It's been over a year since I have last posted. I'll write more on that later. For now, it's October 15th and it's a day set aside for Miscarriage and Pregnancy Loss Awareness. All over the world, families are lighting candles to remember their little ones that are waiting for them in heaven. So, this is post is for you.
I see you.
I see you thinking about how to actually answer the question "How many kids do you have?"
I see you.
I see you trying to change the subject when it turns to baby bumps and morning sickness. I know you would give everything to go through that JUST to have a baby in your arms.
I see you. I know what it's like. I've been there.
I've smiled a genuinely happy smile at a pregnancy announcement and then turned, walked quickly to the safety of my office, put my head down on my desk and cried.
I see you. Unfollowing all your pregnant friends, ESPECIALLY if they are due around the same time you would have been. It's not that you don't love them. It's not that you aren't happy for them. Sometimes... you just... can't.
I've been there. I have broken down at family dinners when pregnancy was mentioned. I've run out of the room crying. I have put my head down, trying to hide my face so that no one could see my tear-streaked face. I've locked myself in the bathroom trying to pull myself together. I've sat and cried in my car before going in to a baby shower.
I see you. Praying for answers. And when answers don't seem to come, trying to reconcile that with your faith.
I see you avoiding the baby aisles at the grocery store or even avoiding actual babies.
Mother's Day can be hard. Father's Day can be hard. Thanksgiving. Christmas. Angelversaries. All hard.
I know. I've been there. So I tell you- you are not alone.
Til We Meet: Miscarriage Musings
Sunday, October 15, 2017
Tuesday, January 12, 2016
Instant Connections
December and January are always reflective months for me. I look back at a whole year and think how different it seems now that the old one is ending and a new one is starting. Never does a year go as planned! I look back and see how the start of 2015 was so different from the start of 2016. in 2015 we were coming off a year with 3 miscarriages. We started the year not knowing if there were more pregnancy losses in our future. Maybe we would have to say that we were done growing our family? We just didn't know. Now, we start the year with a happy little baby whom everybody loves. Joy is abundant. Not that I never felt joy in 2015. I did. I just had to work harder at it.
Last week I visited COSI (a local museum) with the girls and members of my family. It was Norah's first time attending! Not that a 3-month-old can do much at COSI besides look at all the lights. But every first for Norah is monumental. Near the end of our visit my sister took Lara and Vivi to another part of the museum while I took Mariella and Norah to Kidspace. Mariella happily ran around playing and ended up at the climbing wall (go figure). While Norah and I sat watching her climb up and down over and over again, a woman sat down next to me and remarked how cute my baby was. I had seen this family walking around COSI (it was quite an empty day there) and had noticed how cute their little daughter was and that the woman was visibly pregnant. She asked about the transition from one to two kids and how Mariella did with a baby sister. I explained that Norah was number 4 so transitions were pretty easy right now and that Mariella was a wonderful helper. She asked about the ages of my daughters and noticed how evenly spaced they all were. Except for Mariella and Norah. While we were talking about that, I quickly gauged what I would do. Would I tell her? Would I just let it gloss over? I looked at her and said very matter-of-factly "Well, I had 3 miscarriages between Mariella and Norah. That's why there's such a 4-year gap between them." She smiled at me. "Ah," she said, "Rainbow babies are very loved." And instantly there was a connection. She had experienced a pregnancy loss before her oldest was born and knew all about the issues that go along with that. We chatted a little bit more before I had to collect Mariella to go home. I am thankful that I said something. Although I hate to know that somebody has had to experience something so painful, there is a feeling of kindred spirits that goes on when you form that bridge. A member of my support group always would say "These are my people." I am thankful to have met so many of "My People" and formed lasting connections with them. 2016 will bring even more of My People into my path and I will look for them. And I will let them know that they are not alone.
Last week I visited COSI (a local museum) with the girls and members of my family. It was Norah's first time attending! Not that a 3-month-old can do much at COSI besides look at all the lights. But every first for Norah is monumental. Near the end of our visit my sister took Lara and Vivi to another part of the museum while I took Mariella and Norah to Kidspace. Mariella happily ran around playing and ended up at the climbing wall (go figure). While Norah and I sat watching her climb up and down over and over again, a woman sat down next to me and remarked how cute my baby was. I had seen this family walking around COSI (it was quite an empty day there) and had noticed how cute their little daughter was and that the woman was visibly pregnant. She asked about the transition from one to two kids and how Mariella did with a baby sister. I explained that Norah was number 4 so transitions were pretty easy right now and that Mariella was a wonderful helper. She asked about the ages of my daughters and noticed how evenly spaced they all were. Except for Mariella and Norah. While we were talking about that, I quickly gauged what I would do. Would I tell her? Would I just let it gloss over? I looked at her and said very matter-of-factly "Well, I had 3 miscarriages between Mariella and Norah. That's why there's such a 4-year gap between them." She smiled at me. "Ah," she said, "Rainbow babies are very loved." And instantly there was a connection. She had experienced a pregnancy loss before her oldest was born and knew all about the issues that go along with that. We chatted a little bit more before I had to collect Mariella to go home. I am thankful that I said something. Although I hate to know that somebody has had to experience something so painful, there is a feeling of kindred spirits that goes on when you form that bridge. A member of my support group always would say "These are my people." I am thankful to have met so many of "My People" and formed lasting connections with them. 2016 will bring even more of My People into my path and I will look for them. And I will let them know that they are not alone.
Tuesday, December 22, 2015
In Remembrance and In Mourning
A friend messaged me today to see if I was open to talking about my miscarriage experiences with her. She just found out yesterday that her unborn baby did not have a heartbeat. Immediately my heart broke for her. I would not wish that experience on anybody. The memory of that day in August 2014 when I went in for my 16 week exam came flooding back. When the nurse practioner couldn't find a heartbeat with the doppler, she calmly said that they would check me out with an ultrasound and for me not to worry. With my past history, I just knew the worst had happened again and I started crying. I cried while the technician scanned me and then cried even harder when she told me "I'm sorry, there is no heartbeat." By a tender mercy from Heavenly Father, my doctor happened to be in the office on a day she wasn't scheduled. They rushed to tell her what had happened and she ran into the room and threw her arms around me. After I had calmed a little, I called Reed to tell him the news and he came to drive me home. The whole experience is like a video that plays in my mind with the sharpest clarity. I can remember every emotion, the whole sequence, every single nuance of the day I lost Henrietta.
The holidays can be such a hard time for people who have experienced a loss. For those with pregnancy loss there is always a feeling of sadness for the lost milestones. If Henrietta had lived, this would have been her first Christmas. She would have almost been a year old.
Now, today, my heart breaks for my friend who will always remember Christmas time as a time when she lost her child. I know that she has the gospel on her life and I hope she clings to the love of our Heavenly Father to get her and her family through. Christ came to earth so that we could all return to live with God again. And that means we can be with our loved ones for eternity.
As a reminder to all of you, I am always open to talking about my experiences. I hope that you too have the hope that the gospel brings in your life, to help you at this difficult time.
The holidays can be such a hard time for people who have experienced a loss. For those with pregnancy loss there is always a feeling of sadness for the lost milestones. If Henrietta had lived, this would have been her first Christmas. She would have almost been a year old.
Now, today, my heart breaks for my friend who will always remember Christmas time as a time when she lost her child. I know that she has the gospel on her life and I hope she clings to the love of our Heavenly Father to get her and her family through. Christ came to earth so that we could all return to live with God again. And that means we can be with our loved ones for eternity.
As a reminder to all of you, I am always open to talking about my experiences. I hope that you too have the hope that the gospel brings in your life, to help you at this difficult time.
Saturday, October 31, 2015
Our Rainbow Baby
As this is the last day of October (almost November since I write this near midnight) and we wrap up Infant and Pregnancy Loss Awareness month, I write about welcoming our rainbow baby to our family, Norah Jane. Ironically, she was born on the day of the tulip planting ceremony that is hosted by my support group to commemorate all of the babies that left the earth too soon for our liking.
I was so relieved when she was born that she was safe and well in our arms. And since we waited until the end to know if we were having a boy or a girl, there was the surprise of finding out that we would have FOUR girls in our home. It was love at first sight.
A rainbow baby is a child born after a pregnancy loss or, in my case, several losses. I think about the symbolism of this name a great deal. I think about the account of Noah and God placing the rainbow in the sky as a covenant and symbol of His love for us. I think about how rainbows come after a rainstorm and can turn a dreary day into something so wonderfully colorful. Rainbows don't take away the effects of the rain. Their appearance doesn't mean that it will never rain again. And so it is with a rainbow baby. Norah is not a replacement for the three children I have lost and her birth doesn't mean that I won't ever have another miscarriage. I do, however, feel of my Heavenly Father's love for me every time I look at her.
Reed took a video (I didn't know he was taking a video) of me shortly after Norah was born. I was cuddling her for the first hour of her life and feeling so many emotions. I started crying for many reasons. I cried because I was still sad that I never got to hold Jean-Yves, Luc, or Henrietta and I still missed them. I cried because I remembered that the last time I was in a labor and delivery room, it wasn't to give birth and I left empty-armed. I cried because I was relieved that Norah was safe, I cried because I was so thankful to my Heavenly Father for all the ways he showed me His love. I have chosen to share this video because I want you to know that it's OK to feel so many emotions that might seem strange to be together. It seems conflicting to be happy and sad at the same time. It is OK, though. The rainbow doesn't mean you will never be sad again. Just remember that you have a Heavenly Father who loves you and will never leave you alone. He will help you through the sad times. Always.
I was so relieved when she was born that she was safe and well in our arms. And since we waited until the end to know if we were having a boy or a girl, there was the surprise of finding out that we would have FOUR girls in our home. It was love at first sight.
A rainbow baby is a child born after a pregnancy loss or, in my case, several losses. I think about the symbolism of this name a great deal. I think about the account of Noah and God placing the rainbow in the sky as a covenant and symbol of His love for us. I think about how rainbows come after a rainstorm and can turn a dreary day into something so wonderfully colorful. Rainbows don't take away the effects of the rain. Their appearance doesn't mean that it will never rain again. And so it is with a rainbow baby. Norah is not a replacement for the three children I have lost and her birth doesn't mean that I won't ever have another miscarriage. I do, however, feel of my Heavenly Father's love for me every time I look at her.
Reed took a video (I didn't know he was taking a video) of me shortly after Norah was born. I was cuddling her for the first hour of her life and feeling so many emotions. I started crying for many reasons. I cried because I was still sad that I never got to hold Jean-Yves, Luc, or Henrietta and I still missed them. I cried because I remembered that the last time I was in a labor and delivery room, it wasn't to give birth and I left empty-armed. I cried because I was relieved that Norah was safe, I cried because I was so thankful to my Heavenly Father for all the ways he showed me His love. I have chosen to share this video because I want you to know that it's OK to feel so many emotions that might seem strange to be together. It seems conflicting to be happy and sad at the same time. It is OK, though. The rainbow doesn't mean you will never be sad again. Just remember that you have a Heavenly Father who loves you and will never leave you alone. He will help you through the sad times. Always.
Friday, October 2, 2015
It's October Again
It has been a whole year since I started this blog. October is Pregnancy and Infant Loss Awareness Month and nothing makes this more real to me than being 38 weeks pregnant. I miss my babies every day. I think about them often and still get sad sometimes. I am glad I started this blog though. It's given me a place where I can record my thoughts and let people who read the posts know that it's OK to talk about this. It's, of course, OK to not talk about it also if that is your choice. Everyone should have a choice in how they grieve. In the past year I've connected with people whom I never would have met in the first place because of this blog. I've talked with friends who have had losses and didn't know who else to talk with. I've talked with friends who have wanted to support other friends who have had pregnancy loss and didn't know how to do it. I've talked with women much older than I who still miss their babies. I have born my testimony to many about how I know that Heavenly Father loves me and wants me to be happy. He has made it possible for me to see my babies again. I love thinking about Jean-Yves, Luc, and Henrietta sending down our rainbow baby with their love.
Here are some of my favorite pictures to commemorate October.
Here are some of my favorite pictures to commemorate October.
Rainbow Babies |
Friday, September 25, 2015
They Remember
The other day, the girls were talking about their guesses as to what this baby will be- a boy or a girl. They started counting all the girls vs. boys in our family and Lara asked "How many girls died?" At first I didn't know what she was talking about. After asking for clarification I figured out she was asking how many boys we lost with the miscarriages and how many girls (for the record, two boys and one girl). I am glad she remembers because sometimes I wonder if I don't talk about it enough with her and her sisters. And sometimes I wonder if I am the only one who remembers.
Thursday, September 10, 2015
The New Normal
Tuesday night I started feeling funny- very nauseous, contraction-like feelings that continued into Wednesday night, and the baby was moving A LOT (which can be quite painful).
Normally, I wouldn't be worried. Normally, I would look something up on the internet about it and then say "totally fine." and deal with it. Normally, I would just wait until my next doctor's appointment to ask. Normally, I might have even ignored all those physical symptoms.
I have a new normal though.
I don't like to say that my world stopped or died when I had my 3 miscarriages. I am obviously still here and part of this world. Parts of my world died and changed though.
My world where I could have a blissful, carefree pregnancy is gone.
My world where I just assume that things are going to end with a baby in my arms is gone.
My world where I happily congratulate any person who has announced a pregnancy is gone.
Instead, I have extremely hard first and second trimesters where I worry every day.
Instead, I say "hopefully" a lot. "Hopefully, we will have a baby in October." I am 35 weeks and I still use "hopefully".
Instead, I wish them a healthy pregnancy. I am happy for them, I just cannot discount past experiences and the many, many women who have experienced pregnancy loss.
And so, I called my doctor today and asked to come in and be checked. Kudos to the nurses for not making me feel like I was acting crazy or being unreasonable. They patiently listened to what I had to say then hooked me up with a heartbeat and contraction monitor. It was determined that the baby was doing very well and wasn't in distress. I am having contractions, but small ones and not very regular. They advised me to rest when I felt contractions and to drink lots of water and, of course, to keep an eye on things. They assured me that I was right to come in and be checked and that they would rather me do that then worry for a week until my next appointment. I left feeling relieved that I had gone in and told myself that I wasn't being crazy.
I just have to accept that this is my new normal.
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