Every Heart Matters (early miscarriage and loss)


It was only six weeks. Barely enough time for my body to register pregnancy, let alone for a child to develop.

The miscarriage was swift. Painful but not debilitating. I just sat at home in the bathroom and soon it was over and the blood was cleaned up. Two days later I checked, just to be sure, and the pregnancy hormones were already dropping, disappearing as if they had never existed at all.

It was just a blip in the story of my life.

Every Heart Matters (early miscarriage and loss)

In fact, it was so small and so short and so few people knew about it, I quickly fell for the lie that I had no right to mourn something that hadn’t even really been mine.

But the truth is that it was. It was part of my story, no matter how small. A part of who I was and am.

And God used that tiny life, the one that was really just a heart beating, to change and soften me. To open my eyes wider to the sorrows of those around me.

When I publicly wrote, for the first time, about the baby-who-never-came-to-be, I was amazed. Women stopped me, grabbing my hand in grocery stores and the post office and the library, women I had never met before and women I had known for decades, “I lost a baby too,” they said, “It was early, like you, and I was so scared and so hurt. Thank you for showing me that it really does matter.”

And it hit me like a ton of bricks.

Of course it matters.

Of course.

It was a heart that was beating. A life that was made from a part of you. Every heart that stops beating is something to mourn. Death is shadowy and sorrowful. And it’s okay to cry.

Scripture says that the heart is the “well-spring of life”. When life is silenced, there is pain. Even Jesus wept when his friend died, even though He knew that Lazarus would rise from the dead. It was still a time of mourning.

Yet, even there we see a promise. For the best part about God is that He creates good out of sorrow. We don’t have to get lost in the sadness forever.

The key to facing heartbreaking circumstances is in the surrender. Learning to say, “God, I hurt over this.” And laying it at His feet, trusting that He will not allow this loss to rule your life.

In my life, in the miscarriage of the only child I’ve ever managed to conceive, I have found redemption in the way that God has softened me and changed me. Ezekiel 36:26 says, “I will plant a new heart and new spirit inside of you. I will take out your stubborn, stony heart and give you a willing, tender heart of flesh.” And He has done just as He promised.

If you too have lost a child, at any point, in any way, do not be afraid to mourn. Do not be afraid to weep. And do not fear tomorrow, for we serve a God who knows and understands pain. A God who walks right into the middle of our sorrow and loss and teaches us to see beauty again.




author and blogger
Natasha is an author and blogger from a small farm in northern New York where she lives with her mechanic-husband and two miracle-children. In her newest book, Counting Grains of Sand: Learning to Delight in a Promise-Making God infertility, adoption, hope, and loss, all collide in this gentle story of how God built a family from splintered pieces and taught one woman how to hold onto faith and learn to delight in a God-Who-Speaks-Promises even while journeying through the wilderness of sorrow.
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  1. Ryanne

    Thank you for this. Yesterday was 6 months since my miscarriage and I just really didn’t know how to feel about it. Still don’t, but thank you for reminding me that it is okay for me to mourn. There really is nothing like this in the world–it is so, so hard to mourn someone that you never met, never knew anything about. And it’s hard for people to acknowledge it as well. How do you grieve for someone who was never really THERE? And by that I mean, present in your life. Someone tangible. But thank you for this much needed reminder.

  2. jenn0021

    Thank you for acknowledging that no matter how early a loss, it is still a loss. Like you said, it’s okay to mourn the loss of that life. It’s not only the loss of the baby you carried, but the loss of the dreams that surrounded that baby. I am five weeks out from my third miscarriage and some days I feel so alone. Even though I know that I am not, it’s hard not to feel that way when I am surrounded by babies everywhere. Thank you for speaking out.

  3. Jessiqua Wittman

    I was sharing this with a dear friend before I even realized who had written it.
    Once again, thank you, Natasha. (hugs)

  4. katie

    Thanks for sharing this. Just in the middle of mourning the loss of #2 now…both were about 8-9 weeks…excruciating. But thank you for so tenderly writing about this with such compassion and sensitivity. Means so much. xo

  5. Lynelle

    It has been almost 3 years since my only pregnancy of 6 weeks and it has been hard to know how to grieve and acknowledge the legitimacy of the pain. I have also fallen for the lie, “I had no right to mourn something that hadn’t even really been mine”. I grieved (and continue to grieve) the loss of a dream and my miscarriage (of a pregnancy that we knew about for only 5 days before it was gone) didn’t seem very different from the monthly disappointments of the previous years. It often feels like it never really happened other than the hope it reignited.

    Your words “It was a heart that was beating. A life that was made from part of you” brought me to tears, as I recognise it as a life. Tears are good, feeling is good. I find myself becoming hard to my own pain (for fear of being consumed) and therefore the pain of others. I don’t want to be hard.

    Thank you so much Natasha for writing, for sharing your heart and sharing God’s truth. I feel like you have given words to what is inside of me, what I have struggled to express.

    We continue to pray, to hope, to trust God in His goodness. My testimony to date isn’t of a desired outcome but of God’s love while still in the pain.

  6. Mandy

    “Even Jesus wept when his friend died, even though He knew that Lazarus would rise from the dead. It was still a time of mourning.”

    So true! The ONLY lasting comfort that I have *significantly* felt about any of my miscarriages is that they are born into heaven. They are still born. Just into heaven. They are STILL in the arms of our Lord and Creator, not in some dismal black hole, but in a place of beauty and peace. So the death lasted for such a small time before they really were ALIVE! I have to repeat that to myself often. It does help. I also consider relatives that have gone before my children and I am also comforted to know they are together in the Lord’s presence.

  7. Amber

    In the midst of my browsing for help and healing of my heart with my recent miscarriage (last week) I came across this blog and I first want to say thank you for your transparent and emotional testimony and also how deeply sorry I am you have experienced this loss. I didn’t know what to really think or feel when it first happened and to read all of this it really puts things into such a beautiful perspective. Thank you.

    I sit here gazing into the sonogram picture with the arrow pointing to our baby. I remember exactly my feelings when we first did the pregnancy test at home showing the two infamous lines of “positive”…fear, anxiety, overwhelmed and a bit of joy. I sit here now thinking how I took that moment and the precious weeks I was pregnant for granted. I let fear win and I feel absolutely horrible for not having more joy and excitement for this baby. After all God blessed us with our first precious child together and I was too scared to enjoy him/her…even for the short 8.5 weeks. I find this blog and the comments very helpful as I mourn the loss of my baby that is now bundled up with a blanket of love and peace from our Heavenly Father. I am so sorry for all of you who have experienced such a loss like this and it is my prayer that our God comforts each of you, supplying you with the strength to move forward and to always remember that sometimes it’s the smallest parts of our lives that make the biggest impact. I am learning to live each day to the fullest, trying not to ask too many “why this” or “why that” questions and instead rest in the peace of knowing that God is a lot smarter than I am and I am to trust in Him…not question. I am learning not to take even the smallest things in my day to day life for granted…and maybe the loss of my baby will teach me just that.

  8. Karen

    This is absolutely lovely and comforting, and yes, it matters. Thank you.

  9. BeccahW

    Thank you. We lost our little one at 5 weeks and tomorrow marks when I would have 12 weeks along.

  10. Natasha

    Hello, thank you for your words and encouragement. I lost 2 babies early on and I was so afraid I would never have children. I do have 2 little babies 12 months apart now, who would’ve guessed! God is always good! Even in the midst of pain. I never tell anyone anymore when I’m hurting from my losses, it was so long ago, it seems everyone forgot. But I don’t; I miss them even though it was nearly 3 years ago.

    I almost didn’t write this because it isn’t exactly on the same topic. But I found an herb that has helped 5 people I know be able to get pregnant or carry full term. It’s called vitex. Sorry that’s not what I probably should be writing on A post like this, but I like to help people if I can, who are in the same situation I was.

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