Today is my due date.
Instead of nesting and pacing the floor waiting for the tiniest contraction to ripple through my body, I am biting my nails, trying to keep the emotions down.
Today was my due date. We lost the baby in November at 8 weeks along and for some strange reason I felt shame about miscarrying. Not because I could have prevented the loss, but because no one talks about baby loss. So I'm going to talk about it.
Today was the due date for my first baby.
Our second baby was due in September. We lost Baby #2 (What would we have named you?) at 19 weeks, almost half way through my pregnancy.
For those of you who have been pregnant or know much about pregnancy you know the first trimester marks the end of the part of pregnancy where loss is most common. Second trimester (13 weeks and forward) is when most Mommas start to feel really good. You start to show, you start to tell more people about your baby, and your morning sickness goes away (finally!).
We were devastated by the first loss, but "it happens", and it was not likely to happen again. After our first loss, we recovered because we were cloaked in prayer and were emotionally propped up by those who knew about the baby. Which were not many.
While we were emotionally and spiritually healing from the loss, we learned that women are often wildly more fertile directly after a pregnancy loss. This is where my science gets fuzzy and personal experience reigns. We got pregnant immediately. I'm talking... immediately.
The second pregnancy was different from the first and I was happy for every twinge of nausea and each time I struggled to stay awake at work. I started to tell people and I was even beginning to show- which made me nervous at first. I am far too used to sucking it in to immediately adapt to letting it stick out. But I quickly learned to love it.
At 19 weeks (a month and a half out of the first trimester) we went in for regular exam and the baby had no heartbeat. This is where I tell you I was shocked, but I wasn't. I knew, and that comforts me in a small way. That day we made the decision that I would go into the hospital the next morning to be induced and deliver.
So that's just what we did. We went to the labor and delivery unit and delivered our sweet baby. We made the decision to hold him, and I am glad I did.
There was no reason found for the loss, and neither of us is broken, so we will try again, but not just yet.
While this has been the most difficult season in my life, I know that I can help someone by telling my story. I know I can ease the shame others are feeling, because let me tell you, Momma, that shame is crap. Don't you believe it.
People ask how I am doing, and if I am "better" (a blog for another time, but never ask if I'm better... I was never intrinsically bad). If I had written this blog last month my response would be completely different, and am sure my response will be different next month. For now I can say I am healing. Some days the loss of two babies in less than 6 months is still raw as hell, but I am healing thanks to my amazing family, incredible church family and friends.
I cannot not end this post without giving a HUGE shout out to our sisters and parents who have been by our side for two losses. Jeff and I know it could not be easy for you to lose these babies either, but you helped us through your grief and we will be forever grateful. Between holding my hand during contractions and getting no sleep for 24 hours (MEGAN!), making me laugh while the nurses tried for 30 minutes to find a vein and flying to be by my side just to eat pizza and cry with us, we know we are incredibly lucky to have you all. Holy cow we love you guys. Thank you, thank you, thank you. But let’s never do it again, ok?
There is more I want to say on this subject (what NOT to say to someone who has had a miscarriage/still born for instance) and so many more people to thank - but I think for now I will leave it at this. My hope is that my story will help other woman who are struggling with their own pain, or their friend's pain, or their sister's pain. You're not alone. Let's talk about it.