If you’ve been reading this series of blogs, so far we’ve covered the need to accept that going through a miscarriage is an emotional challenge for the father as well as the mother; we’ve looked at how we can support our wives through the difficult early days and we’ve discussed coping strategies for dealing with grief. But today I want to leave you with hope—and that phrase is deliberate. I don’t want to GIVE you hope, for the hope is already there. I just want to point you in its direction.
Many couples hunger for a child of their own, and I am very conscious that for some, perhaps someone who is reading this now, this may not be possible. You may have had your hopes dashed repeatedly, been through the cost and stress of medical treatment, prayed fervently with tears, and yet still not had those prayers answered as you had hoped.
So I hope you will forgive me if I share what happened next—not because I want to promise you that “God will give you what you want”—he may not. But because I want to point you to a better hope.
The man who started writing this series of blog posts is not the same man today. Earlier this year my wife and I welcomed our daughter into the world. Going through a miscarriage didn’t make our second pregnancy any easier, and it would be untrue to say everything went smoothly second time around. Emily was born two months early by emergency C-section, and spent a further two months in hospital with health complications. There was one very scary 24-hour period when I was called to her bedside, unsure if she was going to make it through the night. But as I write this, she is now a 7-month-old, cheeky, smiling little lady who shows no ill effects from her rough start in life.
One of the fears lots of couples harbour after a miscarriage is about fertility in the future: Will we ever be able to have a healthy baby? If that’s you, I am not about to tell you that having a baby is the answer to the pain, frustration, confusion and emotional hurt of a miscarriage. My wife and I still think about our “Alex”—the baby we miscarried— and the experience is still a very painful memory.
But it is true that without Emily (and a very good editor) I wouldn’t have been able to emotionally process and complete this series of articles. There were times I just needed to hold my daughter and thank the Lord for the good gifts he has provided. But none of that makes it all better.
No, the hope that Emily inspires in me is because she’s shown me a spiritual truth that brings me great comfort—and it’s a spiritual truth that can bring you great comfort, too.
You see, I love my daughter. I cannot possibly put into words how much I love her! I would lay down my life for her without a moment’s hesitation, and every virus, cold, difficulty she has faced breaks my heart as her Father. I love her, not because she has improved my life, or because I am now very popular when walking round the shops, or because of anything she has done. I love her because she is my child.
Those of us the world calls “Christians” are adopted children of God.
Gentlemen, you have a Father who loves you infinitely more than I love my Emily—and his love for you is perfect, while mine is tainted by sin. God the Father gave his one and only son as a sacrifice for your sin and has given Christ’s righteousness to those who have turned from their sin and put their faith in Christ. Those of us the world calls “Christians” are adopted children of God.
Paul writes to the Philippian Church:
"And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus." (Philippians 4 v 7)
Wherever we are, whatever has happened, struggling or rejoicing, we have a heavenly Father who loves us. Sometimes, in the most painful moments following our miscarriage, I would “have a cup of tea” with the Lord. I remember at the time worrying it might be a little irreverent—but as children of God, that level of intimacy with him is open to us. When my emotions were so raw and I was hurting, I found deliberately making a cup of tea and sitting in the living room to sit and chat with God was extremely helpful. I don’t know if I was expecting him to take the pain away, but he took me through it. Do not neglect the wonderful privilege of prayer. Our Father loves us, and his peace surpasses all understanding.
Finally, if you’re reading this and you know you’re not a believer in Jesus, this offer is open to you too. God offers you the greatest of peace, the forgiveness of your sin. Every human being is naturally bent to rebel against God, our loving creator, and seek to set ourselves up as God in his place. Before you seek emotional peace, seek peace with God, and become a loved child or our loving heavenly father.
Read the rest of the Men and Miscarriage series: