Wordless Sighs
A Dad’s Perspective on Child Loss
We hadn’t told anyone.
We were getting ready to visit family and had been devising a surprise reveal. We couldn’t wait to see the look on their faces when they learn we were expecting our first child.
I don’t remember exactly what we came up with, but it was something like wrapping up an ultrasound picture in a picture frame and giving it to our parents as a gift.
Then came the appointment.
The nurse spread the gel on Michelle’s belly and put the ultrasound device on her skin to listen for the heartbeat. But we could only hear Michelle and the movement of the device across her skin. The nurse offered her reassurance.
“It’s still early,” she said. “Sometimes we can’t hear a heartbeat this early.“
We were uneasy, but not worried.
The doctor said, “Let’s send her to get a better look to make sure everything is OK.“
I had a meeting at my church across town. I’m sure it was something really important… or at least I thought so at the time. So, I kissed Michelle and went on my way while they looked into things further.
A few hours later Michelle called.
“Can you come home?“
Her voice was shaky.
“What’s wrong?“
“There is no heartbeat. We lost the baby.”
My drive home felt endless. Along with the grief, I felt for the baby I never knew, I felt overwhelming remorse.
Guilt.
I left.
I left Michelle alone to hear this awful news.
I left Michelle alone to deal with this by herself.
I left Michelle alone.
I made a meaningless church meeting more important than my wife and my unborn child.
Michelle in her endless grace for me never spoke an angry word. She cried and grieved with me, and I with her. But that remorse, that guilt I felt, stayed with me for years to come, as I tried to bury my grief and be strong.
But I find comfort in these words, even now almost 20 years later as I reflect on that time:
“If we don’t know how, or what to pray, it doesn’t matter. The spirit does our praying in and for us, making prayer out of wordless sighs, our aching groans.” — Romans 8:26-28 (MSG)
I had no words. I still have no words.
Sadly, in the job, I do, I have heard the same kind of sighs and groans far too often. Even just yesterday I baptized a baby, born four months early, who somehow managed to breathe for 14 hours before she died.
What words would ever be sufficient?
What words could ever make things good or right or well?
I can’t think of any.
So I like others can only sigh and groan.
But in these sighs and groans is the very presence of God.
The spirit does the praying in and for us.
The spirit who hovered over the earth, and animated life at the dawn of creation, speaks on our behalf.
The Spirit of God speaks.
And when God speaks, somehow life happens… even in the face of death.
The same God who spoke creation into being, speaks life into the dark hallways of grief and loss that we all know more intimately than we ever would’ve wished for.
Not long ago I sat with a family shortly after their child died.
The father, looking for a kind of light in the darkness said,
“Chaplain, is there a Bible verse or anything that could help us right now? We are pretty lost.”
Hundreds of verses flashed through my mind, but instead of quoting chapter and verse, I said
“No. I don’t know of a single Bible verse that can help. But I do know that you’re not alone in this. I know that God who loves you and who loves your precious baby is here with us now… crying with us and holding us close. And I know that is how you will keep going. You may never get over this because that’s not how it works really. We don’t suddenly wake up one morning and stop longing for the ones we loved and lost. But God stays with us and I believe with all that I am that God is good. And somehow that’s enough.”
Friends, it’s important to remember.
It’s important to lean into our hurts.
It’s not to drudge up pain or dwell in the past.
It’s that we need reminders.
We need the memories.
We need assurance and reassurance because we don’t move on… but we do keep going.
We need reminders that this is hard AND God is good.
Both of those things are simultaneously true.
Sigh your wordless sighs.
Groan your aching groans.
Let those be your prayers.
Know that God hears you.
Know that God sees you.
Know that God is with you in your hurts.
And know God loves you beyond measure.