6 years ago Mr. O and I got the happiest news ever. After 9 months of trying, I was pregnant. I’d planned how I was going to tell him for months. I got these teeny tiny running shoes and wrapped them up for him. I loved watching the realization come over his face. It was beautiful.
Days later we left on a vacation to visit family and take a road trip through the southwestern US. It was early, but we decided to tell our family about our joyous news.
On April 23, the last full day of our trip, it happened. I started bleeding. And bleeding. And bleeding. Mr. O took me to the ER, where we waited for hours to be seen, only to confirm what I already knew. My baby wasn’t there anymore.
I was devastated. It had only been a few weeks, but that didn’t matter. I felt like a mother from the instant that second line appeared.
[bctt tweet=”I felt like a mother from the instant that second line appeared. http://wp.me/p5l5rT-1m6″ username=”creatingmyhappy”]
We called our families and broke the news. Reliving it over and over. And no one knew what to say. Lots of people told me that it wasn’t meant to be. That there was something wrong with the baby. It wasn’t my fault. And my doctor managed to find a small silver lining in the fact that I could, in fact get pregnant, which after 9 months was beginning to be questioned.
None of that helped.
It was a friend who finally put it into words; Yes, I could have another baby. But I wanted that baby.
Now, years later, the pain has faded. I have a beautiful little girl who lights up my life, and who I know was meant to be my child. But I still think about my little lost child, and I know there are millions of other women who still think about their little ones that weren’t to be.
So while I’m grateful for my daughter and know I am blessed, the life I couldn’t carry to term doesn’t mean less to me. And I don’t see any reason to bury my grief either. It makes me feel better to know that my little lost baby is still talked about, remembered, and cared for. I carry her (?) in my heart every day, so why not talk about it? Why not let other women know they’re not alone?
A miscarriage, whenever it happens, is a devastating event for a hopeful mother. Though years have passed, I still find solace in sharing my story.
