The “I Don’t Want to Be Here” Club

Earlier this year, I was inducted into a club that no parent wants to be a part of: the child loss by miscarriage club.

Like all parents who are tragically inducted into this club, the grief that is caused by this induction can be pretty confusing. Here, there are good and bad days, but regardless of which type of day it may be, it is often filled with grief that sneaks into our lives.

According to the Cleveland Clinic, “Between 10% and 20% of all known pregnancies end in miscarriage. Most miscarriages (80%) happen within the first three months of pregnancy (up to 13 weeks of pregnancy).”

Meanwhile, my doctor explained to me after our loss that with the advancement in early testing, it is now estimated that the actual number of pregnancies ending in miscarriage may be as high as 1 in 3. This means that the odds are also very high that someone in each of our inner circles has experienced this type of loss, even if they do not share it publicly.

After our loss, I didn’t know what to do with myself. Thankfully, I had a sweet baby in my arms, a gift for which I am eternally grateful.

No matter what I did, I couldn’t shake the thoughts of what could’ve been.

In the middle of all of those racing thoughts, I didn’t seem to find answers to my repetitive, grief-filled questions. Instead, I learned the hard way that sometimes, bad things happen. It’s a result of living in a fallen world – one that’s slowly decaying.

Since my baby died early, I was hesitant to share about my loss or ask for prayers. I know that many choose not to share publicly about their loss, and I understand that choice entirely. But the more I thought about it, the more I felt led to share. My baby was real, even if I never knew what it felt like to hold him in my arms.

Once I decided to share, it didn’t take long for people all around me to share that they, too, were members of the “I Don’t Want to Be Here” Club.

They told me story after story of their loss.

They knew exactly how far along they were.

They told me how painful it was when they realized they were having a miscarriage.

But more than anything, they shared with me how immensely they loved the little one in their womb.

Each story was different, but that mother’s love? It was instant.

Yet, there was something else these women had in common. They were all good, God-fearing women!

As I listened to their heartbreaking stories, I couldn’t help but think about the God we all serve.

The Lord loves us, and even though He is near to the brokenhearted (Psalm 34:18), He also explains that it is the children to whom the kingdom of heaven belongs (Matthew 19:14).

So, if that’s all true, why did our babies have to die so soon?

Again, on this side of heaven, I don’t think that any of us will get a clear-cut answer to that question. I don’t know why the Lord chose to sweep our babies to heaven.

However, I recently reread Romans 8:28, and I am aware of the hope it contains. It says:

And we know that God causes all things to work together for good to those who love God, to those who are called according to His purpose.

There is nothing good about losing a baby. The feeling and heartbreak are among the most profound experiences I’ve ever had.

We don’t want to be a stat or another story — we want our baby (or babies for some of these moms)!

But then, I remember who we're serving and what He is capable of.

That baby? That precious one we, as parents, never even saw on an ultrasound or heard cry? All that baby has ever known (and will know) is goodness.  

That baby will never know what skinned knees feel like or have a runny nose.

That baby is sinless.

That baby is spotless.

That baby is loved on both earth and in heaven.

The more I’ve thought about my baby and those who were never held here on earth, I’m sure that these precious babies are a part of a unique club, too – the “I Don’t Want to Be There” Club.

They don’t want the sickness.

They don’t want shame.

They don’t want to long for heaven.

Instead, these precious little ones want their Father. They want their king! The only one they’ll ever know.

Thankfully, one day, those of us who serve the King of kings, who is holding our babies, will finally meet them – and meet Him face to face. What a moment that will be! But until then, may He grant us the grace to bear our grief as we long to see our sweet, good babies.

The Lord is near to the brokenhearted
And saves those who are crushed in spirit (Psalm 34:18).

Editor’s note: For more content that helps moms cope with the grief of child loss, infertility, and miscarriage, visit Hannah’s Heart.