Miscarriage

HRTB Reflections: An Ides of Marching Forward

By Melissa DeGroot


I can hardly believe fifteen years have passed since the beginning of He Remembers the Barren. When Katie contacted Kristi, Rebecca and me a couple months ago to commemorate this blog, it gave me pause to reflect on so many things. Looking back to where this all started, I remember how new, exciting, and nerve-wracking it all felt—the blogging world itself, wondering how people would receive what we were writing, and hoping that ultimately in the midst of it all there would be real talk, real comfort and faithful theological grounding for people who were suffering. 

I can also look back at myself and cringe a little. Okay, maybe a lot.

I’m sure most writers (a title I hold very loosely) feel that way when they look at their early work. I was in my early thirties then. I was definitely more immature than I realized. I had professional, diaconal and mental health training and, if I’m being fair to my younger self, some good theology. But I was also a little zealous. Overconfident, even. Ego and pride were mixed in there, too. 

Seemingly an Old Eve disease that I am still getting medicine for each Lord’s Day. 

The chronology is a little muddled in my head (thank you, perimenopause!) – though I recall talking to Katie about this topic well before the blog took shape and before my son was born.  After a miscarriage early in my marriage, I recall having the fear that I was going to be barren, too. Like it was somehow contagious? There was this superstitious, self-fulfilling prophecy of sorts in my head that if I kept talking about barrenness, it was going to be my “fate.” 

So much for good theology.

Then, right around the time this blog started, my husband and I had been blessed with a son. Parts of me thought this conversation wasn’t really for me at that point, even though I knew it was still good to spiritually comfort those who were suffering with it.   

However, not too long after that, my husband, Adam, and I began walking through secondary infertility. It was a decades-long trek of fear, prayer and wondering whether we would have more children. I spent so many years worrying about it. I put so much pressure on myself.

HRTB hit me from a different angle, and it was one that I needed.

You see, I had high hopes of being a large, Lutheran family. I came from a larger family myself. Bring on the multi-passenger van transporting a gaggle of homeschooled, slightly-nerdy-but-athletic DeGroots! 

It was the dream. 

It never became a reality. 

And here is what made the conversations surrounding He Remembers the Barren so important to me.

During the fretting and faithful reckoning throughout my thirties, I felt this was a conversation our church body needed to have more openly anyway. Within the Lutheran Church—Missouri Synod, I was seeing a renewed appreciation for our confessional and liturgical heritage. There was much good in that. Along with it came a strong and thoroughly biblical affirmation of marriage, children, and family.

Thanks be to God for that.

But I felt pressure, too. It was compelling at times – yet not always in the best way: like there existed a stress to have “all the kids” to not only grow the church but have more joy in your life. I had pious people say some well-meaning yet off-putting things to me (“Just stop working and go have kids,” “Relax, and it will happen”) that simply didn’t fully align with what God says and our good understanding of the doctrine of vocation. I don’t begrudge them or hold any resentments. I certainly held some of those beliefs, too. It just didn’t happen for us that way.

Singleness. Barrenness. Miscarraige. Secondary Infertilty. Adoption. Families that don’t look the way we imagined they would. Our doctrine of vocation is beautifully spacious precisely because the Lord is the One who gives and takes away our callings.  

Those were some of the conversations Katie and I began having all those years ago. I was (and still am) grateful to be a cheerleader and small contributor in the arena—to encourage the conversation, to have seen this blog created, and the book published.

And then there were Kristi and Rebecca, whose experiences helped fill in still more of the picture. Different women. Different stories. Different kinds of suffering connected to barrenness and their own way of articulating it. Yet the same need for substance.

Fifteen years later, I think that is what I appreciate most.

Barrenness has a way of confronting us with just how little control any of us actually have. We can enjoy the intimacy of marriage. Make appointments. Try treatments. Change diets. Track, plan, pray and de-stress! Those things can be good and worthwhile. But eventually, we run into the limits of our own ability to make life happen according to our plans.

Which can be terrifying, but also expose some of the false gods we didn’t realize we were carrying.

For me, one of them was the idea that my family needed to look or be a certain way for me to feel that I had somehow measured up. “Image Manager” was a false calling that I created to feel valuable and worthy. I put pressure on myself that God simply had not put on me. Perhaps I even put that pressure on others, too.

And suffering has a way of bringing those things into the light.

I’m 47 years old now. My perspective has definitely changed over the past fifteen years. Marriage, motherhood, ministry, friendships, disappointments, and simply getting older have shaped and refined how I think, speak and serve. As a result, I have let go of so many things. But acceptance of what is doesn’t require me to pretend that all my thoughts, hopes and feelings weren’t somehow real, unholy or unwarranted. 

The longing for a child is real. The disappointment is real.

Yet Christ is just as real yesterday, today and forever.

That is where I hope this conversation continues to lead.

Christ does not meet us merely as an idea or a theological explanation for why suffering exists. He comes to us in the flesh. He comes every time His Word is preached and His Sacraments are administered. He surrounds us with sisters and brothers in Christ, with pastors, deaconesses, pious friends, and the whole family of God. Because we still need forgiveness and the Church, no matter what stage of life we’re in.

And sometimes, through those people, He even gives us the gift of feeling some (or a lot) of the comfort He has already promised to us.

What a gift it is when a sister in Christ sits beside me and says, “I know this hurts.” What a gift when a pastor speaks Christ’s promises into suffering. What a gift when another woman’s story reminds me that I’m not alone.

Though, whether we feel it or not, assurance is based on the truth of God’s Word. We are redeemed, precious, and loved. Christ’s death and resurrection has power, even now, to bring us faith to trust that no matter the trial, He is still with us.

So fifteen years later, I’m grateful to contribute to this conversation again. I’m grateful for Katie, Kristi, and Rebecca, and the many women and men who have been willing to speak honestly about barrenness, infertility, miscarriage, adoption and a host of other life issues. I’m grateful that He Remembers the Barren became a place where these conversations could happen.

And I’m curious about where it goes from here.

Maybe fifteen years have given us a little more perspective. Maybe we can speak about these things with greater spiritual maturity—without minimizing suffering, but also without allowing suffering to have the final word.

Because while it’s real, Christ is more real still.

And He has not forgotten us.

Looking back and moving forward, God is always remembering us, even when our memories fail and fade.

God continue to bless and strengthen us as we seek to share our unique experiences, strength, and hope in Him now in our midlife years. Perhaps this blog commemoration is a connection point to a new generation who are walking through these hardships, a generation who may be seeking a sisterly, motherly (gosh, some might even say, grandmotherly), ear to listen, receive love and care with greater understanding and grace. I hope so.

Because while striving to serve each other well, to care for and raise faithful children, God reminds us Christ crucified and risen for us is the only Way, Truth and Life certain in this world.

Ides years later, God continue to bless these conversations and this blog as He sees fit.

15 years

by Katie Schuermann


It has been 15 years since this blog was born. Can you believe it?

Our lives have changed much since Rebecca, Kristi, Melissa and I first started blogging about barrenness. Some of our crosses remain, others have been lifted, and still others have been exchanged.

We first ceased blogging all of those years ago, not because barrenness and secondary infertility no longer affect us, but because we thought it wise for our readers to start engaging more with their pastors face-to-face about their suffering, especially on matters of the conscience.

But we would like to honor the 15th anniversary of the first edition of He Remembers the Barren’s publication as well as this blog’s birth by announcing that we plan to blog every day in the coming month of October.

Because we are older and, we pray, wiser.

And because miscarriages, adoption, IVF, endometriosis, secondary infertility, grief, and all the things still affect us.

And because we would like to re-engage in that centuries-old Christian tradition of comforting you with the comfort with which we ourselves have been comforted (2 Cor. 1:3-4).

May the God of all mercies be glorified.

Lord willing, see you in October.

Do Not Hinder Them

Pastor Mark Surburg, in his sermon preached on March 24th of this year at Good Shepherd Lutheran Church in Marion, Illinois, draws from the wisdom of Martin Chemnitz in applying Jesus’ admonition of His disciples (Mark 10:13-16) as comfort for Christians grieving a miscarriage.

Pastor Surburg graciously granted us permission to reproduce a portion of his sermon here. You can read the sermon in its entirety on his blog.


iu[T]he loss of a baby in miscarriage is a source of profound grief. The joyful expectation of knowing this little one abruptly ends, and we are left with nothing but sonogram images. Where a miscarriage occurs in the setting of ongoing fertility problems, it can be particularly crushing.

Yet it is not just the grief of a life lost. Our knowledge from God’s Word about the nature of man since the Fall also means that miscarriage presents us with troubling questions. Our Lord Jesus told Nicodemus, “That which is born of the flesh is flesh, and that which is born of the Spirit is spirit.” We know from Scripture that sinful, fallen man produces sinful, fallen man. It matters not how cute that sinful, fallen man is. 

For this very reason Jesus said, “Truly, truly, I say to you, unless one is born of water and the Spirit, he cannot enter the kingdom of God.” Our Lord has given us Holy Baptism as the means by which babies receive a washing of the new birth in the Holy Spirit, and become saints forgiven because of Christ. What then are we to say about these babies who were never born alive, and so never could receive rebirth in Holy Baptism?

Our text from Mark chapter ten provides encouragement to think about these things on the basis of our Lord’s word. It does not provide an exact answer. But it sends us to Christ in faith and hope. Mark begins by telling us, “And they were bringing children to him that he might touch them, and the disciples rebuked them.”

Presumably parents were bringing their children – and the term used here includes very young children – so that Jesus could touch them. Now in Mark’s Gospel, every other time that Jesus touches someone it is order to provide healing. The saving power of the kingdom of God – the reign of God – was present in Jesus. People recognized this. On three different occasions in the gospel, Mark tells us that people in need of healing hoped to touch Jesus, or even just to touch his clothes.

Why did these parents want Jesus to touch their children?  They did because Jesus came proclaiming, “The time is fulfilled, and the kingdom of God is at hand; repent and believe in the gospel.” They did because Jesus healed the sick, the blind and lepers with his touch. They did because the demons cried out, “What have you to do with us, Jesus of Nazareth? Have you come to destroy us? I know who you are–the Holy One of God,” before he cast them out. They wanted Jesus to touch their children because Jesus and his touch brought God’s saving reign.

However, we learn that when this happened “the disciples rebuked them.” Since the text never actually mentions who brought the children, I think we have to assume that the “them” refers to the children themselves. This fits with an important piece of cultural background that we need to understand. 

In our world children are revered. They are viewed as pure and untainted sources of wisdom. “Listen to the children” we are told. However, in the ancient world children were viewed as inferior because they were helpless and not able to work like adults; they were physically weak; they were likely to get sick and die; they were not guided by reason. They were looked down upon and were not held up as role models for adults to imitate.

But in response, the Lord Jesus was indignant about what the disciples were doing. He commanded them, “Let the children come to me; do not hinder them, for to such belongs the kingdom of God. Truly, I say to you, whoever does not receive the kingdom of God like a child shall not enter it.” And then Jesus took children in his arms – he embraced them – and blessed the children, laying his hands on them.

Jesus says in our text that the kingdom of God – the saving reign of God – was meant for those children. It was his will for them to receive it. He did not want them hindered from being brought to him. In the experience of miscarriage these words give us comfort and hope. Jesus wants these children in the womb to receive the reign of God. When Christian parents are prevented by miscarriage from bringing a child to baptism, we take comfort in the knowledge that our Lord does not want children to be hindered from receiving his saving reign.

Jesus Christ was so intent on bringing the reign of God that he suffered and died on the cross for you; for me; for every child we have lost in miscarriage. It is in this same chapter that our Lord says, “For even the Son of Man came not to be served but to serve, and to give his life as a ransom for many.” Christ offered himself up in the suffering of the cross as the sacrifice for our sin.

But God’s reign in Christ could not be defeated by death.  Instead, Jesus passed through death in order to defeat it.  On the third day God raised Jesus from the dead. In his resurrection Christ has conquered death – even the death of infants in the womb. He has begun the resurrection of the Last Day that he will bring to completion for us when he returns in glory.

We entrust the little ones we have lost to the crucified and risen Lord. He has said that the kingdom of God belongs to such as these. He has said that he does not want them hindered from being brought to God’s reign. We know that he has bound us to the Means of Grace. But as God he knows no limitations. Indeed, it is immediately after our text that in response to the disciples shocked question, “Then who can be saved?”, that our Lord says: “With man it is impossible, but not with God. For all things are possible with God.” We know the kind of Lord that Jesus has revealed himself to be in his death and resurrection, and so in hope and faith we entrust these little ones to him. They rest in his hands. That is all we need to know, because we know him.

And because we know him, we find comfort in the midst of our grief. In our text Jesus says, “Let the children come to me; do not hinder them, for to such belongs the kingdom of God.” Our Lord declares that the kingdom of God – the reign of God – belongs to children. It belongs to those who were considered weak and helpless – those who had nothing to offer.

That is what we are.  We are weak and helpless. We are not in control. The loss of a child in miscarriage unmasks all of these realities. But Jesus Christ came to bring God’s saving reign to just such people. He came to bring forgiveness and life. He came to bring comfort. He came to bring hope. Sin, sorrow and death do not get the last word. They do not because Jesus Christ has risen from the dead.

Written by Pastor Mark Surburg + Sermon for Life Service + March 24, 2019

Contest Details

Andy Bates and Sarah Gulseth of KFUO Radio’s “The Coffee Hour” chatted with us last week about our Lenten writing contest.

Listen here for details on what we’re looking for in your submission on the prompt, “I waited patiently for the LORD; He inclined to me and heard my cry” (Psalm 40:1).

Remember, this contest is for anyone who breathes, has chromosomes, and reads the Bible.

Submit your entries to katie@katieschuermann.com by noon on March 25th to be considered for the grand prize: a museum-quality giclée print (14.7″ x 18″) of artist Edward Riojas’ cover art for the second edition of He Remembers the Barren.

Happy pondering and writing!

BARREN giclee image

Jewelry Box

iurHe snuck up to my table when no one else was there.

“I know a bit of what you talk about.”

He paused, so I waited. I wasn’t quite certain what part of my presentation had resounded with him, and I didn’t want to assume.

“My only daughter was stillborn.”

Ah.

Something happens in my cheeks whenever someone tells me this. I don’t know what it looks like from the outside, but from the inside, it feels as if my skin releases from my muscles, as if my cheeks — in dutiful obedience to the speaker’s command — move into proper riverbed formation to direct the flow of any incoming tears.

“What was — is — your daughter’s name?”

“Sarah. She was born in 19 _ _.”

My breath caught in my throat. We looked at each other, and I debated whether or not to say it. What if I made things worse?

“That’s the year I was born. I am the age of your Sarah.”

He smiled and wiped a lone tear from one of his own riverbeds.

Then he told me stories. Stories about his work, about the many miscarriages his wife suffered after Sarah, about the way the children in his church would come up and start talking to him — “It hasn’t all been bad,” he assured. — about his love of working with wood, about how he made his wife’s casket when she died.

“She was the jewel of my life,” he said, “so I made a jewelry box to hold her.”

I don’t know how that gentleman felt when he eventually walked away from me, but I felt thankful that Sarah had — has — a father such as him to remember her and miss her and love her still.

 

All Kinds of Barrenness

IMG_0211Special thanks to Katy Cloninger for today’s guest post. Her words of empathy, compassion, and truth are a welcome start to the day.


What does it mean to be barren? Merriam-Webster coldly and bleakly defines it as “incapable of producing offspring,” or “not yet or not recently pregnant.” But on a personal level, there are as many kinds of barrenness as there are barren women.

Some women fall into what may be called the classic category: they have never been able to get pregnant, no matter how much they try to “take charge of their fertility.” Others have been able to conceive but not to carry a child to term. Yet others have carried a pregnancy to term, but the baby was stillborn. Lord, have mercy on us all.

Other women suffer from secondary infertility. They have had one or more children, but for whatever reason, or no apparent reason at all, they cannot have any more. Such cases are made even sadder when the one child a woman has is taken from her by SIDS or some other tragic circumstance. Lord, have mercy on us all.

There are women who have had abortions before they knew the value of life, or knew it but were coerced, and the procedure took away not only the child they had but the ability to have children later on. Or perhaps some other surgery, necessary to preserve their own life, robbed them of the ability to bring more life into the world. Lord, have mercy on us all.

Then there are those women who never found a suitable husband, though their greatest desire was to be a loving wife and mother. Others have found husbands, but their husbands have turned out not to want children, or there are difficulties consummating the marriage, or their husbands have abandoned them, terminating all dreams of a happy home full of children. Perhaps the husband is the sterile spouse. Or perhaps the husband met an untimely death, leaving his young and hopeful wife a widow in her prime childbearing years. Lord, have mercy on us all.

No doubt there are many more kinds of barrenness than I have named. And for every person touched by barrenness, the individual details and complications add layer upon layer of sorrow and grief. Often we feel completely unique and alone in our pain.

But that feeling is a satanic lie, for the Bible tells us so.

“Surely He has borne our griefs and carried our sorrows,” Isaiah prophesies of Jesus, “yet we esteemed Him stricken, smitten by God, and afflicted” (Is 53:4). This Jesus, the Son of the Virgin, indeed “grew up before [the LORD] like a young plant, and like a root out of dry ground” (v. 2), for the very purpose that He would be “despised and rejected by men, a man of sorrows and acquainted with grief” (v. 3)—for us and for our salvation. Though our suffering is unique in some ways, it is common in that we all suffer the effects of sin; we all suffer the death-in-life of existing in a fallen world. We need a Savior to come and suffer for us the true forsaking of God so that we can be assured that God will never forsake us (Heb 13:5).

But because we are in Christ, our suffering leads ultimately to glorification. St. Peter instructs that “those who suffer according to God’s will entrust their souls to a faithful Creator while doing good” (1 Pet 4:19), and to “rejoice insofar as you share Christ’s sufferings, that you may also rejoice and be glad when His glory is revealed” (v. 13). St. Paul picks up on the same theme. He reminds us that we are “heirs of God and fellow heirs with Christ, provided we suffer with Him in order that we may also be glorified with Him” (Rom 8:17). Paul later adds that “those whom [God] foreknew He also predestined to be conformed to the image of His Son” (v. 29)—an image that is first cruciform, and only later glorified.

Nevertheless, Paul comforts us that our sufferings are brief and, with Peter, he encourages us to await the revelation of God’s glory in our now-broken selves: “For I consider that the sufferings of this present time are not worth comparing with the glory that is to be revealed to us” (Rom 8:18). Our glorification is so certain that Paul can speak of it in the past tense: “those whom He predestined He also called, and those whom He called he also justified, and those whom He justified He also glorified” (v. 30). Even now, Paul tells us, the Holy Spirit is bringing forth fruit as we suffer; we can “rejoice in our sufferings, knowing that suffering produces endurance, and endurance produces character, and character produces hope, and hope does not put us to shame, because God’s love has been poured into our hearts through the Holy Spirit who has been given to us” (Rom 5:3–5).

In our present vale of tears, we may not know why God sends us this cross or that one. But we are assured that somehow, it is for our good: “And we know that for those who love God all things work together for good, for those who are called according to His purpose” (Rom 8:28).

Our crosses, whatever they be, are always hard to bear—would be impossible to bear without God’s constant and mighty aid. But even if we are not bearing fruit in our wombs, the Holy Spirit is bearing fruit in us. So we wait with patience, trusting that the God who opens and closes our wombs knows best, and knowing that the glorification of our fallen world—and our fallen bodies—is at hand.


Katy Cloninger is a freelance copyeditor and the divorced mother of one. She has a BA in English from Newberry College and is a member of Holy Trinity Lutheran Church in Columbia, SC. She loves reading, writing, hearing, teaching, and singing about her Savior Jesus Christ and the marvelous truths of God’s Word.

Born for You

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My routine is identical every year.

I watch the last child leave the church — the first Christmas Eve service rehearsal officially in the books — then I drive home, unlock the front door, set my purse and music down on the front entryway bench, walk to the living room, lower myself onto the couch, and cry.

I usually cry for the entire afternoon.

It’s not that I am unhappy. It is that I am sad-happy.

So many hugs. So many songs. So many curious queries. So many eager entreaties for personal attention. So many little heads turned toward mine for affirmation. So many children, and none of them mine and all of them mine.

My barren heart overdoses on the sweet stimulation, and it comes out as salt water on my pillow. Grief is strange that way. It’s triggered by happiness. To be loved stirs up memories of loves lost. So many children, but none of them from my home. None of them in my home.

This year, the tears started long before any of us left the church.

“Christ the child was born for you!” the children sang into my face. The words entered my ear but landed in my heart. “Christ the child was born for you!”

The final chord faded, and the children — my children — stared openly at my red cheeks, my wet eyes. One of them giggled nervously.

“It’s okay,” I reassured, wiping at the river. I tried to think of anything but the present moment. It wasn’t time to commit to the annual cry. Not just yet. I took a deep breath. “Do you realize what you just sang to me? Those words are so comforting. Jesus was born for me! He is born for you! Thank you for comforting me with your song.”

The children simply watched, mystified.

“I will try not to cry when you sing on Christmas Eve,” I winked, still wiping, “but I might. This song comforts me, and I sometimes cry when I am happy.”

One boy scrunched up his nose. “People cry when they’re happy?”

“Adults do,” I said. “At least, some of them.”

“Why?”

No one was giggling anymore. Everyone was listening.

“I think,” I started, “it’s because adults have known a bit of sadness in their life, so when they hear something comforting, it relieves them of their sadness. Crying is a way of relieving sadness. It is a way of being happy.”

It could be explained better, I think, but the children took my answer in stride. They usually do.

We sang some more songs. We practiced some more notes. Before the children left, some of them waited in line at the piano to tell me some of their wishes, to confide in me some of their hopes, to cry onto my shoulder some of their own sadnesses, and to hug my heart close to theirs.

Such sweet stimulation. Such sad-happiness.

I cried the rest of the day.

 

Speak of the Dead

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It is risky business speaking of our dead children. We risk crying in public. We risk the discomfort of others. We risk crowds scattering before us like dust before an electric fan, everyone afraid of “catching what we’ve got.” We risk dirt flying in our faces as others furiously spade the earth to cover the ugly remains of our dead.

Perhaps, worst of all, we risk indifference. Oh, the painful silence of our dead children being acknowledged in public only to be ignored!

It is easier to hold our dead safely and quietly in our hearts where no one can offend or abuse them. But the truth is that our children did not stay in our wombs, and they do not now live in our hearts. They left our bodies to return to dust. They went before us in death, and we follow them into the grave.

This is why we speak of our dead children: because they lived and died and, we trust, live again in Christ. Our dead children are remembered and loved not only by us but by God who Himself lived and died and rose again that we all might live forever with Him in the flesh.

Thank you, Kristen, Audrey, Adrienne, and Melanie, for speaking aloud of your children that we might be comforted.

You can listen to their words here.

Second Edition

Have you had a chance to read He Remembers the Barren, yet?

If not, catch up on what’s new in the revised and extended second edition by listening to these recent interviews on Worldwide KFUO’s Faith ‘n’ Family show:

 

Mayday

No tree wants to be barren, especially in the height of spring.

And when the sun rises on the second Sunday of May, the barren tree closes her eyes against the dreaded dawn. There is no hiding her leafless limbs in this public light. Her bare bark stands out in stark, dark contrast to the other verdant trees in the forest. No blossom crowns her head this Mother’s Day, no fruit snuggles against her naked breast. She has but one, lone Shoot growing from her sterile stump.

“I can bear no fruit,” she laments to the sunrise.

“I AM bearing all of the fruit you need in this life,” answers the Shoot, sprouting leaves of salvation, truth, and love. “I AM the vine; you are the branches. Whoever abides in me bears much fruit. By this my Father is glorified.”

“But my children are dead,” she cries.

The Shoot stretches its arms wide to shade her gaping womb. “I AM the resurrection and the life. Whoever believes in me, though he die, yet shall he live.”

“I am alone,” she mourns.

“I AM with you. And so are they.”

The tree opens her eyes to see a robin returning from a morning scavenge, feeding her babies nesting on a forgotten limb.

“But these are not my children.”

“They are yours to serve,” explains the Shoot. “They depend on you for support. I give them to you to shelter and protect. Love them as yourself.”

The barren tree – through no strength of her own – stands tall, lest the baby birds should fall.


Artist Edward Riojas has captured the poignant reality of barrenness in his exquisite cover artwork for He Remembers the Barren, Second Edition.

This moving painting is now available for purchasing. Do you have someone in your life who might appreciate a giclée print of it this Mother’s Day?

He Remembers the Barren, Second Edition