The cruelty of a miscarriage

May we put the ruthless adversary on the stand. May we challenge it for a moment. If by some chance we may find a little relief from the anguish branded into the soul. Was it too much to look the other way when Chrissy and John prayed for one more heartbeat? If the prayer was discounted for something that had to do with mama and papa, did Jack’s innocence not nullify all that? Didn’t his helplessness and vulnerability strengthen his case. His own case to be given a chance to live.

Why give them any chance to hope when it would all come crashing down? Suddenly. Taking out the air and letting them almost choke on tears. Of course, tears can be good for the soul but who need tears when they cannot wash away scars as easily as other moving body of water impact the status of the objects on their path.

Yet the flaunting prowess of a miscarriage will be dwarfed by the tender communications of other authentic claimants to life on this plane. Everyone reading this has survived the cruelty of a miscarriage and is already armed with effective tools to push it back every time it rears it ugly head and steals one of our most precious gifts. Tools of solidarity, understanding, prayer and faith. Tools of gratitude for the life we have, and especially for the gifts called the children in our lives must now be deployed now as appropriate.

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