Baby loss awareness week - The loneliness of grief

This week is baby loss awareness week. It is an opportunity for people to remember those babies that didn’t make it through pregnancy or died in the early days of life. It is also a time to bring awareness to the fact that baby loss is unfortunately common, and that the grief and loss that parents feel is real, valid and something to be spoken about. As someone who has walked through infertility for 11 years, while baby loss isn’t part of my story, as a redemptive thread God has woven as part of my story of grace, I have sat with many women who have lost a precious child. I have wept with them, longed with them, prayed with them and lamented with them. It has been easy to see what a horrendous thing baby loss is and how the grief can be very isolating. 

Last night I had the great privilege of speaking at our local annual service of remembrance for parents who have experienced baby loss both recently and in the past, organised by Macclesfield maternity unit and hosted at the beautiful St Michaels church. It was such a special evening as over 50 people gathered together to remember, to acknowledge and to grieve the lives, the memories and the could-have-beens.

I chose to speak from the beautiful poetry book in the bible - the book of Psalms and looking at 139 I spoke about how God is with us in every situation we are facing: 

O Lord, you have examined my heart
    and know everything about me.

You know when I sit down or stand up.
    You know my thoughts even when I’m far away.

You see me when I travel
    and when I rest at home.
    You know everything I do.

You know what I am going to say
    even before I say it, Lord.

You go before me and follow me.
    You place your hand of blessing on my head.

Such knowledge is too wonderful for me,
    too great for me to understand

I can never escape from your Spirit!
    I can never get away from your presence!

If I go up to heaven, you are there;
    if I go down to the grave, you are there.

If I ride the wings of the morning,
    if I dwell by the farthest oceans,

even there your hand will guide me,
    and your strength will support me.

I could ask the darkness to hide me
    and the light around me to become night—

    but even in darkness I cannot hide from you.
To you the night shines as bright as day.
    Darkness and light are the same to you.

I spoke of how even in the darkest of days when I could take comfort in the fact that God sees, he knows and he cares. I finished my reflection by saying: 

‘In the days to come when you remember your baby with joy, when the pain of grief suddenly comes upon you, when you walk down the read of what ifs, or when the loss seems so big that you can no longer breathe; remember that you are not alone, that your baby is fearfully and wonderfully made and that God holds you and your baby in his heart.’

It was such a beautiful service and there was great power and healing as we read out the names of each baby represented there, a life loved and a child grieved for. 

After the service there was a special moment, where the loneliness of grief became tangible and I, and my colleague were able to show a grieving mother that she really wasn’t alone. As we were clearing away the chairs, a lady came into the chapel clearly in the depths of grief. Her daughter had passed away in the last year and she had really wanted to be at the service as she felt it was significant for her. Circumstances had meant she had missed the service, and she was so upset about it, but she had still shown up in the hope that she might be able to remember her daughter. 

In the quiet of the empty church we lit a candle with her, she placed a name tag on the remembrance tree and we spoke out the name, I was able to pray over her and her grief and then we simply sat with her in her grief. We shared the space of sorrow with her as she sobbed, lost in her memories, thoughts and lament. We sat in this sacred space for some time, and as we did I was reminded once again that this is what God does with us. At the times when the loneliness of grief creeps upon us, God simply sits with us, acknowledging the pain and holding us until we can continue once again. 

Today, my prayer is for all those people who have experienced the grief and pain of baby loss. I pray that when they next feel the consuming loneliness of loss, they will know and experience God’s promise that they, that we are never alone.