“I’m sorry. There is no heartbeat.” One week away from her due date, Jackie Gibson and her husband, Jonny, heard those words cut through the silence of the room in the hospital. Their daughter, Leila, died before she was born. In You Are Still a Mother,[1] Jackie Gibson quotes those crushing words several times as she chronicles navigating her grief.
The Gibsons know, and knew at the time of Leila’s death, the Good Shepherd, the Man of Sorrows, who knows our grief and suffering. He, his person and work, form the basis for the hope mentioned in the subtitle. Yet the book is utterly honest. There is no shortcut through grief. It continues. Jackie writes:
I am not the same person I was before Leila died. The trauma of my devastating loss has etched itself onto my heart and body. Grief has taken up residence in my heart and is now my companion for life. Sometimes its presence is loud and clanging, and other times it is tucked away and so quiet that I forget for a moment that it is there. But grief is there. And whenever I feel that pang in my heart, I remember that Leila’s death has changed me. (54)
Wisely she wishes that debriefing in the hospital had included information about post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD).
Jackie acknowledges the darkness of doubt, the low place where her feelings threatened to override her faith. Yet, even there, despite the feelings at times, she clung to the assurance that there was “only one pair of arms that could hold me through the worst moment of my life—the everlasting arms of an eternal God.” (12)
The book focuses on the truth of God’s Word, Psalm 139’s assurance “that our babies’ days were numbered before they came into being…. Before God knit Leila together in my womb, he ordained that her life was only for the womb—about 277 days.” (23) God’s covenant promises and Christ’s invitation to children give Jackie the confidence that Leila is safe in heaven.
Chapter 7 bears the same title as the book, exploring what it means to be a bereaved mother, but still a mother. The book reminds us that our union with Christ means sharing in his suffering before we share in his glory. Our comfort and goal is the glory of the new heavens and earth. We are pilgrims. Along with that, is a most helpful reminder that our bodies are important. As difficult as the subject matter is, the book is uplifting.
My introduction to the book was a podcast, The Afterword, hosted as usual by Jonny Gibson, but in this episode interviewing his wife Jackie about the book. Listening or watching is rewarding.
At the end are a couple of helpful pages of suggested reading. I hope that future editions of the book will include in that list Little One Lost by Glenda Mathes.[2] For the past decade that has been a most useful resource. I welcome the addition of You Are Still a Mother. The books supplement each other. As a pastor I keep multiple copies of both on hand to give as appropriate. Mathes’ book is longer and relays the stories of a number of different losses. Gibson’s dives more deeply into the grief involved. Both are solidly scriptural. Not surprisingly, both focus on the comfort of knowing that God knits us together in our mothers’ wombs. Both books are helpful, not only for mothers going through loss, but also for brothers and sisters who seek to be faithful in reflecting the compassion of Christ.
[1] You Are Still a Mother: Hope for Women Grieving a Stillbirth or Miscarriage, 2023, New Growth Press, Greensboro, NC, 84 pages, $11.99
[2] Little One Lost: Living with Early Infant Loss, by Glenda Mathes, 2012, Reformed Fellowship, Inc., 144 pages, $10.00.
