Hope after a Miscarriage: Sarah's Story

By Sarah Rose

"Think of something pleasant," said the anesthesiologist just before surgery, "Because whatever you're thinking about before you go under is probably what you'll dream about." I was having a hard time thinking of anything other than the 11-week old baby I had just miscarried, but the fear of nightmares seemed overwhelming in the moment. Feverishly, I sought to fix my mind on something positive.

My first attempt was to imagine my two happy children, my 5-year-old son and 2-year-old daughter…to think of them playing happily on the playground with the soft sun filtering down through the leaves. To see them laughing while I pushed them on the swings. But the vision was not allowed to linger. Quickly, pictures of a mean mommy, of screaming toddlers, of fighting children came surging forward. They came so quickly that they overtook the pleasant images I was trying to hold on to. Desperately, I searched for something else I could concentrate on…something perfect and wholly beautiful.

I thought of my honeymoon. I imagined the white beaches and shady palms and pictured my husband and I holding hands while staring out at a perfect blue sea and sky. I felt the warm air on my skin. I recalled our new love for one another. And then, just as quickly I remembered the fight we had when he wouldn't dance with me and the memory of that single incident seemed to overshadow the entire picture so that I was afraid to dwell on that either.

Then I became afraid. What could possibly be more pleasant or more beautiful than my children or my husband? They were my true joy in life. If I could not think of them without having negative thoughts lurking in the shadows, then there was nothing. In my frail emotional state, I felt sure that I would not survive the surgery. The nightmares alone would kill me.

Then I remembered to pray. It was just a simple prayer…something to the effect of "God help me." And then, with the same speed that previous thoughts followed, peace came to me along with a scripture verse I had written down a few days prior: "Every good thing given and every perfect gift is from above, coming down from the Father of lights, with whom there is no variation or shifting shadow."

Finally, my mind was calm.

Of course! What could be more pleasant than God? What could possibly be more perfect? Only God is pure light and beauty. Throughout the years He has proven to me that I can trust Him with all things. He has carried me through the sorrows of life and rewarded my deepest longings in ways I never thought possible. He is faithful and He never changes. I can dwell on Him and be sure that no shadows will come.

As I lay beneath two massive operating lights with nurses and O.R. staff bustling about me, I fixed my thoughts on God and those words written in the Bible. Within seconds I drifted into the most restful sleep I've ever had, and when I awoke felt as if the surgery had restored my soul as well.

Although the hours and days following my time in the hospital have been laced with sorrow and sadness, I continue to dwell on that verse of scripture that gave me peace in the operating room. The beginning of that verse, "Every good and perfect gift comes from the Father of lights…." reminds me of my son, whose name means, "gift from above." I realize that everything I have - everything good in my life, is a gift from God.. I look at my husband and my children and I am grateful. Yes, I still grieve with deep sadness over the loss of my unborn child, and yet that has made me more aware and more sensitive to the good things in life. And I can only believe that in the future, this loss too, will bear the mark of a loving and caring God.

God is good and He is the giver of good gifts.


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Judy Rushfeldt, Publisher


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