after a Miscarriage: Sarah's Story
"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
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
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
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
." 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.