OUR 2020 PREGNANCY LOSS
Originally Published September 12, 2020
Motherhood, Infertility, trying to conceive
Earlier this summer, Kevin and I finally got a chance to sneak away to Florida for a week to celebrate our 5-year anniversary. We were kid-free for the first time in forever but I was 6 weeks pregnant and I remember telling Kevin how glad I was that our third little baby could come with us on this trip.
We were so happy to be pregnant again and I spent any free time I had looking up names.
At the same time, I knew how common miscarriage is and there was an ever-present temptation to stay unattached. I hadn’t started feeling any symptoms yet so I found the pregnancy hard to believe. However, I never really felt sick in my pregnancy with Lainey either so I choose not to be worried and just enjoyed feeling good.
Instead of being anxious, the thought of life inside me drove me to bond deeply with this baby. I promised this child that I would love him or her with all that I am for as much time as I am given. As often as I could, I would place my hands on my belly and picture surrounding the baby with a warm embrace. As I did this, any fear I had of pregnancy loss would dissipate, knowing that each day was a gift and I could use it fully for love.
On our second morning in Florida, July 7th, 2020, we woke up to a beautiful sunny sky with a rainbow shining over the Gulf. The rainbow seemed out of place but it made me smile, knowing it was a reminder of God’s promises. I took a picture and remembered it all throughout the day.
We had a great morning, walked to lunch, and then went back to our hotel room for naps.
That’s when, out of nowhere, I began to bleed. We were, of course, scared and devastated, knowing what this might mean. I called my midwife’s office and the nurse told me there’s not much we can do except rest and wait to see what happens.
Later that evening, the bleeding became quite heavy, the cramping set in, and we were fairly positive I was miscarrying. We sat on our balcony and watched the ocean below. I looked out and saw a single dolphin swimming only 20-30 feet from shore. No one else around seemed to notice and my husband commented that it felt like that dolphin was placed there just for us. A sign that our baby was returning home peacefully without ever having to experience the pain of this world.
The rainbow we saw first thing that morning and the place where we later saw the dolphin and beautiful cloud.
Just before that, a beautiful cloud rose up with a brilliant light behind it. It had colors of teal and pink shining through and simply could not be captured on camera. But it felt like Jesus himself was behind that cloud and we continued to be comforted by His closeness.
I also took immense comfort in the fact that many of you reading this have walked this path before, you have been brave enough to share your experience, and you have walked the path ahead. Many of you are pregnant with or already holding your rainbow babies so I knew that I was not alone and there is still hope. For that reason alone, I knew that I would share our story publicly one day.
This was not at all how we planned to spend our vacation and while it sucked, it was also a true gift to have time away from our girls and the craziness of life as Kevin and I processed and grieved together.
A week later, we were home and I had an appointment with my midwife. I went to the ultrasound (all by myself, thanks Covid) and officially heard the news that we had lost our baby. I was grateful that the miscarriage was uncomplicated and no further treatment was needed but it was obviously a hard day.
Since then, life has been full of ups and downs and all of my daily tasks have gotten just a little bit harder. Dishes are left on my counter far longer than before. Thankfully Kevin has kept up with them when I just can’t find it in me. My garden was basically left to wither away and I’ve needed much more alone time as crying has become a normal and healthy part of my week.
Grief comes and goes as it pleases. Sometimes it disguises itself as annoyance, other times it looks like anger, and still other times it looks like renewed energy to pour myself into work and forget the pain.
The hardest part is figuring out how to mourn and parent young children at the same time and to anyone who has gone through that, you have a special place in my heart. I’ve felt impatience bubble up quicker than ever before and a temper rise up within me that I don’t know what to do with. In general, I just haven’t been able to be the mom I long to be.
But little kids are also great sympathizers and though my youngest has no idea what’s happening, my 4 year old has been especially sweet through this. She’s always there to give a hug when she sees the tears. If you are a grieving parent, I encourage you to invite your kids into your inner world, atleast in age appropriate ways. They can handle it and it will build the bond between you as you both move forward.
As I’ve slowly started to collect myself, I decided to do a few basic tests and I recently found out that I have insulin resistance/prediabetes. This has been a battle all its own filled with numerous finger pricks, diet changes, and reading anything I can on how to reverse it. I will likely share more about this journey another time.
Dealing with all of this in the middle of a pandemic has made it difficult to know how and when to talk about it all. I am typically a verbal processor but not being allowed within 6 feet of people for more than 15 minutes has limited my opportunities to discuss such a heavy topic. When I have had a chance to bring it up, it’s all felt a bit awkward knowing that hugs are generally frowned upon right now.
Because of that, I have a heavy burden for anyone who has been going through something difficult this year. We were not meant to handle life’s obstacles in isolation. It just makes everything worse. And though I know the internet is a sad replacement for face to face conversation, let me just say that if you are dealing with something hard right now, please feel free to reach out. I am here to talk whenever!
Despite the obvious hardships we are going through this year, I can honestly say we have had many, many good days as well. I remember once before this happened, I was listening to a bridge in the song WayMaker declaring that there is “joy unspeakable when I walk through the valley.”
As I sang that line an honest question entered my heart: “Would I have joy while going through a hard time?”
I really didn’t know the answer to that then. I haven’t been through too many very hard seasons in life before. But now, after walking through these last two months, I know I truly can say that with Christ as the director of your life and guide to absolute truth, there IS joy in the valley. His plans are GOOD and full of LOVE. He is making all things right. He loves justice and also gives mercy. Death was never His desire for us so one day He will defeat it completely and fill us with everlasting LIFE. It’s so great to have that hope within.
Our baby existed for a total of 29 days. We knew about him/her for 19 of them. I won’t ever understand why we had to lose this baby so quickly but in his/her short little life I learned so much. This life showed me that love does not cause anxiety but instead it dissipates it. It led me to my biggest fear in losing a child yet it showed me I can walk my way through it. It proved to me that death is not actually the worst thing that can happen to someone, but not knowing Jesus is.
There will forever be a hole in our family where this little one once lived. And in a year where every single thing feels hard due to a pandemic, injustice, and division, this loss has been a bit too much to handle at times.
But as a result of all of this, so much depth has been added to our hearts and our family and for that I’m truly grateful. We celebrate you little one, and praise God for your life, no matter how short it was, and we truly cannot wait to meet you in Heaven one day. Until then, we love you. ♥️