This week I still took my picture because I love looking back and seeing the progress and belly growth, but I won’t be sharing any “details”. Not much has changed from the weeks before and as I find myself getting further along in this pregnancy, there is something I want to share.
Today, October 15th, is National Pregnancy and Infant Loss Remembrance Day. Prior to getting pregnant I rarely heard about people suffering early miscarriages. I knew it happened, and occasionally some brave woman would share her story, but it really seemed to be almost something that was meant to be kept secret. It wasn’t until I had my own miscarriage that I realized just how common they are.
Yes, this is not my first pregnancy. Collin and I were the parents to a sweet baby for only 9 short weeks before learning we had lost it. Never in a million years did I think that miscarriage would be a part of my story. When we went in for our ultrasound and were told the baby was not growing right and had no heartbeat, there are no words to adequately express how I felt. After processing the whole situation I could more easily put a word to my emotions, and the word at the time was…
I immediately felt the loss of something I didn’t even really know, but yet still felt so connected to and in love with. It is hard to explain the almost instant bond that is formed when you see those two little pink lines. I started to dream and plan and wonder all about the sweet baby I was carrying inside. Of course after telling Collin we were both so elated and started to dream and plan together. Sadly, we only had 4 weeks of dreaming about that baby’s future.
I know that Collin went through his own range of emotions and was deeply hurt by the sudden loss, and he was so amazing through the whole thing, but part of me felt like I was the only one who truly understood the true pain that was happening. After just having told our families of the great news, we had to turn right back around and deliver the heartbreaking news. For about a week I felt so alone and lost and went through so many wild emotions I had never experienced before. I really felt like there was no one who could understand what I had gone through. But slowly, as more close friends and family heard the news, I learned of others who had gone through miscarriages and had powerful, encouraging words to offer.
I couldn’t help but wonder why so many of these women had never told anyone or spoken about it. I felt a form of immediate relief each time I learned of a new person who had been in that place. I didn’t feel so alone any longer and each person offered me the hope that I would not feel heartbroken forever. My spirits were lifted just from knowing that there were other women in my life that had walked that terrible path and come out better on the other side.
Others offered me kind words, scriptures, prayers, and most of all… true understanding. That is a huge part of what got me through. I stopped having thoughts of it being my fault or anger toward God for letting me go through that. I realized that we simply live in a broken world and terrible things happen, but there is redemption and healing. Just knowing I had support made a world of difference.
But somehow I still found myself keeping my miscarriage a secret. Partly because I didn’t want to look like I was begging for pity. But also because I still felt like it was almost offensive to talk about and may bother others. So for 11 months I kept it hidden from everyone but close friends and family. It wasn’t until I recently read this article that I felt compelled to share my story.
There is a quote in the article that says;