One mother's story of infant loss and miscarriage and finding joy and hope again. Meg Walker on The Morning: A community for women finding joy after miscarriage, stillbirth or infant loss.

I am honored to share today’s Story of Hope & Healing featuring Meg Walker.

Meg, thank you for trusting us with your story. I am grateful for your bravery and your joy and your strong words of truth. Thank you for sharing Jacob with us. He is precious.



My husband John-Mark and I live in Richmond, VA, my hometown, where we are in full-time ministry with college students. We love the gift it is to invest in young men and women as we introduce them to Jesus, build them up in their faith, and send them out into their campus and the world with the gospel. I am a big fan of warm weather and the beach, meaningful conversations with those I love, and spending time with my family. The greatest honor of my life is being a mom of two with babies in Heaven. These days I am in a new phase of my motherhood as I have the opportunity to spend most of my time caring for and investing in my youngest, a sweet baby girl.


I was 16 weeks pregnant and received a phone call from my doctor on a Friday evening – which is never a good feeling. My blood screen – that I had done earlier that week on a whim – had been flagged, and she had already scheduled an in-depth ultrasound for me the following Wednesday. That Wednesday morning, we watched our baby kick and squirm and flip on the monitor for an hour and fell deeper in love. Then, my doctor looked me in the eyes and tenderly said, “We’re seeing some problems.” Tears fell quietly down my face and I held my husband’s hand as she explained to me that our baby boy had a neural tube defect called acrania (and anencephaly). His skull had not fully developed and therefore his brain could not as well. If we were able to carry to term, and if he was able to survive childbirth, we would have less than 24 hours with him, most likely. That was the day that has decidedly marked the “befores” and “afters” of my life.

In the process of anticipatory grief and planning for both Jacob’s birth and his death, I learned that joy and sorrow can go hand in hand. We were cared for by an incredible local perinatal hospice & palliative care group that walked us through the next five months before he was born (and many more after). We made decision after decision, and my love for my baby grew as rapidly as my tummy. Jacob came quickly and beautifully into the world after his due date on February 9, 2016. Although at first he wasn’t breathing, as our nurse lifted him up onto my chest, he took his first breath and I – through tears – exclaimed, “This is my son! It’s Jacob’s birthday!” So began one of the very best days of our lives.

We had seven hours with Jacob before he went to be with Jesus, taking his last breath on my chest, just as he had his first. In those seven hours, we loved him, made memories with him, bathed and clothed him, introduced him to our family and friends, and never stopped smiling. It was simply the best. But the next day, I walked into my house with empty arms. My house never had seemed so quiet. It continued to haunt me. Jacob had changed me. I was a mother, but a mother without a baby to care for. I grieved. I wept. I ached. But, oh, how I loved.

Ten months later, when I was ten weeks pregnant, we heard words again we never wanted to hear. “I’m sorry. There’s no heartbeat.” Miscarriage after infant loss just felt cruel. Painful. Heartbreaking. I became numb in the shock and the pain. Again, I left the hospital with empty arms. Again, I walked back into my house without my child. Again, everything was too quiet. Jacob had a little sibling now, but his sibling was with him in Heaven, and not with me on Earth.

Experiencing miscarriage after losing a newborn was so confusing to me. I didn’t know how to grieve it. The losses were different and they felt different, but they were so painful in their own ways. They have shaped me and changed me. I look forward to the day when we are reunited around the Throne, and until then, I will continue to walk (or limp!) along this path of healing.

One mother's story of infant loss and miscarriage and finding joy and hope again. Meg Walker on The Morning: A community for women finding joy after miscarriage, stillbirth or infant loss.


It becomes beautiful. People would tell me early on that I would never stop grieving. In some ways, that was refreshing. I would always have this ache in my heart that was truly a sign of my love for my babies. But, at the same time, it was daunting. I remember thinking, “You mean, I never will stop hurting??” I just wanted to go back to normal. I hated the feeling of grief. I hated not feeling “like myself” anymore. I didn’t realize that I am still myself, but that Jacob’s life has changed me, and so naturally, grief changes me, too. As time has gone on, the grief is still there. It’s still heavy. It’s still not my favorite thing in the world and it is NO exchange for my son. However, there is this special, intimate, sweet, beautiful depth of love and longing for him and for Heaven that I have now that has changed me. My capacity for love has grown and my relationship with God has deepened (eventually) and perspective has shifted. I’m beginning to see the beauty that grief brings.


Honestly, now that we are farther away from Jacob’s life, and we have a new baby at home, I rarely get asked about him and his life anymore. But I love talking about my son. I love it when people ask questions about him or when they graciously allow me to tell the story of his birth and life and all the sweet memories we had with him even if they’ve heard it a few times. I would love to hear, “Tell me about Jacob – what was he like?” or “His birthday seemed so sweet… what were your favorite memories?” or even “What do you think was the hardest thing about the days that followed after his birth?” I want to gush over him, just like I get to with my daughter. It just doesn’t always feel as “normal”.

One mother's story of infant loss and miscarriage and finding joy and hope again. Meg Walker on The Morning: A community for women finding joy after miscarriage, stillbirth or infant loss.


In the pages of my Bible, new things jump out at me now – and one of them is this theme from the Garden of Eden through Revelation that God is WITH us. He showed me that so tangibly in my grief and it shifted from being an abstract concept to me to something so profound. Jesus is Emmanuel, God with us. I’ve taken great comfort from that aspect of God’s character. After beginning to think through this, I was reading in Revelation 21 and the classic verse that people often share about the New Heaven & New Earth – “He will wipe every tear from their eyes, and death shall be no more, neither shall there be mourning, nor crying, nor pain anymore…” For some reason, that always ended up feeling shallow to me over time – until I noticed the sentence before: “Behold! The dwelling place of God is WITH man. He will dwell WITH them, and they will be His people, and God Himself will dwell WITH them as their God.” All the sudden, everything changed. God being WITH me preceded the promise of no sorrow or tears or death anymore. He’s with me now, even with my tears and especially in the face of death, but He’ll be with me then, still. He’s still the prize. In Heaven and on Earth.

One mother's story of infant loss and miscarriage and finding joy and hope again. Meg Walker on The Morning: A community for women finding joy after miscarriage, stillbirth or infant loss.


So many things I would want to share with another mom in grief. Here are just a few.
Firstyou are seen. If by no one else, you are seen in the depths of your pain and in the deep aches of your heart by God. He sees you and He cares – even if it feels like you’re all alone. Your loss is not in vain and your grief is not worthless. You aren’t alone, and although no one truly has your exact situation… there is a God who promises that He sees you in it and that He’s with you.
Second rest in grace. I know that you are likely feeling quite anxious and overwhelmed, maybe by today and maybe at the thought of the future. God says His grace is sufficient for you. It is. He has given you all the grace you need for today… but He hasn’t given you tomorrow’s grace yet. That grace will come. And it will be enough. But for now, just “do the next thing” (Elisabeth Elliot), rest in grace, and give yourself the freedom that God gives – to weep, to wrestle, to be. He will not let you go.
And lastlyyou are loved. You are so deeply loved. Your baby is loved. Your loss is not a result of your lack or your body failing or your shortcomings or your sin. Babies shouldn’t die. But even though yours has, God loves you and your child more than you can imagine, and somewhere, in the midst of it all, He says He’s with you and He’s your God. You are a brave, strong, and incredible mom… and you are so wanted, so needed, and so loved.
Thank you for sharing your story with us Meg. We are so grateful.