautiful butterfly soaring overhead who told them he was the caterpillar from the cocoon but now he had wings. He assured them they would be together someday, but for now he would always be flying over them. And even if they could not see him, they could still talk anytime they wanted.

It was a dark next couple days as we waited to be induced and deliver our baby-our Emmanuel.  Katie’s friend was scheduled to have her baby the same week at the same hospital, and my wife was determined to not have both events on the same day.  We did want to deliver our baby, however, and give him a proper resting place.  The waiting was hard and I so wished I could take away Katie’s pain. Childbirth is painful and scary enough, but to anticipate and go through it knowing that in the end you will be holding a lifeless body and have to say goodbye is an unbearably cruel reality.

My emotions came to a head one night during my regular Adoration hour.  I had some choice words for Jesus as I knelt there before Him. “My baby and wife don’t deserve this and I don’t understand this… You’re wrong!” I told him. I was sad and frustrated and felt alone. Then I randomly opened up a book with writings from the diaries and visions of Saint Faustina and read the following:

“...At the moment of apparent absolute destruction, my mission, now no longer hindered by anything, will begin.… although many persons will oppose it, nothing will change God's will. (1388)

He allows certain difficulties precisely for our merit, so that our fidelity might be clearly manifest. And through this, I have been given strength for suffering and self-denial. (1409)

So today I submit myself completely and with loving consent to Your holy will, O Lord, and to Your most wise decrees... though at times I neither understand nor fathom them. (1450) “

I knew what Jesus was telling me through these words. He was saying, “Trust me,” and I wanted to, but it is not easy when everything feels so wrong. At the time I certainly did not have that “complete” consent to His will, but prayed that God would give me and my family the grace to get there.

It helped knowing that we had people praying for and supporting us. Isaiah’s kindergarten classmates at St Hubert Catholic School made us letters with pictures, telling us they were praying for our baby and family.  Fr. Tollefson recommended a funeral home, and we arranged a burial service in our church’s cemetery.

Finally, we were making the drive to the hospital to deliver our baby. I do not know how Katie got through this day but she was amazing and will always be my hero. When our son greeted the world in silence, we took some time to admire his perfection--God’s perfection.  So many emotions came over me. I felt relieved that Katie was physically through the worst part of this experience, excited that we were now seeing our little child who had become such a huge part of our lives, and experienced immense sadness knowing that our child was gone along with so many dreams.

Our baby looked so innocent and tiny all curled up. Katie’s water never broke, so the sack the baby was in lay in front of us offering a surreal look into life before birth. Yes, we had seen ultrasound pictures and artist renderings, but to physically see our baby in this transparent protective ball was an amazing experience. I cut the tiny cord and we saw that our baby was a boy. We held our little son’s body and touched his perfect fingers. His mouth had a little smile that reminded me of our other children. Our baby was a perfect little person. I did not know how I would feel holding him, but when I did I broke down and sobbed. Part of us was gone and I was not ready to say goodbye.

There was a certain emptiness as we got back in our car. The rain was still falling and we said very little on the way home. When we were just a few minutes from our house, the rain let up and we saw a faint rainbow ahead of us. It was a little sign that meant so much. It was like our baby boy was trying to comfort us in our grief and to let us know that he was all right and that we would be too.

The next day, surrounded by our closest family, we buried our sweet baby in the infant section of the St. Hubert Cemetery.  It brings us comfort to be able to visit a physical place, to feel close to him and to remember.  As crushing an experience as this was for us, having our Emmanuel for even a short time was a blessing.  He taught us so much about life and how we all need to live each day to the fullest.  He taught our children about a powerful, unconditional love--the kind a family can only experience when journeying through a deep grief together.

Through our faith, we know this separation is only temporary and that brings much comfort!  Emmanuel is forever in our hearts until we meet again.