You hear this word and you automatically have one of two reactions, sadness or awkwardness. Miscarriage is not a topic most people tend to want to talk about with others. The person going through it may really only want to discuss it with their doctor.
I will never forget the date. It was June 22nd, 2019. I was asleep and around 2 o’clock in the morning, I awoke with a pain in my side. I was 9 weeks pregnant. I started praying, “Please, God, no, not again…” but there it was. The blood on my hand and the toilet paper.
I was having a miscarriage.
I was silent, mad at myself and infuriated with my body. Even though I know the cause of miscarriages is scientific and biological, I was angry to the point of hate towards my own body. I cleaned myself up, crawled into bed, hugged my husband and whispered, “I lost the baby.” I cried myself to sleep in my husband’s arms.
The following Monday was going to be our first appointment with our doctor (since they usually don’t see you till your 8-week mark and they only had availability after I was 9 weeks). We went in and I told my doctor what happened.
Saddened, but still needing to do a confirmation, we did a transvaginal ultrasound and confirmed the miscarriage.
Over the course of the following months, I wasn’t myself. I felt like a part of me had died. I hid my hurt and pain in the shower, behind closed doors, letting my tears roll away with the water, away from myself and from everyone including my husband.
Little did I know, my husband was silently battling the loss of our child alone. We both grew up in church and with the knowledge that in the midst of something like this we needed to not only lean on each other but to lean on christ as well especially if it is about the loss of our child. We called a little family meeting and talked about how we felt after this traumatic experience.
We vowed to remember this child. We gave our child a nickname, “Little Cherry”. We would imagine this child healthy, in heaven, with our Lord. On Little Cherry’s approximate due date, we bought flowers for the house, grabbed brunch and spent the day wrapped up together remembering that our strength, faith in Our Lord and love are what keeps us together.
I encourage anyone that is going through this to know you are not alone. I am here for you, praying for you and lifting you up to remember you will have your rainbow baby. No one expects you to forget the child you lost. There will always be the remembrance of that child and the longing to see your child’s face. You will one day.
I give you virtual hugs!
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