Before my husband and I started trying for another baby, I asked God for one thing. "Please, God, just no more miscarriages," I said. We'd been through two already, and they were the most heart-wrenching experiences of my life. They caused me to doubt everything—God's love, Bryan's love, and the strength of our relationship. Miscarriage didn't only hurt my heart, it threatened my marriage. "It's just too awful, too painful," I told God. "So, please, just spare me that."
Instead he made me face the pain, live the nightmare, not just once but four more times in less than a year. Six miscarriages total. Six times for hope to soar only to come crashing down. Six times of facing that particular sorrow, and for my marriage to take that particular hit.
But through the journey, I learned three important things that helped not only save my marriage, but strengthen it as well.
He Does Care—Just Differently
I was nine weeks along when we discovered our fourth miscarriage. We'd gone in for a routine ultrasound only to discover that the baby had no heartbeat and appeared to have stopped developing a week and a half before.
We were headed home from the appointment when Bryan turned to me from the driver's seat. "So, you want to get some lunch?"
What? We just found out our baby's dead, and he's thinking about food? Of all the insensitive, uncaring … "Lunch? You've got to be kidding me. Don't you care about our baby? Don't you care about me?" I ranted, I raved, I sputtered, I stewed, I crossed my arms and refused to look at him. It would have better if I'd cried. But for me, anger comes easier than tears.1