When a Baby Dies

“We just left our appointment after the baby’s scheduled scan. Nothing looks good.”

My friend’s news took my breath.

“Please pray,” she continued. “I know you know what this feels like.”

How fast the memories flood in of saying good-bye to my baby before having much chance to say hello.

October is Pregnancy and Infant Loss Awareness Month. Designated as a time to remember and honor those who have lost a baby during pregnancy or infancy, the month brings awareness and education about infant loss due to causes that include miscarriage, stillbirth, birth defects, preterm birth, and Sudden Infant Death Syndrome (SIDS).

As I moved into the fifth month of pregnancy, I became keenly aware that something had changed. There was no butterfly kick. No more I-better-get-something-to-eat-before-I-eat-the-dashboard appetite. The clothes my growing belly had outgrown suddenly fit again.

At the quickly made medical appointment, the doctor searched for a heartbeat until the batteries in the fetal doptone were drained. The silence confirmed my fears. My baby had died.

The sad news caught my children completely by surprise. Feeling awash in grief, we gathered in the family room and cried. The children named the baby Trust because we were learning to trust God when we didn’t understand.

A friend connected me to another mother who had lost her infant at 16 weeks gestation. When we spoke on the phone, I felt comforted to talk openly about my faith, fears, and questions. She provided wise words honed from experience and her professional life as a professor of physiology.

“What are your plans,” she asked, “for the baby’s arrival?”

That’s when my family and I stopped waiting for a miscarriage and began preparation for an early birth.

When a baby dies, our tears can be the only water in the dry desert of grief. Each of my children grieved differently.

My eight-year-old spent a Saturday afternoon crafting a piece of California redwood into a small casket barely larger than a bread pan. To line the miniature box, my fourteen-year-old stitched a doll-sized blanket from a piece of my wedding dress. The eleven-year-old collected dried petals from the many floral arrangements friends had sent and the five-year-old cut yellow-and-white-checked cotton to swaddle the baby. My oldest, who was in training as an EMT, helped gather birth supplies.

Each family member dealt differently with their grief. My husband was emotionally distant. Two children cried often and another was angry with God. My oldest daughter and I found comfort doing what each day required on our on-going to-do list.

My middle child had planned to share favorite things with this new sibling, from the best fishing spot to the tree fort in the woods.

“Now your younger sibling has taken an early journey home,” I said. “This special person is waiting for your future arrival in heaven with big plans to show you the wonders there.”

Medically Speaking

Years ago, information about how long until a mother’s body miscarries after a baby has died in utero was sketchy. With current medical technology, parents and their medical team know a baby’s condition early. My friends were alerted to life-threatening developments when they were less than halfway through their pregnancy.

Then came the results from the 20-week scan. Commonly done between weeks 18 and 22, the anatomy screening scan looks at the baby’s developing abdomen, bones, brain, face, heart, kidneys, and spinal cord. The sonographer measures the limbs, organs, and circumference of the baby’s head.

In addition to evaluating the size for the gestational age, the scan is instrumental in the early diagnosis of conditions including

Anencephaly

Cleft lip

Congenital heart abnormalities

Diaphragmatic hernia (a hole in the diaphragm)

Indicators for Down syndrome or trisomy 18 and trisomy 13

Gastroschisis (intestinal issues)

Omphalocele (an issue in with the abdominal wall)

Renal agenesis (missing one or both kidneys)

Spina bifida

For my friends, the anatomy scan revealed the baby’s sex. We could talk about the baby by name. And the peek inside the womb confirmed their worst fears.

“Our little baby won’t make it after all,” my friend shared. “When the baby dies, they will induce labor.”

Rugged Recovery

My doctor and I opted for the mildest form of intervention to induce my labor. On a spring day, my baby was born peacefully. The size of my hand, her body was perfect and lovely. The only part missing was life.

Each of my daughters has a flower in her name, and Violet was the unanimous choice, especially appropriate because in her perfect petiteness, she resembled the spring violets in full bloom when she was born. Violet Trust.
I’m thankful that my doctor took the time to let me know that I would grieve emotionally while my body would also have adjustments. When a pregnancy is interrupted, the natural process and accompanying hormones experience a shocking shift. The multi-faceted loss can be rugged emotionally and physically.

After the baby is delivered, the mom faces the usual recovery from birth in addition to the added stresses of empty arms. One mom’s milk came in for nursing as she attended the funeral for her child.

I have a photo of my tiny daughter next to my wedding ring. We tenderly swaddled her in the yellow and white checked cloth and wrapped her in the white satin blanket. After we placed her in the redwood casket, the box was only half-full. The children added their handmade yarn dolls, bead necklaces, colored pictures, and dried flower petals. Violet was surrounded by gifts of love from her family and friends.

We read aloud poems and Scripture friends had sent to encourage our hearts. We prayed and sang worship songs.

An Early Journey Home

Does time really heal our wounds? In my experience, time merely teaches me how to live with this gaping hole in my heart.

Everything within me protested as we laid Violet in her final resting place. I didn’t want my baby to be cold, wet, or alone.

A Rose of Sharon bush and a multitude of purple and white woods violets mark her grave. I stop by that special spot and wonder.

Friends did not know what to say to ease my pain. Yet my family and I felt comforted that they cared. I’m grateful for the short time we had with Violet. Heaven is more precious because I have an investment there.

On Violet’s one-year birthday, I visited her grave. In my arms, I held her newborn baby sister. Another child never replaces the one that is too soon gone. I told my new baby about her older sister, Violet.

More Loss

But there may not be another pregnancy and hoped-for baby for my friends. Chromosomal issues are a serious conversation they are having with their medical team and genetic counselor. Should they decide future pregnancies are not worth the risk, this dear couple will have yet another devastating loss. They will mourn the hoped-for children who will not join their family. They will have an additional hole in their heart.

Through time and grace, I’ve seen God take the big hole in my heart and artfully weave it into the fabric of my life. I first saw this divine work in the gentle and generous words of the physiology professor who helped me see more than my pain.

When we are willing to help carry another’s burden, perhaps it will not feel so heavy.

Caring people around my friends have scheduled to bring meals for their family for several weeks. This kindness will nurture body and spirit as they try to take in these unexpected and unwanted changes in their hearts and lives. Her employer has given extended time off work to attend to the many items on the to-do list that come with saying goodbye to a baby who died before getting to say hello. Time for her body and soul to rest and recover.

What Do I Say When A Baby Dies?

When someone loses a baby, what do I say? How can I be the hands of comfort and grace to someone suffering loss?

From my own experience, I know there are no words that will make my friends’ situation better. Yet, I can be with them in their grief. Letting someone who is grieving talk when they want to is a gift. Talking can be part of processing. When my neighbors returned home from the hospital after labor and delivery with empty arms, I took over a meal containing comfort foods.

“We held him for several hours.” The father showed me a photo and pointed to a couple of features. “You can see indications of being a trisomy baby in these places.” He brushed away a tear. “But we would have kept him.”

His wife later confided, “When our baby died, felt most comforted by those who just cried with me.”

Ecclesiastes 4:10 says, “For if they fall, one will lift up his fellow. But woe to him who is alone when he falls and has not another to lift him up.”

Know that grief that comes when a baby dies will not disappear in three months

Gently ask if the couple is doing okay in their relationship. The death of a child is one of the hardest strains on a relationship. When both are drowning in grief, it is common to look for comfort from a spouse. Yet, two drowning people cannot save one another. Connecting with skilled and caring support can be a source of help and healing.


I would never have wanted the physiology professor to say goodbye to her baby at 16 weeks gestation. But from her experience, she was able to say the words that changed how my family and I viewed our loss. Sometimes the best consolation comes from one who has been there, the one who is ahead of me on the journey.

In God’s economy, our sufferings are not wasted. 2 Corinthians 1:3–4 illustrates, “Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of mercies and God of all comfort, 4 who comforts us in all our affliction, so that we may be able to comfort those who are in any affliction, with the comfort with which we ourselves are comforted by God.”

During those dark hours when someone has had to say goodbye to a baby before much chance to say hello, we are called not to be experts but to come alongside. On the journey of grief we will meet fellow travelers. Perhaps we can walk a while together.