Thursday, October 10, 2013

Pregnancy Loss


Three years ago on today's date, my second child was due to be born. If you do your math and you've been paying attention, you know little Owen is only halfway through his terrible twos.

The second baby I'm referring to is one I never got to meet in person. One who only felt my love from within, not from my touch or my words or my kiss. One who was only around for a couple of months before I suffered a miscarriage and my family was changed forever.

Each year about this time {and again in March, which marks the month that sweet baby left us}, I bring her up. I don't do this to make you sad or to force myself and my family and friends back into that emotional roller coaster. I don't want to be a statistic. I don't want to have to tell doctors that I've had four pregnancies, but only three children. I don't want to look at Owen and Nora and think about how different things would be if it hadn't happened. It's a weird pull on my heart and it hurts to think about the missing piece.

But it's there. It happened. There was a real baby - my baby - who left too soon. Because of that fact, I will do everything I can to honor her memory and the love created the second we knew she was formed. October is nationally recognized as Pregnancy and Infant Loss Awareness Month and chances are, you can relate. Maybe you experienced it firsthand. Or maybe it was your best friend or cousin or coworker or parents. No matter how you're connected, you know the devastation and confusion it brings. Unlike the many months designated to raise awareness about certain illnesses or issues that plague our fellow man, we're not looking for a cure. Miscarriage is something no woman can prevent. This is a hard pill to swallow, but there is usually no rhyme or reason associated with pregnancy loss. Although we can't fix it, what we can do is remember.

I don't know your story, but if you can relate to this post, I can't imagine the heartbreak you've felt. The only feelings I know are my own and my biggest reason for writing about this tough topic is to remind my readers that it's real. It's a thing that happens and it should not be a taboo subject. We should honor these babies and their mothers for the strength they've built to pick themselves up and deal. To carry on through life with a missing piece and try to focus on the love more than the loss.

This post goes out to all of my readers who have children who left this planet too soon. I am here for you. So are your friends and your family and the people in this life who love you. The tiny angel your heart aches for is real and his or her loss is real and that's okay. Whether it's been a few years, a few decades, or the shock is very fresh, there's pain. However, I ask that you try not to let that push back the memory of your child. In his or her memory, stand up. Be the one in four. Hurt and grieve and share and lean and let people know it's okay to do the same.

Be proud of your angel and the love in which he or she was created. It is my personal belief that we will see them all again one day and it's also my personal belief that they're all having a pretty sweet play date right now. :)

Don't be afraid to speak out about your babies. You are not alone.


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2 comments:

The Gifted Gabber said...

Coming by from ARWB.
What a beautifully written post. No doubt, this will inspire and encourage so many others.

Debbie Arnold said...

Thanks for sharing your heart and for giving us permission to uplift and support you and others who are grieving still from this loss. My sister, too, suffered a miscarriage a few months into her first pregnancy. It was difficult for me because she hurt so much; I can't truly know the depths of that personal loss, however.