The Pain of Unanswered Prayers

**Warning**

This post may be hard for some to read due to the issue of losing a child.

Today’s post may be one of the hardest I have ever written. However, I know that my testimony must be shared. I believe that the things that took place during this time were meant to help someone else who may have gone through the same thing. Please understand that I take no pleasure in sharing such intimate details. My goal is to strictly help someone through their grief and to know that regardless of the pain, God is still right there.

You are not alone.

Let’s begin by redirecting you back to my post regarding my daughter, “A Tangible Miracle.” This post will help you understand some of my physical struggles leading up to having children. Due to those circumstances, we were so excited to be expecting our second child.

In 2012, we found out that we were expecting our second child. Our daughter was almost 3, and we were over the moon. God was allowing us to have another miracle child. We waited for the appropriate time to let everyone know and then began to plan out the future. We kept our regular doctor’s visits and could not wait to find out what we were having. However, little did we know that God had other plans for us and this child.

In January 2013, at 22 weeks, I was scheduled for an ultrasound to find out the gender of the baby. We were all so excited. Both my husband and my daughter joined me that day. It would be the first time that they would both hear the heartbeat. Laying there on the bed while they began the ultrasound, we were all anxiously waiting for the first thump, thump.  

Suddenly, the technician began to look slightly concerned. She asked us to give her a minute; she needed someone to help her with the ultrasound. She was having a hard time finding the heartbeat. My first reaction was that the same thing happened when I was pregnant with my daughter. Yet something in her demeanor was different. My husband noticed as well.

Another technician came in and began working with the machine. Eventually, she spoke. She took my hand and simply stated that they were unable to find a heartbeat. She let me know they needed to call my doctor and decide the next steps.

In that moment, my world stopped.

I did what I could to remain calm. My daughter was in the room. She had no idea what was happening. She was too small. My husband took my hand and began to pray. We both prayed.

However, even though we prayed and believed, when they came back in to verify there was no heartbeat, the answer was still the same. The baby had passed. I was to leave there and go to my doctor immediately for them to decide how to proceed. My doctor’s office was directly across the street from the hospital. I told my husband that I needed to walk there. He took our daughter and went to get the car to allow me some time alone.

As I walked out of that hospital, the first stage of grief hit me. DENIAL!

I refused to believe that God would allow me to lose the miracle He had placed inside of me. I refused to believe that what the technicians had told me was true. I began to weep and pray, asking God to please hear my prayers. Revive this child! That very morning, I thought I had felt movement, so how could the baby be dead?

None of this was true! God would hear my prayer, and He would come through the moment I walked into the doctor’s office. I was believing that she would find the heartbeat that the technicians could not find. I knew that God loved me, so there was no way He was going to allow me to lose this child.

I dried my eyes, went up the elevator to the doctor’s office, and walked in with determination. I was looking for a positive answer. My husband kept my daughter in the car with him so I could have the privacy I needed. He told me that he would be praying. The nurse took me back to a room. The doctor came in and began preparing me to listen for the heartbeat.

There was no heartbeat.

“I’m so sorry, Susan,” was the reply. I lost it. Why?! Why was God allowing this to happen to me?! Hadn’t I been faithful? Hadn’t I just used my faith to believe? Didn’t He say in His Word that if we had the faith as a grain of a mustard seed, we could move mountains? I truly felt my faith was greater than that little ol’ mustard seed. If it was, then why was I not getting the answer I prayed for?

I listened as best I could to what she said next. They were scheduling me to deliver the baby in two days.

Two days! Wouldn’t that give God time to work?

I still held on to the fact that God could still hear my prayers and work a miracle in those two days. He raised Lazarus from the dead in three days. So couldn’t He do the same for me in just two days? I prayed and begged God to please hear my prayer. Let me show up at the hospital, and they suddenly discover a heartbeat. Let the baby be okay and healthy.

The morning of February 1st, 2013, I walked into the hospital with my husband and mother, only for the doctor to tell me that there was still no heartbeat. My heart broke completely. I began to think of all of the things that I might have done wrong to cause this to happen. I blamed myself. It had to be my fault. This baby was innocent. What had I done?

The staff at this hospital were amazing. They were so kind and considerate during the whole process. They grieved with me. The worst part of it all was that I was having to deliver this baby just as I would any other baby. I experienced all of the labor and delivery pains associated with having a healthy baby.

Yet, when the baby was born, he was not alive.

Prior to delivering him, the nurses asked if I wanted to hold him once he was born. My first response was “no.” My mother, however, thankfully asked them to give me a moment to think about it. She convinced me that if I did not hold him, then I would always regret it. I would consistently wonder what he looked like. I finally consented, and I am so glad I did. It helped to give me closure.

The moment they placed him in my arms, I began to weep. I was still hurting and confused. However, I knew that God must have a greater plan that I could not possibly see. I checked out his little hands and feet, his face. I wanted to soak it all in before they took him away. I knew that once they took him away, I would never see him again.

My husband and I finally decided on a name that evening. Samuel, for he was God-called. We knew that God had called him to be with Him, even though we did not understand the reason why.

That night, while in recovery, all I could think about was that I wanted to see my daughter. I asked my husband to please bring her the next morning upon being discharged. He obliged. When she came into the room, she was all smiles. I hugged her so close. I knew I was going to need to lean on the fact that God had still supplied me with one miracle. That was one reason to never give up on Him. 

The days following were not easy. I just wanted to be alone. I didn’t want to speak to anyone, nor did I want to see them. I turned my phone off and simply laid in bed, crying and praying. I needed God to help me make sense of it all. The one Scripture that came to mind was Psalm 113:2.

“Blessed be the name of the Lord from this time forth and for evermore.” King James Version

I clung to it. I knew that God was forever faithful. I knew from the Scripture that it rains on the just and the unjust (Matthew 5:45). I understood that bad things happen to good people. However, the pain was still ever-present.

One morning, I woke with a song in my heart for the first time. “I Still Trust You” by The McFalls. I began to sing in my bedroom the words, “I trust You because You’ve been so faithful to me.” I began to feel a peace flood into the room. I knew in that moment that even in my grief, God was still right there beside me. He was hurting right along with me.

I would love to say that I went right back to living life as usual those next few weeks, but I didn’t. On different occasions, I found myself weeping out of nowhere. I told my husband that I did not want any more children. I did not ever want to experience that type of pain again. I continued going through the motions every day to survive. I knew God was with me, but I just could not feel the happiness that I once felt.

One day, I received a call from a very respected Christian counselor. She simply began to talk to me about things. I can remember being silent and just listening. I honestly didn’t want to talk to anyone about it. Talking about it meant reliving the experience. All I wanted to do was forget that it ever happened. Yet, she persisted in helping me work through my feelings.

She was a Godsend! Over time, I began to open up and share. I started to feel more like myself. And I believe that because of her, I am able to share with you today the grief that I experienced.

Just writing this post brings on the tears, but I can now truly say that even in my darkest moments, God is there. I don’t know exactly why he decided to take Samuel. Yet, I know that my second miracle came three years later to prove that God is still forever faithful.  You can read more about him in my blog post titled “A Tangible Miracle 2.”

The enemy could have used this to pull me away from God and the work we were doing for Him. There could have been so many other outcomes to this situation. However, I chose to believe that God had a greater plan that I could not see.

I want to leave you with a few verses if you have experienced this same grief. Verses that will help you through these hard times. Plus, I want you to know that there is no shame in seeking help through your grief. Find someone you trust and open up your heart to them. There are so many wonderful Christian counselors out there who would love to help you. God is there to help you through it all, but He has also given wisdom to others to help guide you through.

“For his anger endureth but a moment; in his favour is life: Weeping may endure for a night, but joy cometh in the morning.” Psalm 30:5, KJV.

“The Lord is nigh unto them that are of a broken heart; And saveth such as be of a contrite spirit.” Psalm 34:18, KJV.

“He healeth the broken in heart, And bindeth up their wounds.” Psalm 147:3, KJV

“In the day when I cried thou answeredst me, And strengthenedst me with strength in my soul.” Psalm 138:3, KJV.

“For I am persuaded, that neither death, nor life, nor angels, nor principalities, nor powers, nor things present, nor things to come, nor height, nor depth, nor any other creature, shall be able to separate us from the love of God, which is in Christ Jesus our Lord.” Romans 8:38–39, KJV.

“This I recall to my mind, Therefore have I hope. It is of the LORD’s mercies that we are not consumed, Because his compassions fail not. They are new every morning: Great is thy faithfulness. The LORD is my portion, saith my soul; Therefore will I hope in him.” Lamentations 3:21–24, KJV.

“When I said, My foot slippeth; Thy mercy, O LORD, held me up. In the multitude of my thoughts within me Thy comforts delight my soul.” Psalm 94:18–19, KJV.

“For I the LORD thy God will hold thy right hand, saying unto thee, Fear no; I will help thee.” Isaiah 41:13, KJV.

Check out this video of an interview with my husband on his perspective of grief.