Out of control

There are moments when I think I’m okay. I’m able to speak about the logistics of this loss without choking up—or I’m able to hold entire conversations about something completely different. I think that maybe I’m entering a new stage of grief.

And then the weight comes crashing down around me, and I can’t stand under the pressure. It is hard to know what I should be doing now. Decisions of waiting or scheduling surgery linger, and there is no real guidance. I’ve been told I’m allowed to wait as long as there are no signs of infection. But there is no predicting when that point may be. I long for a natural labor. I want to hold my tiny Avelyn in the palm of my hand, but there is no promise of that. No sure sign that my body will act as it should.

I search diligently for signs of blood. I stop and pay attention to my body, studying to see if I feel cramps or tightening. They come throughout the day, but always too slight. Sometimes I’m not sure whether it is truly my uterus or simply psychological. Can you feel cramping simply because you wish to?

I learn over and over again that we don’t really have any control in life. But after so much has been taken away, I long for the ability to control this—to dictate to my body that it can and must begin labor. It, of course, does not listen. Instead it remains eerily silent.

Author’s note: This is the sixth in a series on pregnancy loss/miscarriage. Read the first post, “First ultrasound,” here.



Filed under miscarriage

7 responses to “Out of control

  1. Lisa Beyer

    Dear Jennifer,
    I have known Allyn since he was a little boy–he and my brother were good friends elementary through high school. I have been reading your blog as Mrs. Allyne shares it on facebook. I have been following because I have been in your shoes and understand much of what you are going through.

    Nine years ago, my husband and I lost our first baby and found out through out first ultrasound. I was just 24 years old and didn’t even really know much about ultrasounds. I saw the baby and my husband and I smiled & pointed at the tiny body, but then my doctor grew quiet and seconds later told us that he didn’t see a heartbeat. Devastation and disbelief are two words to describe what we felt at that moment. Then numbness and grief came. Just like you, I was trying to do everything right during my pregnancy. I had gained some weight and had started wearing maternity clothes—LOVED that I was starting to “show”. After we got home, I just didn’t know what I would do. I felt lost and sad and confused and hopeless. I had been a Christian for as long as I could remember, but I felt alone. It was just shock, I think. My husband took it even harder than I did. I had never seen him cry like he did that day. We wondered why God would take our baby and I prayed that Jesus would somehow show me.

    A couple of days went by and we had visitors, flowers, gifts…all the things that people do when they are trying to show you how sorry they feel for what you are going through. I was the first in my family to ever miscarry, the first of my friends to be married and pregnant, so I didn’t really have anyone to help me get through it who had some experience….all I had was Jesus to turn to. We ended up having a D&C–my doctor’s recommendation. I remember after the surgery one day, I was in the bath tub and I just started to cry. I looked at my belly and longed to be pregnant again. We didn’t name our baby or feel strongly one way or the other that it was a boy or girl. He or she was just gone and I felt empty inside. It was a feeling that I had never ever experienced and one that I didn’t think I would ever get over.

    I prayed for peace. Over and over…I prayed for peace. I knew that I would not understand, so I didn’t even try. I just wanted Jesus to carry me through this–I didn’t want to hold on anymore. I wanted to let it go–not in the sense of forgetting about the baby and what had happened–but I wanted to find joy in the situation because even though it turned out not how I would have planned, I knew that God’s will for my life was nothing but Good.

    About 2 months later, on Christmas Eve morning, I found out that I was pregnant again. We were a little nervous, but this time, I felt that Jesus was holding me. It was different. I had a baby girl on August 29, 2005, and I realized why we lost our first baby. Since then, we have had 3 more children and we are now expecting our 5th. We believe that children are a blessing and want to have as many as He wants us give us.

    I tell you the above paragraph because I want you to know that it was the first miscarriage that led us in the direction we are in now. Not all at once–it was gradual. We were true believers, but did not allow God to have control over all things in our life. The experiences in our early marriage molded us into who we are today–I don’t know that we would be where we are right now if they had not taken place. Our love for Jesus has grown deeper and deeper since that time–and because of it— & I very thankful for what we went through because of how it deepened our relationship with each other and with Him.

    Everyone’s situation is so different and obviously, you and Allyn are not me and my husband, but we are alike in the fact that we know that it is Jesus who is in control. I pray that you will soon feel peace, happiness, and joy because of your situation, not despite it. I promise that soon, you will smile again.

    Lisa Beyer
    (Allyn would know me as Ben’s sister, Lisa Thigpen)

    • Thanks, Lisa. I’m sorry for your loss, as well. I don’t believe that God took our Avelyn or willed her death, but I do believe that God is mourning with us and holding us as we walk through the grief.

  2. I have never gone thru what you are experiencing but reading this and feeling your pain thru your words is more then enough. I pray that by giving birth to your baby girl will bring peace to you and your husband..I am so sorry you have had to go thru this…Love & prayers

  3. Mardi


    I am so sorry for this long and tortuous road. You are in my prayers.

  4. Pingback: Taboo Topics: Losing a baby – meet Jennifer and Allyn Harris Dault | Irresistibly Fish

  5. Debra Bender


    I’ve never had children so I have no clue. But, I have a little sister, Holly Ann, was born too early when I was 10 (1959 – something wrong with her lungs – lived only a couple hours – tiny casket buried next to her Grandma and Grandpa Bender) and I watched my Mom grieve. I don’t think she ever got over that loss. It was horrible, awful, painful to hear Mom cry in bed at night; Dad would come to the door of our room and say, “Try not to worry. Mom just misses the baby.” I remember wondering, in my 10-year-old mind, how God could be so mean to take a baby from a family who wanted her so much. My youngest brother was born four years later, an event we all shared as soon as Mom found out she was pregnant – everything from everyone being very careful to do everything we could to help Mom to sitting around the dinner table democratically discussing baby names! I remember my 8th grade graduation, a few weeks before Mom’s due date, being almost frantic with worry that she insisted on going, determined to hear some silly speech I had to make. He was born about three weeks later, the most beautiful baby I’d ever seen and I love him to this day with all my heart. But I’ll never forget Holly Ann. She’d be 53 this year. December 7. I can’t imagine what mothers go through. This is what a big sister remembers.

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