In between the birth of my two children I had a miscarriage. This was such a painful experience both physically and emotionally. It was November, and in our minds we had another baby celebrating the holidays with us. When the pain and bleeding started, we called our doctor. I was told I was probably having a miscarriage and to try and find the fetus. What, how was I supposed to do that?
But God! He allowed me to find my baby. It was the size of a nickel. It looked just like a baby. There was no mistaking it. I thought I was 13 weeks pregnant. I thought I was safe being past the three month mark. I asked the doctor if this was a 13 week fetus and she said no. It was probably around a 9 week fetus.
The doctor told me that twenty percent of all pregnancies end in miscarriage. They don’t tell you that when you first discover you’re pregnant because they do not want to dampen the excitement. But it is true. The baby did not survive. Then she explained to me how our body works. It took a few weeks for my uterus to tell my brain. And then my brain had to tell my uterus. Our bodies self abort the baby as part of God’s design.
I had been praying for God to give me a healthy baby. I had this strange understanding that He was answering my prayer. But more than that, God was giving me some very important information. That contrary to popular belief, or what the world would tell us, something that small was still a human life. I did not know at the time that 25 years later I would be serving with Chester County Women’s Services and sharing my story throughout the community. But God knew. He allowed me to find my baby; to find the impossible – because our God is the God of the possible!