Crisis of Faith

*Trigger Warning: this post discusses a sudden pregnancy loss*

A diagram of an ectopic pregnancy

I can safely say that the month of March 2007 was the hardest, most painful month I have ever experienced in this lifetime. I have always been a person with pretty unshakable faith in the good of the world. I firmly believed that everything happens for a reason and that there is a gift in every experience, no matter how painful. But this experience really pushed me to the edge of my faith. What is the gift in this painful, frightening experience?

On March 4, 2007, I woke with excruciating pain in my lower abdomen. My husband and I had just recently found out that we were pregnant, after trying for almost two years. My heart filled with fear that something might be wrong with the pregnancy. As I doubled over in pain, I couldn’t believe the amount of pain the human body could withstand. As if on cue, I passed out
cold, showing that the body does have a limit to the amount of pain it can withstand.

In that moment, I was in a beautiful field of grass, lying on my back with the sun on my face. I felt so good. My husband was lying next to me, looking at me the way he does when he is about say something goofy and sweet and romantic. “I like it here,” I thought. I had completely forgotten the pain I was in right before I passed out.

I awoke on the cold, bathroom floor with my head pounding from where I slammed it against the wall when I passed out. I crawled back to the bedroom, because every time I tried to get up, I passed out again. I woke my husband up (which took some time!) and told him that something was terribly wrong. After speaking to the advice nurse, we were soon in the car, driving to the emergency room.

The next 24 hours passed in a blur of pain and morphine and ultrasounds and lots of poking and prodding and pricking of my arms and body. The doctors on call weren’t sure how many weeks I was with child. I was right at that critical edge between being able to see the embryo and not being able to see it. If I was four weeks, there was nothing to see, but if I was six weeks, and they couldn’t see the embryo, then it was growing in a place it should not be.

Although the ER doctor dismissed my condition as “morning sickness,” and discharged me, my body wasn’t going to stand for that...literally! Every time I tried to get up and put my clothes back on, I would pass out. Finally, my blood work came back from the lab and showed that I was indeed six and half weeks pregnant. The embryo growing in my body should have been easy to see on the scan, but that little tiny apple seed of cells was nowhere to be found.

This told the doctors that something was terribly wrong, so they immediately readmitted me. I was informed that I had a tubal pregnancy. This occurs when the fertilized egg from the ovary does not implant itself normally in the uterus. Instead, the egg develops in the fallopian tube, one of the two tubes that transport the egg from the ovary to the uterus. When this happens, the embryo cannot develop into a fetus.

a page from my grief journal around
my pregnancy loss

I was quickly prepped for surgery. I was frightened and heartbroken that this new life that was growing inside me had to be terminated. This was the first time I had been in surgery since I got my tonsils out when I was 19 years old.

When I awoke, I was surrounded by people I loved and cared about. The looks on their faces told me that things did not go well. I found out upon awakening, as I slowly came off the anesthetic and painkillers, that when they looked inside my body, they discovered that the tube had ruptured. This meant that they had to cut open my abdomen and take the entire tube out—a serious complication of a tubal, (also called ectopic) pregnancy. When hemorrhaging (severe bleeding) occurs within
the abdomen, it can be extremely dangerous because a large artery runs on the outside of each fallopian tube. One of these arteries did rupture, causing me to bleed severely; I lost over 3 pints of blood.

During recovery I developed a serious infection in my incision; this often occurs in emergency surgery, when the patient cannot be prepped properly. As my husband rushed me back to the emergency room for a second time, I cried in the deepest of despair. Even though the hospital saved my life, it hurt my heart and soul so deeply to be going back to this place of cold metal and empty walls.

During both hospitalizations I was kept on the maternity ward, where I was surrounded by newborn babies. Nurses would continuously call me “mom,” thinking I had just given birth. I cried out at night, screaming at God. “Why are you putting me through this? What possible good can come
out of so much pain?”

Although I cannot answer these questions completely, I have in fact experienced some miracles through this whole ordeal. One of the most amazing gifts is feeling even more deeply how much my husband loves and cares for me. He has been truly amazing through this journey. I was thankful for my husband even before this happened, and I didn’t think I was capable of loving or appreciating him more—but I am and I do. I wish I could nominate him for the Nobel Prize for Loving Husband! Thank you Justin!

Coming through this experience has also put many things in my life into perspective. We live in an extraordinary time. In most other times and places, I definitely would have died. I am so thankful and amazed to be alive. I had excellent doctors who made sure that I lived through the emergency surgery they had to give me. Technology, skill, and knowledge saved my life. When I experience moments of despair, I remember that fact. When I feel that my life is worthless and full of pain, I remember that these amazing doctors fought for my life. My husband, parents and friends fought for my life by caring for me and loving me unconditionally.

My perspective has shifted in all parts of my life. I feel so thankful now when I walk outside and feel the sun on my face, or cuddle up with my cat and listen to him purr, feeling the warmth of his belly against my face. These simple experiences are all gifts.

Just like most people, I have to work to bring in money. Much of my work is focused on my ministry and I love it, but there are parts of my work that feel a little more disconnected. After having to miss over a month of work, I am realizing what I miss and what I don’t. My life is far too precious to be spending doing work that doesn’t feed my soul and inspire me. I have made a deep promise to myself that when I am strong enough to go back to work, I will only do work that feeds me and makes
me feel whole.

Another page from my Grief Journal

There is still so much healing for me to do. My husband and I have begun dealing with the grief of losing our pregnancy. As I sit with the loss of this life inside me, I wonder: was it even a life? At six and half weeks, the heart had just formed and was starting to beat. The embryo was about the size of an apple seed and growing rapidly. The umbilical cord was developed. The eyes and ears were starting to form as well as an opening for the mouth. The heart had begun to pump blood and most of the other organs were well under construction. Buds were forming on the body to become arms and legs.


Is this life? Or was this embryo inside me still just a mass of cells? Or was it both? Did this little life have a soul? Or does that come later? Why did this life come to me, and leave so quickly? I have heard many different theories, as I have asked these questions of my friends. Some say that instead of a baby I had “an angel.” Others say that some souls can only come for a limited time and that I somehow “signed up” unknowingly to host one of these souls. I actually don’t have any “answers”, and my feelings are mixed, but I continue to work with these ideas and thoughts and feelings as I find my way to my own truth.

I also continue the journey through my “crisis of faith.” Amazingly enough, I find that as my body heals, my spirit is healing as well. I find that I still have faith in the good of the world. I still have
faith that experience has more gifts to give me than I can even imagine. And I still believe that God loves me. I’m amazed that I can feel this, when there was so much pain and anger (which is still very present!).

I am learning so much about patience and loving myself through this healing process. It is so
easy for me to want to rush this experience...to hurry up and get “back to normal.” But I will never be “normal”—not in the sense of being the person I was before. This experience has changed me, and I will never, ever forget it.

I have only just begun to make art around this experience. My energy level is still quite low (not to mention the difficulty of sitting up for long periods of time), so I have just started to do some drawing and writing in my journal. I know that the art will come in time.

I welcome your prayers of healing, and I would love to hear from any and all of you who have gone through similar experiences. What was your healing process like? How did your spiritual life change?

Some Helpful Books About Pregnancy Loss

“Grief Unseen: Healing Pregnancy Loss Through the Arts”  by Laura Seftel

“Unspeakable Losses: Healing From Miscarriage, Abortion, And Other Pregnancy Loss”  by Kim Kluger-Bell

“Trying Again: A Guide to Pregnancy After Miscarriage, Stillbirth, and Infant Loss” by Ann Douglas