After unimaginable loss, near-death moments, and years of unanswered prayers, Nathan Wieser shares the raw, unfiltered story of grief, perseverance, and the miracle that finally brought life. This episode is a sacred testimony of faith under pressure, marriage tested by trauma, and the power of hope when everything feels lost.
In this deeply moving episode of Healed. Whole. Called., Wendy sits down with Nathan Wieser, a husband and father whose life has been shaped by both breathtaking love and devastating loss.
Nathan takes listeners back to the beginning — a simple, beautiful love story that started in the Caribbean and led to a decade of island life, adopted dogs, and dreams of building a family. But those dreams were met with repeated heartbreak. Nathan and his wife Lucy endured multiple pregnancy losses, including the traumatic stillbirth of their daughter, Mary, during a medical emergency that nearly took Lucy’s life as well.
The conversation courageously explores the aftermath of trauma: PTSD, grief that isolates, and the quiet strain placed on marriage when suffering is shared but processed differently. Nathan speaks honestly about moments of despair, the temptation to give up, and how faith resurfaced in the darkest places — not as platitudes, but as survival.
The story reaches a turning point with the birth of their son, Otto, born at just 26 weeks and weighing barely two pounds. Listeners are taken inside the NICU, where life hung in the balance daily. Nathan recounts surgeries, alarms, setbacks, and a moment doctors still cannot explain — when a life-threatening heart condition resolved itself just moments before surgery. A miracle.
This episode is not about easy answers. It’s about endurance. About choosing marriage when grief pulls you apart. About honoring children who were lost while celebrating the one who lives. And about the sacred strength it takes to keep believing when the story hasn’t yet turned hopeful.
Nathan’s testimony is especially powerful for fathers, husbands, and anyone who has felt invisible in grief. His message is clear: your pain is real, your story matters, and hope can still be written — even after profound loss.