The Miscarriage of A Child
by Jerry Whitlow
June 25, 1988 was a special day for me as it was the day I married my best friend, Dreama Wagoner. Once again, a young couple was starting out in life looking forward to what the Lord had in store for them in the days ahead. I was serving as a youth director in a church nearby, and my wife was working alongside. We both were teaching in a Christian school, and I was attending college. It was a busy time, but a time we both were enjoying together.
August 23, 1991 was a day to be remembered. It was the birth of our daughter Kristin. Even to this day I find myself in tears thinking of how blessed we were to have this young girl in our lives. Kristin was the highlight of our lives as we walked this journey together. The nighttime feedings, diaper changes, and wrestling with a car seat were challenges for a young couple. However, she was our bundle of joy, and we knew we had been blessed by God.
May 3, 1994 was another day to be remembered. It was the birth of our second daughter Lauren. We were living in Collinsville, Virginia, at the time. I was pastoring an Independent Baptist church and attending Bible college, while my wife was a stay at home mom taking care of our children. Things seemed to be getting busier but going great as we were serving the Lord and growing a family. However, things were soon to change.
In November of 1996, my wife informed me we were having another baby. Excitement once again ran through our home. I wonder if we will have a boy or girl this time? Although I did not admit it, deep down I was wishing for a little boy with whom I could share my time and hobbies.
My wife and I started a family tradition shortly after being married. Each year we would drive to Tanglewood Park in Winston-Salem, North Carolina and see the Christmas lights between Thanksgiving and Christmas. It was a tradition we maintained for many years. The girls loved seeing the lights as we would drive through the park and then stop for hot chocolate and a personalized ornament for our tree. Plus, we never returned home without going to Krispy Kreme Donuts. This was a wonderful tradition we enjoyed every year.
In December of 1996, we started on our journey to Tanglewood Park for our normal Christmas tradition. However, the trip did not go as expected. While going through the park, my wife told me that something was wrong with the unborn baby she was now carrying. We immediately left the park and went home. She tried to rest that evening, hoping and praying all would be okay. However, that was not to be the case.
The next morning, she was still in pain, so I took her to the doctor. She had experienced a miscarriage. Devastation and discouragement immediately came into our home. Questions began to sweep through our minds. What had we done to cause such a tragedy? Could we have prevented this from happening? What would happen next? People tried to encourage us, but it seemed every word spoken was like a spear to the heart. Nothing seemed to take the pain away.
The biggest question on our mind was, “Where is this little child?” I believe life begins with conception. Jeremiah 1:5 says, “Before I formed thee in the belly I knew thee; and before thou camest forth out of the womb I sanctified thee”. This little one, whom we had never seen, was a living human being. So where is this child today? Again, this question is one that many families face at some point in their lifetime.
Where are the sixty-million aborted babies? Where are the babies which were lost due to miscarriage? Where are the children that died early in life before truly understanding the gospel of Jesus Christ? Are these children lost forever or has our gracious and loving LORD made provision for such as these?