KIM BARNES | CONTRIBUTOR

Twenty-two years ago, I was twenty-three weeks pregnant with our third child. During a routine check-up, my obstetrician discovered that our baby’s heart wasn’t beating. We were heartbroken. That evening, I was admitted to the hospital to induce labor, and by the next morning, I delivered our stillborn baby girl—Hannah. She was tiny, but fully formed. There were no visible problems—nothing to explain what had gone wrong. God had numbered her days. My husband and I held her in our arms, said our goodbyes, and felt the anguish of never getting to know her this side of eternity.

The following summer, we were overjoyed to learn I was pregnant again. It felt like a miracle after the four years of infertility we experienced before our first child was born. But this pregnancy, our fourth, was marked by both joy and apprehension. We were deeply grateful but also carried the scars of our previous loss.

One day, while twenty-six weeks along, I felt anxious. The baby’s movements seemed less frequent, but I assumed it was just my grief from losing Hannah making me overly cautious. I decided to visit the doctor, hoping for reassurance, but it wasn’t the news I hoped for. The next day, I delivered another stillborn baby girl. We named her Charity. The weight of grief was unbearable—we couldn’t believe it was happening again.

In the United States, 1 out of every 4 pregnancies ends in miscarriage, and 1 in every 160 pregnancies ends in stillbirth. October is Infant and Pregnancy Loss Awareness Month, and it is also the month we lost our baby, Hannah. It’s a time for remembrance, reflection on God’s faithfulness, and considering what we learned through these tragic losses.

One thing I’ve come to realize over the years, in talking with other mothers who have faced similar pain, is how often the grief of fathers is overlooked. When a baby is lost, much attention is rightly focused on the mother, given the physical and emotional toll. But the reality is that both parents suffer. Fathers grieve the loss of their baby too, though their grief may look different.

I struggled with this myself. When we lost Hannah and Charity, I found it difficult to talk to my husband, Robert, about the pain. I thought that staying silent would spare him more sorrow, and if I could just push it out of my mind, perhaps the pain would lessen. But in reality, not talking about our shared grief only deepened the hurt—for both of us. In trying to protect him, I was not being kind. It’s never kind to ignore another’s pain.

Sisters, don’t make this mistake. When you are grieving, you need your husband, and he needs you. Marriage, in its God-given intimacy, is a place where we are called to bear one another’s burdens (Gal. 6:2). Lean into that intimacy, and mourn together, as we are instructed in God’s Word: “Rejoice with those who rejoice, weep with those who weep” (Rom. 12:15).

In 2 Corinthians 1:3-4, Paul reminds us that God, the Father of mercies, comforts us in our afflictions so that we may extend that same comfort to others: “Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of mercies and God of all comfort, 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.” As you experience comfort from Christ in your grief, share that comfort with your husband. He needs you, and he needs the strength of Christ’s comfort as well.

When a friend experiences the loss of a baby, remember that her husband is grieving too. One simple way to acknowledge this is by addressing a note or card to both of them, recognizing that the father shares in the loss. Encourage your husband or other men in your church community to reach out to the grieving father as well. While women often gather to grieve together, men need encouragement to connect and share their sorrow too.

If you are involved in a grief support group for women, consider how you might help facilitate similar support for men or for couples. This can be as formal as a support group or as simple as a heartfelt conversation.

This October, as we reflect on the heartache of infant and pregnancy loss, let’s also remember the fathers. Their suffering, though often neglected, is real. As we raise awareness, let’s ensure that we care for the men who quietly carry the weight of grief alongside us.

Photo by taylor hernandez on Unsplash