An Open Letter About Grief
February 20, 2025
I am a mom who has miscarried twice. I have two children in my home, two in heaven and one in-utero. We name all our children; Ruth and Tom, Lilly and Winterberry, and now Bo. Bo as in Rainbow. We are a family that tells everyone we’re pregnant right away. We don’t wait.
“But what if?” Yes, what if?
What if I miscarry again? With Lilly, I miscarried so quickly we didn’t have time to tell anyone except Ruth and Tom because we dawdled just the tiniest bit. All my phone calls went the same; I got a positive pregnancy test, but now I’m miscarrying. And instead of being able to rejoice at the beauty of new life, we sobbed about the pain of death.
“Why call them at all?”
Because I wanted those people to know that we had another family member. I wanted our children to know about their sister. I wanted our parents to know about their grandchild.
“But isn’t all the grief unnecessary?”
No, grief is part of this world. We don’t do people (or young children) any good by trying to hide it from them. Lily is a member of our family. She has an immortal soul that joined her Creator in paradise sooner than what I desired. But she exists and so we told people about her.
I have friends who have waited to tell people about their pregnancies. And some of those friends have miscarried those babies. And because they had told no one the exciting news of the baby, they told no one the devastating news of the baby’s death. And they suffered alone. In silence. No meal trains, no flowers, no “I’m praying for you's. The grief is real. It's there regardless of how we try to minimize or skip over it. The grief is a reality you can’t escape because our children are real. Our children’s lives cannot be minimized, skipped over, or forgotten. When we try to avoid grief, we gaslight ourselves. We know we have lost a child and we know that loss is a significant one. We have no sane choice but to look it in the face and walk the path through it. The path isn’t pleasant - gut-wrenching sobs that can make you vomit, days of feeling like you cannot move on, that there will be no joy or happiness, wondering why God would give you a baby just to take her away so soon. The depths are real and you sink in the pain.
And that is necessary. All that grieving isn’t wasted. We wouldn’t wish it on anyone, and yet it helps, not hurts us. Suffering draws us to Christ and makes us be honest about our dependence on God. He is the only one who can get us through.
As we have been telling people about our new Baby Bo, people have been excited for us. They’ve been waiting, like we have, for us to be given another baby. And now we have been. Ooooooh, it's so exciting!!
“Are you going to ask back all that baby gear you just gave away?”
But they’re also hesitant, “What if?” “What if the same thing happens again?” “What if we ride the hype, just to end in another miscarriage? It's happened before.”
“We’re so excited to see your pictures from your ultrasound tomorrow!” But what if they show what Winterberry’s 6-week ultrasound showed? No heartbeat and a deteriorating amniotic sack?
Then I will still send the pictures to everyone I promised pictures to. Because it will still be our beautiful little Bo - a precious little someone who we love and will love until we see him again. All would not be lost, just this heartbeat. But our little ones don’t need a heartbeat to live eternally.
Should I pay attention to the nervousness that constantly creeps up in my mind about this ultrasound with Bo today? No, I don’t think so. I know I’m doing my best to support him physically - Progesterone shots, special vitamins because of MTHFR, aspirin for PIA4G/5G, closer attention to my food sensitivities, sleep, low stress (or as my mother says, not over-doing it). Now the nervousness is just fear.
Fear doesn’t serve me. It only tries to undermine my honesty about who I’m dependent on. Bo and I are dependent on the same person. Only God can sustain me, only God can sustain little Bo. And God’s not nervous.
“Your aunts are excited for you! But they know your history.”
I’m not hedging my bets. I’m not moderating my joy. I’m not waiting to get excited until I have the next text results that say Baby Bo is fine. I’m letting my hope balloon float all the way up, right away.
We don’t gain an advantage by anticipating grief. Bracing for impact isn’t helpful. Anticipating grief is hard not to do, but it's worth the effort to fight and let excitement win out. Bracing ourselves for grief doesn’t make the grief less difficult. It only means you had less joy while you had something to be joyful about. If I had braced myself for a possible miscarriage with Lilly, I would have lost out on the 36 hours of elation I did get with her. I want to experience all the joy that comes with each new baby, not just some of it. So I don’t waste time spreading the news when I’m pregnant.
In fact, I present in schools and churches for work and while I’m pregnant, I tell everyone I present to. 3rd graders, middle schoolers, high schoolers, adults in bible study groups. At this point, 2 weeks after finding out about Bo myself, hundreds of people know about him. And hundreds of people are praying for him.
People want to be involved. They want to be in on the secret. They want to help carry my pain, shoo away the fear and remind me and themselves of God’s unfailing love and providence. Miscarriage is irreversible, but it's not permanent. So many families have experienced losing a child and joining their hearts with mine is healing for both of us. “I have two in heaven too.” “I’m sorry.” This vulnerability, this willingness to mourn together creates the real Body of Christ. I refuse to put up a front. My elation is real elation and my grief is real, warranted grief and y'all get to experience both.
Besides, the babies aren’t my babies. As much as I’d like to wrap my love so tightly around them that nothing could wiggle them out of my motherly grip, I can’t. They aren’t mine to keep. None of my babies are mine to keep. I am a steward of the gifts given to me by God. And children are 5 of those gifts. They’re borrowed, lent, and I try to invest in them and return them to God with them having grown in many ways. But some babies I get less time with than others and that is devastating. “Why did you take my baby?” That question isn’t quite truthful and I mourn better when I’m truthful. “Why did you take our baby so soon?” Same question, same grief, maybe even some anger, but honesty about who is who and whose is whose, who is in power and who is wisest. God wants good things for me. I remind myself of this often. It doesn’t make the grief go away, but it takes the poison out. It deletes the classic lie - God is withholding something good from me.
Maybe these concepts are new, maybe you’ve had similar thoughts run around but they’re hard to catch and pin down. Maybe you knew all this already. I’d love to hear your thoughts and stories. I covet your prayers for this pregnancy - that God lends me Bo for many years. And I invite you to rejoice with me in the little people God gives us to care for.
-Abigail Lorenzen
PS. I have some excellent reading suggestions for you if you want to chew on this more. They’re below. But I also want to make sure you get to hear the stuff Tom (3yrs) said to me while I was typing this today:
“I feel his baby skin!” Rubbing my belly and talking about Baby Bo.
Upon waking up and coming down stairs: “My legs are unsteady and my arms are under control.” Excellent. Keep working on those legs, Tom Tom.
Suggested Reading:
-Controlled Burn by Brooke Martin
-You’re Still A Mother by Jackie Gibson
Companion Radio Episodes:
https://www.ichooselife.org/resources/past-episodes/miscarriage/youre-still-a-mother-p1
https://www.ichooselife.org/resources/past-episodes/miscarriage/youre-still-a-mother-part-two
-The Moon is Always Round by Jonathan Gibson (children’s book but excellent for adults also)
Companion Radio Episode:
-Waiting with Gabriel by Amy Kuebelbeck (adverse prenatal diagnosis, lethal fetal anomaly)
Other Radio Episodes:
