Guest column
by Jordyn Grasz, Member of Holy Family Parish in Palisade
There’s no bereavement for a miscarriage.
All losses are hard, and I am not here to say one loss is harder than another. I have several friends who lost siblings at much too young an age; I still miss my grandpa who passed away more than 10 years ago; and my husband lost his mom when he was a freshman in college. Even as I write this, a friend of mine posted about how she won’t be able to have kids because of chemo and radiation – a different kind of tough loss.
But, there’s no bereavement granted for a miscarriage. There’s no funeral or prayer service. The loss could physically be occurring in the middle of everyday life, in the middle of a crowd, in the middle of a graduation ceremony, without anyone other than the mother knowing it’s happening.
Even with a strong support system, a strong faith and lots of self-confidence, miscarrying is hard and makes you question yourself, the world and God. Even with family and friends offering words of comfort and prayers, the hurt and loneliness that come with miscarrying is heavy.
The hurt is felt again anytime someone asks, “Time for another?” in reference to your daughter. It hurts all over when someone posts about expecting a new baby. It hurts every month when a new reminder comes that you aren’t pregnant.
The miscarriage can make you want to stop trying for more kids – to avoid this pain again – and makes you want to shut off the world, because people will never understand your pain and longing; or to stop turning to God, because why would He cause this to happen?
Amid my hurt, I heard a homily from Father Mike Schmitz regarding the story in 2 Kings, Chapter 4. In this story, a mother is granted the gift of a son without asking God for such a blessing. She is happy with her child, as a parent would be, but feels devastating loss when her son dies at a young age. She goes to the prophet Elisha and, “She said, ‘Did I ask my lord for a son? Did I not say, ‘Do not mislead me’?’” Essentially asking, why did you cause me this pain when I didn’t even ask for the gift?
Father Mike summarized his homily talking about the reason we should be open to experiencing these pains and these losses and why it’s important to ask for the gifts and blessings.
Without allowing ourselves to feel the pain of grief, we don’t allow ourselves to feel the joy of love. All love is a form of sacrifice, and by opening ourselves up to the possibility of love, the possibility of gifts from God, the possibility of joy, we are also opening ourselves up to the sorrow that may come along with that love, gift, joy because, ultimately, all gifts in this life will come to an end.
But with these losses, we have hope because of what’s to come. All good things in this life will come to an end.
As Christians, we do believe in Heaven after this world, so all those loved ones we’ve lost, we have the hope of seeing again someday. We have hope that despite suffering grief of missing all those we love—even those we never met—we can and will see them again at the end of time.
There really are no real words to ease the pain of loss and suffering. No words will mend the torn heart, and no words will bring back what was lost, but I write with the hope that I can use my pain to walk with others through their suffering in a small way.
So my prayer, for anyone suffering – whether that’s through a miscarriage, through the loss of a sibling/parent/friend, or loss of your future plans – and selfishly for myself, is for the strength to carry through all the suffering and pain that happens in this life, as that means there was also amazing love in this life that will carry through into the next when all suffering ends.
