Karen’s Infant Loss Stories


These stories of infant loss come from a friend I know from the church we used to attend when we lived in Michigan. Karen and her husband Tom are some of the most generous and giving people I’ve ever met.

When I revealed the loss of our first baby publicly, Karen wrote me a message of sympathy, sharing her own grief-filled stories of loss and offering an understanding heart which I so appreciated.

My heart was moved by the tragedies she had experienced with two of her pregnancies. I know there are plenty of moms out there who have also had this horribly painful experience and need the comfort of another woman who understands. Karen is an example of the hope and encouragement that can come out of heartbreak.

Here are her stories …

Karen is an example of the hope and encouragement that can come out of heartbreak.

I always wanted to be a mother. All through my childhood I played being a mommy. When Tom and I started our home, we both looked forward to being parents, promising together that our roles as Christian parents would take precedence over our careers and our other roles in life.

After we’d been married 2 years, I developed some unusual symptoms and finally, after 3 months of these, the doctor changed his mind and said yes, I really was 3 ½ months pregnant. We sure were excited. But our excitement was replaced by anxiety when, at 4 ½ months, I experienced some problems.

Then, after 6 weeks of doctors and being on and off bedrest, I developed a severe infection and delivered, 4 months early, a perfectly formed 1 ½ lb. little girl. We cried together with those who loved us as Jennifer Lynn died peacefully 3 ½ hours later.

I went home, with empty arms, on Christmas Day, 1972. Our pain turned to anticipation when we found out we were again expecting. Our pain, however, returned when, after this baby started to move and we could feel its little kicks, I again started having problems.

Again, there were 6 weeks in bed – this time with 3 hospitalizations. And again, 16 weeks early, with Tom by my side, I gave birth to 1 lb. 13 oz. Kezia Anne on December 18. Kezia Anne, named for our mothers, lived just 1 ½ hours, and again, with more tears, we went home to try to celebrate another Christmas with empty arms.

We cried a lot in the next few months, but we continued to feel God’s comforting arms around us. On a March evening, after many tests, the doctor called and said, “I have some good news. We can fix your problem. But it means surgery and you’ll always have to have c-sections.” I said, “Wonderful – when can I have the surgery?”

I had it April 1st that year. But months and months went by – turning to years. I was on fertility drugs for many, many months, but still no baby. This was a very difficult time for us as we waited and prayed, waited and prayed. It was a difficult time.

Finally, in early November, 1975 I went to the doctor after more tests and he said, “Karen, you have less than a 10% chance of ever even becoming pregnant again.” Tears streamed down my face and I remember sitting at a stoplight at the corner of ‘L’ and 60th Streets in Omaha, Nebraska, where we then lived, saying, “All right, Lord, how hard do you have to hit me over the head to show me you have a different plan for my life?” I then felt peace.

So we started filling out forms to file for adoption. We had already discussed this a lot and now decided that God wanted us to adopt a child who might otherwise not have a family. So we started the process to adopt a Korean child.

But right around Thanksgiving, we discovered I was again pregnant. Tom and I were alone that Thanksgiving – a snowstorm kept Tom’s brother and his wife from visiting us from Minnesota. But oh, how excited we were. We lived in an apartment next to a golf course. We walked through the deep snow on the golf course on that Thanksgiving Day. Oh, how excited and joyful we were.

But … again … preterm. At 6 months, again, the doctors said I had to stay flat in bed and that I had no hope of carrying this child to term. We were still in Omaha – a long way from our families. Tom was assigned there on a 1 ½ year long special project. He worked such long days that, in those days before 24 hour grocery stores, the only store he could get to was the 7-11.The

But we had wonderful friends from First Covenant Church in Omaha. They brought in meals and visited and they prayed. Family members came to help. I learned to develop a routine of being in bed – dividing my time into blocks for projects, a little reading and very little television. The prayers continued from all over the country.

Bicentennial Day, 1976 – if I made it that far, the chances were much better. We celebrated by going out for dinner as the bells rang out. On July 28, I entered the hospital with everyone saying if this baby is born – not when this baby is born.

Remember those prayers – well, Peter was certainly big enough at 9 lbs 7 oz. But I hemorrhaged severely and finally, after 10 days of blood transfusions and hospitalization, we took Peter home. He was such a colicky baby and many nights I sat up much of the night rocking him saying, “Lord, I said I’d give anything for a baby. Help me give a few hours of sleep.”

We returned home to Michigan just in time to celebrate a happy Christmas. The next summer, we discovered Joshua was on the way. This pregnancy only presented, comparatively, a few problems.

God, in His wonderful timing, planned it so I went into labor 3 weeks early – on December 21 – exactly halfway between the birthdays of the 2 baby girls. The same time of the year that had brought so much heartache now brought joy. This time, though, we had a baby who knew how to sleep.

Two years later, again, with weeks in bed and not too smooth a pregnancy, Alicia was born – 5 weeks early. She was small (by Peter’s standards) but, despite being early, had no real problems. Everyone said our family was complete – 3 children in 3 ½ years.

But we remembered our dream of sharing our family with a child who didn’t have a family. We had often spoke of this dream with Peter, Joshua and Alicia as they were growing and it was at their prompting that got us to pursue the adoption. In November, 1989, after a number of hurdles and detours in our lives, Jill joined our family permanently.

So today, I look back and realize that God’s plan was more perfect than mine. As we look forward to seeing our two oldest daughters in heaven, I celebrate Mother’s Day – a day that for many years brought sadness now brings joy. God continues to guide. And, as I’m sure we will face unexpected problems and trials, we remember that God is in control and God is a God of peace.

2 Corinthians 1:3, 4
“Praise be to the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of compassion and the God of all comfort, who comforts us in all our troubles, so that we can comfort those in any trouble with the comfort we ourselves received from God.”

Praise God.

God is still good.

Grief never totally goes away. Every once in a while, even now almost 47 years after our first daughter died shortly after birth, the grief blindsides me. It’s not as intense now- but it does surprise me. Oftentimes it is when we hear of another perinatal loss. Sometimes it comes up without any warning at all.

Recently, I was asked to be the “Secret Reader” at the first-grade class of one our granddaughters – who lives hundreds of miles away. As we were waiting in the hallway while the children tried to figure out who the secret reader was, a teacher came out and introduced herself as Mrs. Smith – and then she caught herself and said, “Oh, just Jennifer to you.”

Suddenly it hit me – she was about the same age as our first-born daughter, Jennifer. It wasn’t really grief I felt – and not even sadness. It was more of surprise that our daughter would be about that age now.

Our living children have been a tremendous blessing to us. Our 2 sons are both married to pastors and are very supportive of their wives’ ministries. Our birth daughter just completed 2 terms as church chair. She works in training in international conflict resolution and has a wonderful Christian husband.

Our adopted daughter has been a blessing in different ways. She is both developmentally delayed and very mentally ill. But she is a Christian, and through her trials, we have seen how God is always there for us – and for her. She lives in a specialized Adult foster care home about a half hour away. The three older children are very attached to her despite the trials we have had with her.

We have 5 grandchildren who live all over the country.

When we see how well they have all done, tears come to my eyes and I think, “If only I could have seen this outcome those many years ago.“

Yes, God is good.

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