The following article is an extract from my recently released book Elles ont vu la fidélité de Dieu: 16 femmes témoignent (They Saw God’s Faithfulness: 16 Women Testify).
Elles ont vu la fidélité de Dieu: 16 femmes témoignent gathers the testimonies of sisters in Christ from different generations, ethnicities and geographical locations. What they have in common is faith in the same Savior and Lord. This alone gives them hope amidst the trials they describe in this book. Whether enduring the loss of a husband or an infant, supporting a husband with cancer or an autistic child, these women’s stories captivate the reader with their transparency and sincerity. Life is hard, and the authors don’t deny it. They simply view their trials through the prism of the cross and resurrection of Jesus Christ. In so doing, they find peace. May their testimonies serve the Church of Christ as we suffer together on this side of eternity. The following testimony is my own, one of the 16 in the book.
Why the Lord chooses that we not see the faces of some of our children before they see the face of God, I do not know.
Barrett Craig (a lifelong friend)
Karine’s screams echoed through the paper-thin walls separating our apartments. I wondered what could have provoked such a visceral cry from my neighbour, usually so sweet and composed. I didn’t have to wait long to find out, as she and her partner Pascal were supposed to have dinner with us that evening. Once the meal was over, the conversation took a serious turn. Karine turned to Pascal and asked: “Should I tell them?” She started to cry, and I understood immediately. “I had a miscarriage early this morning,” she said. “Since you’ve had two miscarriages yourself, we thought you might be able to help us get through this.”
That evening, my husband Dan and I spoke candidly of the physical symptoms I had experienced both times: intense cramping, weeks of bleeding, hormonal imbalance, and more. And we also spoke of the whirlwind of emotions we had both cycled through: sorrow, confusion, anger, jealousy, fear, and more. But most importantly of all, we shared the comfort and hope of the gospel that had carried us through the valley of the shadow of death. And as we did, the words of 2 Corinthians 1:3-4 echoed in my mind,
Blessed is the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of mercies and God of all comfort, who comforts us in all our troubles so that we may be able to comfort those experiencing any trouble with the comfort with which we ourselves are comforted by God.
The Internet Fairy-Tale Meeting
Dan and I met in 2004 on a site for Christian singles. Internet dating, which today seems common enough, was a strange choice for two seminary graduates heading into cross-cultural vocational ministry. Yet the Lord’s providential hand was undeniable in bringing us together. I had committed my life to missions in Africa while on a trip to Senegal at age 18. In the decade that followed, I hadn’t met a single man with the same calling. So, I gave online dating a chance and stumbled upon the profile of a guy who was preparing to be a missionary in Africa. As we began chatting, I discovered that not only was he heading for Africa, but specifically to Senegal. And what’s more, he was planning to serve in theological education, the very field in which I longed to use my own gifts and training.
The Happy Newlyweds
Within a year, Dan Thornton and I married in the same country church where he had been baptized. We spent our first year of marriage raising support while living on the church property in a log cabin built in the 1850s. Having met and married rather quickly, we both agreed to enjoy our first year together as a couple before attempting to have children. But given that we were both in our thirties, we knew my biological clock was ticking. So, one year, almost to the date, we began trying to have a baby.
My First Pregnancy
We were now living in Charlesbourg, Québec, where Dan was studying at the University of Laval’s French language program. I already spoke French fluently. So, I dedicated myself to learning to cook and bake from scratch. I lacked such skills, and they would be essential on the mission field! Within weeks, I was pregnant with our first child. We broadcast the news to family and friends near and far. Despite the nausea and malaise that set in, I set about educating myself on all things related to pregnancy and motherhood.
I soon got a hold of the bestselling What to Expect When You’re Expecting. I read it from cover to cover. At the same time, I continued my normal routine of a healthy diet and exercise. And, as for baby gear, I tried to borrow much or to make do without. We didn’t have the luxury of checking a crib, baby bath, or playpen on our outgoing flight to Senegal.
The Miscarriage We Never Expected
As I rounded the corner of my first trimester, I looked forward to relief from constant morning sickness (which I had read normally subsided after the first three months). Then, late one Sunday night, excruciating abdominal cramps roused me from sleep. I woke my husband, who drew a bath for me as I lay moaning in the fetal position. I had battled intense menstrual cramps my entire life, but the pain I was experiencing surpassed anything I’d ever felt.
Before I could slip into the warm water, any doubt that I might be miscarrying vanished as I began hemorrhaging severely. Dan and I didn’t know what to do. We thought we should make haste for the hospital. But I was in too much pain to move. Was there any point, I wondered? Could any baby survive in the womb when I’d lost this much blood?
“These Chairs are for New Fathers”
As the sun’s rays broke through the darkness of our apartment, we mustered the strength to get dressed and head to the hospital. Once we were triaged, a nurse led us to an exam room and shut a curtain around us for privacy. Dan took a seat beside me in a small rocking chair. Pale with exhaustion, my husband’s tear-stained face mirrored my own. My loss was his. The fact that his body hadn’t carried our child made it no less so.
While we waited for a doctor to examine me, an orderly pulled back the curtain and said, “Sir, I’m going to need the chair. These are for new fathers.” The words he spoke were like arrows shot straight into Dan’s heart. Of course, this hospital employee had no way of knowing we had just lost a child. But the irony did not escape us. Dan stood or sat awkwardly on the edge of my bed until the doctor came to examine me.
What No One Prepared Us For
I had three choices, the doctor told me: To have a D&C, to take a vaginal suppository to slow down the bleeding, or to do nothing. I was unfamiliar with what a dilation & curettage was, but it sounded invasive. Doing nothing didn’t appeal to me, either, as I was still bleeding heavily. So, I opted for the second option.
I should add that as an American, I was accustomed to paying for every Band-Aid and stitch. So, the idea of a D&C sounded not only invasive but also expensive. (And I wasn’t completely off base. A quick Google search reveals that today, in the U.S., an insured person will pay close to $5,000 for a D&C and $10,000 if they are not insured).
Only later did I learn that Canadian socialized medicine would have covered me for whatever procedure I elected. Not only that, but a D&C is a simple, low-risk procedure that would’ve prevented me from hemorrhaging for the following month. But no one explained this to me. This turned out to be one of the many decisions I made in ignorance for an event no one had prepared me for.
A Gap in the Literature
The thing is, few of us go into our first pregnancy expecting it to end this way. Most women want to think positive thoughts during their first trimester. They’re told that worrying could increase stress levels and lead to the very thing they fear the most. To be clear, I don’t suggest obsessing about the worst. I do, however, recommend being prepared. Ignorance doesn’t do a couple any favours. It can lead to greater fear and pain when the worst does befall them. After all, one in four pregnancies ends in miscarriage. It’s therefore unfortunate how little material is designed to prepare a couple for the likely scenario of losing their unborn child.
After the loss of our first baby, I wondered at this gap in the literature. I wondered how I could have been so ill-equipped, both medically and emotionally, to face what we went through in the days, weeks, and months that followed.
One book that helped us process our grief was Safe in the Arms of God: Truth from Heaven about the Death of a Child by John MacArthur. As we wrestled with where our baby might be, its theological reflections gave us every reason, not merely to hope, but to know that we will be reunited with our little one in heaven.
A Second Chance
That reality didn’t take the pain away, however. But the Lord was with us in our sorrow. Sometimes the sight of a young couple pushing a stroller triggered waves of grief. It was then that Dan and I leaned into one another and clung to the goodness of God. “He heals the broken-hearted and binds up their wounds.” (Ps 147:3). We reminded one another that if the Lord wanted us to have children, he would make that happen.
A few months later, I became pregnant for the second time. With trepidation, we shared the good news with a narrower group of friends and family. We hoped for the best but prepared for the worst. Morning sickness once again became my constant companion. My ObGyn reassured me that this was a good sign. She explained that it indicated that the pregnancy was normal and that the baby was developing well. She added that she worried more for women with no such symptoms at all.
Yet, despite our prayers and those of our loved ones, history repeated itself. The Lord called to himself our second child. All we could do was echo the prayer of Job, “The LORD gives and the LORD takes away. Blessed be the name of the Lord.” (Job 1:21).
The Badge of Motherhood
A year later, Dan and I relocated to Senegal childless. This had not been in our plans. In a culture that placed such a high premium on motherhood, I felt at times like half a woman. That was when I had to remind myself that my ability to produce a child did not determine my worth. Being united to Christ in his death and resurrection did (Ga 2:20, Co 3:1-3). And even if our dreams of parenthood never materialized, Dan and I would be father and mother to the spiritual sons and daughters the Lord would allow us to devote our lives to.
The Lord’s Timing
I became pregnant for a third time during our first term in Senegal. We told no one but our parents and most intimate friends. Once again, nausea, upset stomach, fatigue, excessive salivating, and insatiable hunger haunted me. This time around, adding to the discomfort of morning sickness was the fact that not a single North American fast-food chain existed in Senegal. My insatiable pregnant woman cravings therefore went unsatisfied. At night, I dreamt of Taco Bell, and in the morning, I endured the disappointment of waking up burrito-less.
Then, one morning, I wasn’t sick anymore. Rather than feeling like I’d just been on a long, turbulent transatlantic flight, I felt energized and motivated. What’s more, the omnipresent aroma of my neighbours frying fish at 11 AM no longer bothered me. I felt alive again! And most importantly, our baby was still alive! Together we’d survived the risky first trimester.
The Gifts of Joy and Victory
My belly swelled, announcing to the world that a child was growing within me. As it did, friends and strangers alike took notice. For some reason, seeing a pregnant European dressed in African attire made people happy. “You look so beautiful!” “Thank you for dressing like us!” It’s a good thing I don’t mind drawing attention!
My second and third trimesters flew by. Friends in the States threw me a virtual baby shower, and my college roommate Amy cashed in her air miles to pay us a special visit all the way from San Francisco. My mom booked tickets from San Diego to be by my side for the big day. As my due date drew near, Dan and I once again faced the unknown. This time, however, we did so with great anticipation of finally holding our daughter in our arms. I gave birth to Isabella Joy on Sunday, March 1, 2009 at Clinique de la Madeleine in Dakar, Senegal. Nearly four years later, her sister Evangeline Victoria joined us on Sunday, December 16, 2012.
God is Faithful. Period.
That’s our story. Or at least, that’s part of our story. But lest recounting it communicate inadvertently some clichéd happy endings out of a silly Hollywood romcom, I want to be clear: Not all adversity ends in joy on this side of heaven. My heart goes out to the couples whose story includes the anguish of miscarriage but not the gift of new life. What God taught Dan and me through our story is that he has not promised to keep us from trials, but rather to be with us in their midst. In Isaiah 43:1-2, the LORD makes the following promise,
Now this is what the Lord says—
the one who created you, Jacob,
and the one who formed you, Israel—
“Do not fear, for I have redeemed you;
I have called you by your name; you are mine.
2 When you pass through the waters,
I will be with you,
and the rivers will not overwhelm you.
When you walk through the fire,
you will not be scorched,
and the flame will not burn you.
Yes, God blessed us with two precious daughters. But he also allowed us to endure the loss of our fifth child through miscarriage following Evangeline’s birth. God used our losing three of our little ones to root in our hearts the words of Paul in 2 Corinthians 4:16-18,
Therefore we do not despair, but even if our physical body is wearing away, our inner person is being renewed day by day. For our momentary, light suffering is producing for us an eternal weight of glory far beyond all comparison because we are not looking at what can be seen but at what cannot be seen. For what can be seen is temporary, but what cannot be seen is eternal.
My prayer is that this and all the stories in this book inspire you to fix your eyes on Christ, whom we cannot see, and to consider your own sufferings as momentary and light compared to the length and weight of eternity with him.
