“[…] I feel a brief sting. It’s a feeling I don’t imagine will ever leave me. In fact, I hope it doesn’t. I’m a different person because of my losses and I can help others because of it."
“I tried to convince myself we were done having kids for years. That adding another would only make life more difficult, but 5 years into that self-conversation, I couldn’t deny the feeling that we needed to try again. “Our first 2 kids were so easy to conceive, why would that change now?” I thought. After 2 years of trying to add that 3rd sweet babe to our family and the deepest desire to expand, we experienced our first miscarriage. There’s no history of miscarriage in our families, no reason to expect that type of loss, but we DID experience it. I was heart broken. We had just told our kids and close friends and family that we were expecting 1 week before. It was confusing. My husband was strong but didn’t know how to process the experience either. I didn’t know who to talk to or how to talk about it because I hadn’t known anybody who had experienced and spoken openly about the feelings. My body started miscarrying when we were at the construction site of my parents’ new house. I summoned my kids and told Dave I needed to get home where I lay in bed with a blank stare and tears streaming until things passed. My sweet little boy brought be flowers from the yard and with no words spoken, tenderly hugged me after he placed them in a plastic cup beside my bed. Another year went by and we finally decided to accept our lives as they were. We’d been so blessed with our 2 kids as it was. We accepted that it just wasn’t meant to be, but the next month, I found myself nearly hyperventilating in the bathroom as a pregnancy test showed ‘+’ again. “How could this be? We stopped trying! I’m not mentally prepared for this anymore. What happens if we lose this baby too?!” These thoughts were racing through my head as I frantically reached out to Dave who had already left for work. We decided this time that we wouldn’t tell anybody. I needed to guard my feelings and tried hard to not get my hopes up but quickly returned to the undeniable feelings of the sweet and protective longing for our precious babe. 12 weeks later, we learned once again that we had lost our 4th baby. My husband was leaving the country a few days later, so I wanted to have all doctors appointments done before he left. I was forced to set the feelings aside again and tried my hardest to carry-on, as usual, knowing that I had to be strong for my kids while dad was gone. By the time he came back, I thought I had handled myself fairly well, but time has only proven that the pain still remains. Each time I pull up to my parents’ new house. Each pregnant mother I see. Each time I see my nephew who was born a few months before my due date. Each time I drive the car we bought because we thought our family was growing. Each time I open my daughters closet and see the shelf I had built in preparation for the changing table. Each time I see a mother wrangling her fit throwing toddler, I feel a brief sting. It’s a feeling I don’t imagine will ever leave me. In fact, I hope it doesn’t. I’m a different person because of my losses and I can help others because of it.”