Every Monday I go to the doctor to find out how much more of my baby has left me that week. They take blood and a few days later I get the results. For several weeks now I’ve seen the number of the hormone level decrease.
And I cry.
It’s good, they tell me, that the hormone that once showed up on a little plastic stick and initiated eternal joy into my soul is almost gone. But for me it’s the last I have of him . . . or her.

Normally, I would be resentful of the dry skin that has somehow also created pimples all over my chin and up the side of my lips. But these pimples are different. They’re my baby, I tell myself. My evidence that he was with me.
Now I’m holding on to those pimples. And appreciating the roughness I feel when I rub my fingers over them.
What’s been eye-opening over the past few weeks, for me, is the number of women who have come to me, in person and online, and told me that they, too, have one or a few or even many unborn babies in heaven.
I never knew so many women have had miscarriages.
I mean, I’ve known people who have had miscarriages. And I’m a statistics girl, so I’ve read all the statistics on the number of pregnancies that end in miscarriage. The numbers just didn’t sink in for me.
Each story I’ve heard has helped me so much because my first thought when my baby left me was “What kind of mother am I that I can’t even take care of my own baby? I can’t even provide an environment for my baby to grow?”
And then I listened to story after story of other women, and I knew that it wasn’t me. It was simply as I’ve known all along but have to now remember – death is in this world because it is broken, fallen, crying out from it’s depths for Jesus, for life.
The support I’ve received is endless and so encouraging. That’s the purpose of this post – to share with you what’s helped me so much. I now feel bad for the insufficient ways I’ve taken care of people I’ve known who have had miscarriages.
Now I know the advice that helped me so much, practical ways to help, and a few thoughts from my own experience that I can share with others. I hope this post will help you as you care for the women in your life who go through miscarriages in the future.
How to Help Someone During a Miscarriage
1. Send texts. And keep sending them. Fill them with prayers and Bible verses.
At the first physical evidence that something wasn’t right I texted a friend in my small group. I did not know she had been through the same experience – the waiting, the wondering, the hope. She texted me often through those next days of doctor visits and worry.
She prayed for me.
She sent me Bible verses that helped her during her own miscarriage.
Her texts helped me so much. Her words and the Words in the verses she sent me were like a refreshing pond quenching my thirst for hope. I knew God was with me through what she shared.
There are no words to tell you what this meant to me.
2. Tell her that it’s a blessing if she gets to see her baby. It’s not weird, and it’s not weird to bury him/her properly.
At first, I didn’t know what to do. My mind was focused more on what I should do or what other people do or what people will think of me for what I do.
Don’t care what other people think.
It goes back to what I mentioned in the other post – we all have to fight our culture’s sublime messages that life does not begin at the nanosecond of conception.
I did have the opportunity to seem my unborn baby, I embraced it as a blessing, and I treated my baby like a baby.
I talked to her. Later I buried her. And I read scripture. And I sang. And I prayed out loud.
Just like I would with any other of my children.
3. Tell her to go ahead and name her baby.
This never occurred me.
We were sitting in small group, and the same friend mentioned that she named her unborn baby. I didn’t know that was okay, either. Again, the way the world gets into my head so slyly.
So we named our baby. His or her name is Kade.
4. Tell her to buy something that commemorates her baby’s life – something that will cause her to remember him/her when she looks at it.
Again, this was priceless advice I received, and I never thought about it.
It can be a Christmas ornament or a necklace with a special pendant or charm. It can be a charm for a charm bracelet. It can really be anything.
My friend told me that it doesn’t even have to mean anything to anybody else. Like it doesn’t have to have the baby’s name on it. But can be something that is just for you.
5. Buy her a small gift to remember her baby’s life.
One afternoon, just recently, the mail came. In the mailbox was a package from a sweet friend who lives in Georgia. Inside was a note attached to a wrapped gift. The note simply said that our friends were praying for us during this season. Of course it happens to be Christmas time, too.
When I opened the gift it was a Willow tree ornament of a praying girl. Something that I will always remember from the year our baby left us.
I don’t think I will pack it up with the other Christmas ornaments, though. That one will stay out all year.
6. Bring her dinner.
Several friends offered to bring us dinner. For me, dinner is always nice. It’s just one less thing to think about.
7. Send her a card.
I’m a card person. So for any occasion, I appreciate cards more than anything else. The most special cards I received included scripture verses and prayers prayed over me. They’re priceless.
8. Tell her to make a memory album.
Soon I will make a memory album of my baby’s life. I had already taken my “1 Month Picture” of my soon-to-grow belly. I also have pictures of my two-year-old announcing to the world that she’s going to be a big sister. I will also put in the album pictures from the day I buried our baby and cards that we received from friends and family.
What would you add to this list? What has helped you? Tell us in the comments.
You may enjoy these related posts: “Why I’m Announcing My Pregnancy at 5 Weeks” and “The Miscarriage: Another Chapter in My Story“
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