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There's No Heartbeat

Personal testimonies and life experiences that illuminate the undeniable presence of God.


Growing Up

I was always a 'tomboy', I grew up with majority of guys as friends; I never thought of myself as being a 'mom' type. Boy was I wrong.

Growing up, I always took care of my little siblings and even my younger cousins — I was the eldest so I always got asked to do babysitting duties, but I didn't mind. In fact I always had a soft spot for children — their innocence, their antics and their laughter. I always loved seeing their beaming faces, or even watching them stomp their feet at their mothers refusal to let them have ice-cream before dinner. It made me chuckle, because I saw how flustered their parents would get at this little demanding human, and while I enjoyed just watching the family dynamics, I pitied those poor parents. I never wanted that responsibiilty of actually having my own — because I knew what was in store for me if I did: sleepless nights, no privacy, being on constant alert esepcially when the children are very young, etc. I always said "No thanks, I like my freedom!" when asked... but all that changed after I was married. Oh how God can change a heart!

In my twenties, after finishing my bachelors degree and working in an international city outside my home country; I met my husband, who was enlisted in the US Air Force at the time, and deployed in Italy. This is where we met and fell in love. All my life I had adamanty stated that I did not want children, because ''It wasn't for me", or "I preferred to work on my career", but on our trips out and about I would watch the little Italian children gleefully play in the fountains in the piazza (or town square) where we would be sitting drinking our coffee in, and eventually the time came when God changed my mind, and my heart, and shortly after getting married at twenty eight years old, I began to long for a little 'bambino' of my own.

My shot of a child playing in a fountain in Verona, Italy.

My shot of a child playing in a fountain in Verona, Italy.


After three months of trying, my husband and I realized we were pregnant.

We were in disbelief. It was a first for the both of us! Would we be good parents? Were we really ready? What if this was bad timing? There were so many emotions running through us, but we knew one thing for certain: that we would love and cherish this child because this is what we ultimately wanted. A child to fill our hearts and our home.


The Doctor's Visit

Excitedly and nervously we arrived for our second scan at eight weeks along.

The usually upbeat doctor's face dropped as he looked at the screen showing the image of our baby.

"I'm so sorry, but there's no hearbeat..."

"What? Maybe we are a little early, miscalculation?"

"No, normally there should be a heartbeat at this stage — but don't worry, this doesn't mean you will never be able to have children..."


Eventually I mustered the courage to ask "So there's no baby...?"

"No, I'm afraid not".

Our hearts sunk. We were reeling in shock. I looked up at mu husband who squeezed my hand, tightly. He had tears welled up in his eyes. I asked the doctor. "What happens now?" Literally not knowing what to expect at this point.

"Well, we could do a D&C.... or if you prefer you could wait it out at home?"

"Um, ok we'll wait it out..."

"Ok. Please remember to come in weekly to take your blood levels so that we can see that the growth of the pregnancy is in fact decreasing, if not it could spell other problems. See the nurse on your way out she will explain further. Again, I'm really sorry about this guys, but keep trying, okay?"


I didn't even know what the heck a D&C was, but after googling it at home I found out what it meant.

According to wikipedia, 'dilation and curettage or "D&C" refers to the dilation of the cervix and surgical removal of part of the lining of the uterus and/or contents of the uterus by scraping and scooping. It is a therapeutic gynecological procedure as well as the most often used method of first trimester miscarriage or abortion.'

Dilation and curettage refers to the dilation of the cervix and surgical removal of part of the lining of the uterus and/or contents of the uterus by scraping and scooping. It is a therapeutic gynecological procedure as well as the most often used method of first trimester miscarriage or abortion.

— Wikipedia

The Wait

The wait was awful. But two weeks after the doctor's visit I began having shooting pains in my womb. It was trying to expel the foreign, dead object — my baby. I stayed up all night on the toilet having the worst period of my life. Thankfully I didn't 'see' any objects/anything that resembled a tiny human. Having a high pain threshold, I got through the entire ordeal with only two Advil, and by 8am I flopped onto my bed and got about an hour of sleep. My body had taken care of itself and aborted the potential human. It was only six weeks along when it stopped forming, but to me that was still significant because a life was formed, cells came together to make a human being, and suddenly stopped.

A life was lost.



I grew up in a Christian home. My late grandfather was a prominent Pastor and wonderful, kindhearted human being, not just to me but to the entire community. I loved him and my grandmother very much. When they heard the sad news of what had happened — that they were not going to see their great-grandbaby just yet, they were disappointed, but more than that they were concerned about me — I was all alone, in a foreign country, away from my own family (not even my husband's family lived close to us, nor did they come to see us when the ordeal happened). I remember talking to my grandmother on the telephone and all she kept asking me was ''But are you really ok?" — to which I lied (so as not to cause her to worry) "Of course Gran, I'm alright, I'm not in any physical pain." She was silent on the other end, not believing me of course. But her words were "Just leave your worries at God's feet. Pray and trust in Him. We love you."

A few days later I received a letter from my Grandfather in which he wrote that he was '...very proud of me, for being independent, for travelling, for accomplishing so many things on my own, how much they love me, and lastly to remember that "All things work together for good, for those who love the Lord." - Romans 8:28

I remember not really understanding the depth of that verse, but feeling comforted anyway, knowing that there is a greater plan, by the Maker of the universe, and that even though this didn't work out, I was going to put my trust in the One who has loved me all my life, and still cares for me — I was going to trust God.


Six months later

After a painstaking period of intense grief, arguments, stress and general depression, my husband and I (finally) agreed that we needed to get out and do something outdoors and re-experience what God had given us to enjoy, and do the things we used to do. So we took our camping trip along with our beloved little dog who we got from the local humane society (he rescued us more than we did him in fact), and on our trip we hiked, saw waterfalls, and experienced the joys of life again. Upon returning from the week-long trip, my husband and I discovered we were pregnant again!

What joy! And we weren't even expecting it!

Nine months later we gave birth to a beautiful baby boy. God answered our prayers, in His timing. All we had to do was trust Him. This was His will for us.

God is truly amazing. I will never doubt that. His love for us is so immense. Only He knows the reasons behind His workings. All I know is that I trust Him fully. He is my God, my guide and I love Him.

I will praise the Lord no matter what happens. I will constantly speak of his glories and grace. I will boast of all his kindness to me. Let all who are discouraged take heart. Let us praise the Lord together and exalt His name.

— Psalm 34: 1-3


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