Next week will mark the day I’ve been dreading for nine months.
It’s the day I was supposed to be meeting our second baby.
Instead, my first ultrasound last March confirmed a baby but no heartbeat. A few weeks later, I went into the hospital pregnant and left drugged and empty.
I didn’t understand miscarriage until it became part of my story. I didn’t know that all around me, women were a part of this secret club, bonded by a grief few on the outside seem to truly understand.
I thought it was like getting your period … only then it was over before it started. I didn’t realize that sometimes it involves surgery with paperwork where you sign your baby’s remains away to be incinerated with the other “medical waste.” I didn’t realize the insurance company will send you bills calling your condition a “spontaneous abortion.”
But I’ve been awakened to this silent grief. The women who hug me and whisper “me, too.” The grandmothers who still tear up at the memory of a loss felt decades ago.
We don’t talk about our pregnancies until we reach that magic twelve week mark where it’s suddenly safe to go public. We smile sweetly when well-meaning strangers ask “it’s about time for little Sally to get a sibling, right?”
Today is National Pregnancy and Infant Loss Remembrance Day, a day that was designated by President Ronald Reagan in 1988. Internationally, the day is remembered by lighting a candle at 7 p.m. in your respective time zone so that a wave of light reaches around the globe for twenty-four hours remembering babies whose lives were cut short in the womb or shortly after birth.
There’s not a day that goes by that my heart doesn’t ache a little. There was no funeral. No formal good-bye. But it was a grief that ran deeper than anything I’ve yet to experience. It will forever change my perspective on pregnancy, ultrasounds, beating hearts and the miracle of life.
Joining the secret club also creates an awareness and love for women silently grieving themselves. I can hold their hand and remind them to keep breathing. When people ask me when my son is getting a sibling, I tell them why he doesn’t have one. More awareness can only breed more compassion. And for goodness’ sake, stop asking that question.
So to all the mamas aching for a baby you never held or who left your arms too soon; who are waiting to get pregnant, or are pregnant after a loss, full of fear: keep breathing.
I’ll be lighting my candle tonight to remember my sweet baby who I never got to hold, and for all of you who became part of the club you never wanted to join.
Thank you for sharing our story. I feel like it does raise awareness. And I am so very, very sorry for your loss.
So sorry, Sweet Mommy! What a terrible ache that is. I lost a teenage son several years ago, so I share some of what you are dealing with. But, the thought of little ones going on too soon is just heartbreaking.
You are in my thoughts and prayers in this, your year of firsts. May God bless you!
I am so so sorry for your loss. I can not even image the heart ache you and your family have gone through. I have a dear friend who has 3 miracle babies and 6 angels watching over them. To see the heart ache in her eyes and soul is heart breaking. I pray for all you mommies out there. Know that you are in my thoughts and prays.
Oh sweet Sarah. My heart hurts for all the mommas with angel babies. I will be lighting my candle tonight in honor of all the sweet babies whose mommas wait to hold them in Heaven.
Sarah,
I think that your title captures it all. Every April, I find myself much more sullen thinking of the hope and joy that ended with that tiny heartbeat. I also remember that cold shock with reading the insurance terminology…I felt like everyone’s life kept moving where my life had slowed down to such an extent that it simply seemed like a bad dream. Thank you for sharing.
This brought tears to my eyes I lost my first child to miscarriage at 12 weeks I didn’t even know I was pregnant until I miscarried in my home I had never been to a Dr. for it and never knew I needed to. I also had a blighted ovem I went 14 weeks before I found out I began to miscarry at home but had to call for help I lost so much blood I almost needed a blood transfusion. In between all of that and after I have been blessed to have 7 children but I never forget the ones I lost. I love being pregnant and have always said I would like to be a surrogate. To be able to give that joy to another mother would amazing.
I’m so sorry for your loss. Having the courage to share your story helps and encourages other hurting moms. Thanks for being willing to share.