What Ben and I lost when Adam died was more than just a pregnancy; he was a person, a human being, created in the image of God, having an eternal soul.
Adam was our first child, our own flesh and blood. His death was a great loss, and because we deeply believe what God’s word says about him, we felt that loss profoundly.
Genesis 1 tells us that God created man in His own image, the pinnacle of His creation. Because of this, every human life has innate value and worth. Adam’s life, even at just 9 weeks gestation, was incredibly valuable.
Psalm 139 tells us that God knitted Adam together in my womb. He was fearfully and wonderfully made. Every day of his short life was written in God’s book, formed and ordained for him before Adam even existed. Adam wasn’t just some clump of cells. He was a unique person, fashioned by God Himself.
Scripture also teaches us that we are eternal beings, each with a soul that lives forever. We will spend eternity either in the lake of fire, separated from God, or dwelling with Him in the new heavens and the new earth, but we will spend eternity somewhere. Adam too has a soul that lives forever.
Each of these realities makes the loss of Adam’s life truly profound. But, in many ways, the culture we live in doesn’t acknowledge the significance of this loss.
Medically, miscarriage is considered a “pregnancy loss.” It’s easier to talk about losing a pregnancy than losing a child.
On a legal level, there is no birth or death certificate for a child lost in miscarriage. Parents and family members don’t normally get to have a memorial, funeral, or burial to publically recognize and honor the life that was lost. On paper, nothing really acknowledges that this person even existed at all.
And many in modern society would even say that the baby we lost was less than human, simply a clump of cells or tissue that could have just as easily been taken through an abortion.
But Adam’s life was precious, valuable, and irreplaceable. The depths of my sorrow merely reflected the heights of his worth.
Psalm 127 tells us that children are a heritage from the Lord, a reward and a blessing. Ben and I believe wholeheartedly that children are a good gift from the Lord, and both of us want many of these blessings to fill our home.
Not only did we lose our first child when Adam died, we lost hopes, dreams, and expectations for our family as well.
For most of my life, I had dreamed of being a stay at home wife and mom. But all of my hopes and dreams for our first child, since the moment we found out I was pregnant, came crashing down the moment we heard the ultrasound tech say “I’m sorry, but I don’t see a heartbeat.”
Full of awe, I had imagined what pregnancy would be like, how amazing it would be to watch my belly grow and my body change as the baby inside of me developed. I thought about bringing our baby home, and watching Ben interact with him or her. I looked forward to cuddling and breastfeeding my baby. But none of that would happen.
Every dream of what our child might look like, the things they would enjoy, what their personality would be like, how their laugh might sound, or what sports or instruments they might play, would forever be dreams, and no more. None of them would ever come true.
When I imagined what our family might look like, I never imagined the heartache and brokenness of miscarriage as a part of the mix. My expectations for a perfect, happy family were dashed.
Our firstborn was dead. There would always be a gap in our family where there should have been a child. There would always be a face missing in family photos, and a person missing at every holiday and family gathering.
Another way that we felt the loss profoundly was in our roles as parents. From the moment we learned that we were expecting, we were mother and father. But suddenly I was a mother with no baby and Ben was a father with no child.
We had these roles, these titles, but no way to live them out. From the outside looking in, we were just newlyweds, a husband and wife. But Adam had made us something more.
Even though we didn’t have a child in our home, we wanted so badly to be acknowledged as the parents we were. And we wanted so badly to live out the roles we felt in our hearts.
Adam’s life was short, but we felt his loss deeply, and in various ways. His death was, and continues to be, a profound loss.