Finding Joy at Christmas After Pregnancy & Infant Loss

by Nicolette Shipley

December is a magical time. This month has always brought priceless time with family, amazing food, thoughtful presents, and weeks of movie nights. If you’re not quoting Kevin McCalister or crying when George Bailey goes home, is it even the holidays?!

Then I became a mom and birthed my first child on a cold December day that also happened to be my mom’s birthday. Magic on magic! Four years later I became pregnant again. We quickly found out that our second child was set to arrive just a day after our daughter did. We couldn’t believe the timing of it all!

Then we lost that baby, whom we’d named Rose, eight weeks into the pregnancy. Somehow, we had to juggle our grief, the happiness of our daughter’s 5th birthday and the joy of the most magical time of the year. I wanted to curl up into a ball and shut out the world. Sometimes I did.

It seems almost cruel the way the rest of the world moves on while you’re still trying to put one foot in front of the other. As the holidays approached, I prayed that God would meet me right where I was. I did not want to put on a fake smile, nor did I want to feel like Eeyore the whole season. I wanted joy and grief to be two sides of the same coin. I wanted to grieve when I needed to and celebrate and rejoice when I could. I begged the Lord to help me through it. This is what I learned and how I found hope and genuine joy during our first holiday season after loss.

But first, I’ll preface with: it’s so much easier said than done.

Even though I’m the one writing about what I said and did, it’s still a battle for me. Grief is messy and hard. I didn’t live this out perfectly then nor do I live it perfectly now. But God can handle us and all our feelings.

Now onto the rest.

I found hope in scriptures in both written and musical forms.

Lamentations and the Psalms teach us how to grieve. However, in the midst of deep grief I felt it difficult to sit and read my Bible and journal like I had before losing Rose. In those times, it was helpful to listen to scripture being read and to musicians who would sing the psalms. It’s comforting to see Biblical heroes struggle and wail at the Lord yet end their weeping with everlasting truth. They spoke truth to themselves, and it encouraged me to do the same. I wailed at God. I processed with trusted people and a counselor. I repeated the psalmists’ words. Psalms 34, 46, 73 and 91 helped me navigate the dark waters of grief:

Psalm 34:18 “The Lord is near to the broken hearted and saves the crushed in spirit.”

Psalm 46:1,10 “God is our refuge and strength, a very present help in trouble.”…10 “Be still and know that I am God.”

Psalm 76:26, 28 “My flesh and my heart may fail, but God is the strength of my heart and my portion forever,” … “But for me, it is good to be near God; I have made the Lord God my refuge, that I may tell of all your works.”

Psalm 94:19 “When the cares of my heart are many, your consolations cheer my soul.”

I cried and yelled at God. I told the Lord how angry and hurt I was. I told him how unfair it all felt that others could keep having biological babies and our chance was done in the blink of an eye. It was healing to lay it all out there and be buoyed by truth.

I found hope in songs and hymns.

Music is powerful. And just as I found comfort in the stories the psalmists shared, I found comfort in artists singing through their own grief and questions. Songs like “Weep With Me” by Rend Collective, “Sovereign Over Us” by the Worship Initiative and “The Story I’ll Tell” by Maverick City Music helped me sing through my grief. There’s something sacred about hymns that have been sung by Christians for generations. And one of my favorite Christmas hymns has always been “Hark the Herald Angels Sing”. This hymn hit home in a new way after our miscarriage. After loss you can’t help but sing this line differently: “Born that man no more may die. Born to raise the sons of earth. Born to give us second birth.”

Death cannot and will not have the final say in our stories.

And I found hope in a mother.

During Christmas we always think of Mary. We sing of her and remember the gift she was entrusted to carry. And yet, sometimes we forget in the sparkle of Christmas lights that that baby was born to die. A sacrificial lamb wrapped in swaddling clothes. Christmas wouldn’t have its meaning if Good Friday never happened. It’s easy to skim over the mention of Jesus’ mother during the crucifixion and I have to admit, I often did. But I started to see Mary differently after losing our baby. No one wants to see their child hurt or suffer. Ask any parent who has watched their child suffer in any way and they proclaim they would gladly change places with their child.

After walking through our traumatic loss, I found solace in the fact our baby didn’t suffer. I rejoiced in knowing that when our baby entered heaven, the first thing she saw was Jesus. She only knew love and peace. But the same is not true for Mary’s son. Mary had to watch her son be ridiculed, mocked, and beaten. She had to stand there and hold onto John, one of Jesus’ disciples, and watch her son die a slow and painful death. And yet, she never waivered. She trusted God and His plan. Yes, three days later her Son Jesus conquered the power of sin, death and Satan by rising from the grave! That has life changing eternal consequences for all who believe. But, she still had to lose her son. She trusted that the same God who chose her to carry the Savior also chose her for the rest of the journey. He chose her to be a bereaved mother. He chose her for all of it. He is deliberate and purposeful, and He chose her.

The same God who chose me to carry our first child safely to term is the same God who chose me to carry Rose for eight weeks. The same God who walked me through hours of labor and a c-section the first time around, is the same God who saw me through a ruptured ectopic pregnancy the second time around. The same God who chose me to carry both miracles is the same God who has chosen me for the rest of the journey. He has entrusted me to be a steward of what he has given me: a beautiful five-year-old girl to disciple and raise and the grief that comes from losing our pregnancy and our fertility overnight.

And so, I practice what the psalmists did and I sing to my soul. And oftentimes, in and out of Christmas holidays, this hymn encourages me and it lifts my eyes heaven-ward when I’m sad and mourning all we’ve lost…

“Come, Thou long expected Jesus
Born to set Thy people free;
From our fears and sins release us,
Let us find our rest in Thee…”

Lord God, by thine all sufficient merit, be with the grieving mothers. Let us find our rest in Thee. Guide us through this holiday season. And one day, would you raise us to Thy glorious throne? There we will find you waiting for us along with our precious babies we lost here on earth but who are safe, healed, and whole with you in heaven. May our hope rest in your unwavering goodness and sovereignty.

Come thou long expected Jesus.

Amen.

meet the author: Nicolette Shipley

My name is Nicolette Shipley. I am an Army wife currently stationed in Georgia with my husband and our 5-year-old daughter. We lost our second child to an ectopic pregnancy that ruptured. And in recent months found out we can no longer have biological children.

Connect with Author: Email Nicolette