"My arms ache every day to hold my two baby boys that I lost, I went home empty handed. "
“‘I’m sorry, there’s no heartbeat.’ This sentence was first said to me on October 14th, 2003. I remember I didn’t hear anything that was spoken to me after that, other than, “You will be induced tomorrow to deliver your baby.”
My induction was the next morning. I remember walking through the Labor and Delivery floor and feeling as if it was empty. There were no women laboring and roaming the halls, no soon to be fathers pacing, not a soul in sight. That was the first moment that I experienced the empty feeling. An empty feeling so powerful that I knew if allowed; it would consume me.
My delivery room was at the end of a very long hallway. My door was adorned with a simple teardrop, a symbol of significance that I would later understand. I labored intensively for six hours, with no medicinal intervention per my request. It was by my very experienced and compassionate physician that I learned I would have little time with my baby before his body would change. Knowing that, I chose to labor naturally so that I would be alert and able to focus during the short amount of time I would have. I gave birth to a premature, yet perfect baby boy. He was born with the same furrowed brow and the trademark dimple in his chin as his 3 healthy sisters were. My first baby boy, Benjamin, was silently born on October 15th 2003.
I experienced my second loss, baby boy number two, on November 1st, 2006. This time I was 15 weeks pregnant and heard the same chilling sentence, “I’m sorry, there’s no heartbeat.”
My arms ache every day to hold my two baby boys that I lost, I went home empty handed. My mind is empty of every potential milestone and memory. And my heart has two holes, empty spaces for my two sons. That is how empty feels and I needed to feel empty to grieve.
Time does heal, in ways, and faith and hope make up the difference. My faith gives me hope that I will see my two boys again one day. In the meantime, I choose to keep my memory of them alive by fiercely loving my 4 daughters and grandson. Yes, grandson! And finally, being a beacon of light to those mothers’ who walk a similar path. Our experiences don’t define who we are, but they mold and shape us into who we become.”