Moving on from Miscarriage

As time carries on, and the weeks and months grow into many that separate us from the first news of our untimely miscarriage, we move forward.  I would say that time heals, but I would be lying.  Time removes the sting, the punch in the gut sort of feeling, and maybe even the heartbreak, but I am finding it doesn’t seem to remove the, I’ll call it…the abyss that is miscarriage.   The abyss…the God-given area of our heart that attaches to its unborn, the part of ourselves that gives completely to that in which grows in her depths.  Oftentimes, we are unaware of just how deep our feelings and connection goes until our baby is born or until we have time to feel its bond.  Yet, it is real no matter where you are in you are in your pregnancy and when you lose it, you know that this special area of your heart, created just for this little person, will forever be vacant, will forever wonder if and what.  There are big reminders…dates, pregnancies in similar spots and there are small reminders…musings of your mind, the to do list in the back of your head that you began to formulate upon realization of conception, the shoes you saved for the what if it was this gender or the picture you found at the thrift store – perfect for your future child’s room.  Yes, it’s there…my abyss, my longing for my child.  I wonder how this space will evolve over time.  Will I ever be able to rectify its presence? Time marches on, friends and family move forward, miscarriage is often forgotten, but a mother carries forever her abyss, her God-given hole for her baby.

Even in the face of knowing we get to move forward and try again and are deep in the planning stages for our next embryo transfer, I feel the longing.  I almost unknowingly calculate in my mind where I would have been in my pregnancy.  I can’t help it, I long to be able to begin to feel the movement of my baby, to have scheduled the anatomy ultrasound and be in the planning stages of a gender reveal party.  I am hopeful that there will be news of another baby soon enough, a successful transfer and a celebration of a healthy pregnancy.  In time, I trust I will have these things again.  In time, I know that my heart will feel fulfilled and that it will give immeasurably more love than I ever thought it capable to the sweet lovelies whom I will bear.  In time, the pain will continue to lesson, slowly replaced with a heartfelt understanding that God always KNEW what he was up to.

aka…FAITH.

Like so many other battles I have endured, Faith enters the picture, triumphant and certain.  There are just so many things in life you have to accept on Faith.  We have a very limited understanding compared to God.  Ultimately, healing comes with trusting in His promises. Our Faith carries us forward.

Faith that all will be made right some day.

Faith that He makes everything beautiful in time.

Faith that my baby dances with Jesus.

Faith that He is GOOD.

Faith that He will give me the strength to forever carry on, to bear even more hurts and to live in even greater JOY.

To Him be the Glory.  To Him I surrender my heart, my abyss…please fill it with your love.

Beautiful life: A eulogy to our unborn child

WARNING:  Graphic content related to miscarriage

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Tonight we buried our little baby.  No longer than the finger nail of my pinky, opaque and beautiful.  Nothing could have prepared me for the emotion I would feel when I saw that little formed body just beneath the translucent sac that had once developed to nurture it and protect it.  It was obvious when I passed the gestational sac earlier this evening.  There it lay, surrounded in the soft cushion of my uterine lining.  I had been waiting for it all day.  Early this morning, I had taken the misoprostol.  I was hopeful that everything would pass with a single dose but didn’t know when or how it would go.  Mostly I have been emotionally numb since learning this past Wednesday that there was no longer a heartbeat and that our baby had died.  But my emotions ripped to the surface as I held this little life between my fingers.  I went and grabbed my husband and he too was shaken out of his own numbness.  This was it.  This was the little life we have been praying for, hoping for, and loving for so long.  This is the little life that had already been through so much.  Created via IVF almost two years and then frozen for most of that tme.  After a short thaw in April, it had quickly found a snug little home deep inside me where it grew as best it could.  Within weeks of it making its home within me, it endured uncontrollable retching, it’s mother with acute appendicitis and subsequent surgery.  Somehow it endured.  It would seem that so many would give up on this precious being two weeks later when an initial ultrasound revealed no heartbeat.  We were told to stop our medications, that it was pointless, that the pregnancy wasn’t viable.  Instead, we held out for a miracle and waited.  This little embryo defied all odds and continued to grow over the following week.  5 days later, at our ultrasound that was meant to confirm death, instead showed a beautiful little life with a steady heartbeat.  We celebrated the miraculous and praised God for this tiny person.  In the end, it wasn’t meant to be.  At least not on this side of heaven.  We trust and believe with all our hearts that this little life is dancing with Jesus.  We find comfort in the knowledge that he already knows LOVE truer and deeper than any found here on earth.  This little life waits to be reunited with his earthly family, for the only family he has known.  But he waits with strength and courage, for he has found peace with Jesus.

Tonight we buried our baby.  We found the perfect spot.  We dug a hole and we placed him in the ground.   Many tears were shed and fervent prayers were offered up.  It was a precious moment shared between my husband and I under the darkened sky.

For us, he will always be in our hearts.  We are forever grateful to God for allowing us these few treasured weeks together.