October 15 Pregnancy and Infant Loss Remembrance Day
For all the babies taken from us too soon,
for our babies lost through miscarriage,
for our babies lost through stillborn,
for our babies lost to SIDS,
we will always remember you.
I can’t believe that it has been five years since we became pregnant with our first baby, a secret we kept from the whole world, wanting to protect this babe (and our hearts) from that chance of losing you. And we did. We lost our first baby to miscarriage at just under 10 weeks, a few days after New Years 2014.
Rereading that blog post, after finally finding the courage to write about our miscarriage two years later, brings back so many emotions and makes my heart hurt so bad. We didn’t know what our future held, we didn’t know that we would be blessed with Emerson and Everly in our lives, God giving us the privilege to be their parents here on Earth. And while at the time, nothing made sense, I have finally found peace in it all. Not that we have ever forgot, but it is true that time heals, or at the very least, you just learn to live with a hole in your heart.
There aren’t any words that I can say to make those out there who are grieving their losses right now feel any better. Having come from that place of total emptiness, I feel like I should have all of the appropriate words and insights to say to those who need it. Yet, while typing this, I’m scared to write anything, tiptoeing around my words afraid of offending someone who is in their darkest of days. I was there. I remember it clearly. The only thing I feel that may be some sort of comfort is reading my blog post.
If I can offer any type of guidance, I would strongly suggest just reaching out and talking about it. Some days are easier than others. There is always sadness and guilt, some days you learn to mask it better than others. It took me two years to open up and feel comfortable talking about it. But finally when I did, it wasn’t so much as talking about a loss, but it was discussing with my peers, friends, and the world about how much hope it brought us. People won’t have all the right things to say, maybe they won’t say anything at all. But just talk. Let it out, don’t hold back.
1 in 4 pregnancies end in miscarriage. 1 in 4. We all have four close female friends. It’s more common than you think, and it’s absolutely gut-wrenching to think that. Please help me bring awareness and join me in lighting a candle at 7pm as we remember these angel babies taken from us too soon, gone but never forgotten.
If you can find any solace or comfort in my story, click this link to read about our miscarriage loss. It’s long. It’s deep. And it’s raw. But I wrote from the heart, and I hope it can shed some light on at least one person’s journey.