miscarriage Archives - Chrysalosity

Grieving Our Miscarriage: One Year Later

March 21, 2020 · LIFESTYLE

One year ago this week, miscarriage changed our lives.

It's crazy to think that it happened a year ago now. To me, it feels like it's been a lifetime. So much has changed over the last year, but even as life moves on after miscarriage, it's important to remember the short life we loved and lost.

Recently I was sharing about my miscarriage to a woman who had gone through her own loss over 30 years ago. She went on about how she didn't understand the whole "rainbow baby thing." Why would anyone want to be reminded of something so awful? And why would you want your "rainbow baby" to know that they weren't the original plan? None of it made sense to her.

People deal with loss in different ways, I guess. But as for me, I choose to remember our miscarriage. I choose to think on the fleeting joy of our baby's short life and the searing pain of loss. I choose to reserve a piece of my heart for the baby that will always be mine, even if only for a few weeks. And I choose to give the baby I'm carrying now the gift of knowing how she fits into God's perfect plan.

Why Aren't You Over It?

The woman I mentioned previously was of a different generation than me. And I see this stark difference in the way that our mothers and grandmothers rarely, if ever, brought up their own experiences with miscarriage. Previous generations thought of miscarriage as a very private issue, carrying the burden of grief on their own. And even though this woman was willing to speak with me about her loss, it was clearly something she didn't want to remember or dwell on for long.

She just wanted to be over it.

I don't judge her or anyone else for dealing with miscarriage privately. For some, it's too painful to talk about, and maybe grieving alone over such an intimate loss is the only way that makes sense.

For me, however, it was important to shed light on my grief and to honor the short life of my baby. I needed to process it through writing in order to begin healing, and women my age are increasingly willing to open up about their experiences with miscarriage.

Now, one year later, I find it equally as important to continue talking about it. The little life I carried hasn't faded into oblivion just because time has passed. I carried that life, if only for a few weeks. Our baby was valuable and loved beyond measure. And our hearts are still sad that we will never meet that sweet child on this side of heaven.

Honoring the Baby We Never Met

When we went through the miscarriage last year, I made a point to remember our sweet baby in a special way. I bought an opal ring as a way to remember our baby daily. (Opal is the birthstone for October - the month he or she would have been born.)

I still wear the opal ring. I look down at it and feel... complex. Sometimes I cry. Sometimes I smile. But every time I see it, I remember that sweet life. He or she deserves that space in my heart. That short life changed mine forever - and I'll forever be grateful for it. My children will know that they have a sibling in heaven that we will all meet one day - and what a sweet day that will be!

It's okay to think back on the losses in our lives - actually, I think it's a good thing. Our hearts were made to feel deeply, and suppressing those feelings would be denying our humanity. In allowing our hearts to grieve, even after years have passed, we can also open our hearts to the comfort that lies on the other side of grief.

"Rainbow Babies" & Moving On

First, let me just say that I know how blessed I am to be pregnant again. I know there are many women who wish they were in my shoes. That's why I often refer to this pregnancy as our "rainbow baby" - she is truly a very special gift, and I don't take that lightly.

To me, our "rainbow baby" is a sign of God's faithfulness to me. He saw the storm we went through in dealing with our miscarriage and heard the desire of my heart to be a mother. And by some undeserved grace, He gave me this sweet baby girl (who's currently wiggling around and treating my bladder like a trampoline).

Yes, she is a reminder that my plan was not God's plan.

She is, in a way, a reminder of a time of great pain in my life. But so much more than that, she is a reminder of how God is good, how He loves us as a Father and blesses us abundantly.

Had we not gone through a long journey with trying to conceive and pregnancy loss before this pregnancy, we may have never fully appreciated the miracle of life. Our hearts are so immensely grateful, and I'm overjoyed to be an open book about that!

As life moves on and time passes, I know I will spend more time focusing on the family that surrounds me and perhaps less time thinking about the child we lost. But each year when March passes, I'll re-open that piece of my heart for the baby we never met. I'll choose to remember what it felt like to endure that pain. It was a very real experience - one that has shaped me into who I am now.

Even when the years go by, I will continue to pray for healing and grace as my mother's heart reflects on what might have been. Though I grieve from year to year, I will continually hope in the promise of God's sure faithfulness.

With all the love of a mother's heart,

If you or someone you know has experienced a pregnancy loss, feel free to check out this list of resources. If you liked this post or know someone who would, make sure you share it!

An Open Letter to the Baby I Never Had

October 15, 2019 · LIFESTYLE

To the baby I never had,

Today, October 15, is what they call Pregnancy and Infant Loss Remembrance Day. I didn't think I'd ever commit that to memory; I didn't think I'd have to. But I guess nobody ever does.

If things were different, I'd be 39 weeks pregnant with you right now. I might even already be holding you in my arms, exhausted after another night of not sleeping. But just like any night, I slept just fine. I see pictures of friends who are about to have babies and think, "that could've been us." But it will never be us. And although I've come to accept that, I still think about you.

Sweet, sweet baby - I will never stop thinking about you.

I will always wonder if you might have shared a birthday with your daddy. I'll always wonder whether you were a boy or a girl, whose nose you'd have, what color your hair would've been. I'll wonder forever - even as our family grows, God-willing. Every passing October will forever remind me of you.

Sometimes I cry when I think about the life we might have had. I grieve the story we never got to tell. But, for reasons I may never fully understand, we weren't meant to tell that story. I was meant to tell this story: one of great love, loss, and hope in God's promises.

My love, I will always remember you on this day. For such a small, briefly beating heart, you have impacted my life and work beyond what I ever could've imagined. You've taught me lessons I never thought I'd need to learn. I am grateful for the 9 weeks we shared together, and I'll cherish your memory for a lifetime in my heart.

In Loving Remembrance of You,

Your Mama

Things I Discovered After Miscarriage | Day 4 of #30DaysofBlogging

September 12, 2019 · LIFESTYLE

Some events seem unimaginable - until you're forced to go through them.

That's how I felt when I went through my miscarriage. Everything went dark for me - and I didn't know how I was going to get through it. But by the grace of God, I did - and I learned a few things in dealing with its aftereffects.

Not everyone is going to get it.

Some people will come around you to support you as best they can after your miscarriage. After sharing the news about ours, there were some who sent us cards, took us out for breakfast so we could just talk openly, and counseled us through our grief. I felt seen on Mother's Day when several couples in our church gave me a hug and a card and made me feel included.

But for everyone who gets it, there will be many others who don't. One of the first things most people are quick to say after you've gone through a miscarriage is "you can always try again." It's sort of like saying "everything happens for a reason" at a funeral. These statements disregard your grief and the life that was lost, even though the people saying them have good intentions. Try to have grace and patience (even if you may want to scream).

On the other hand, some won't say anything at all, because they don't know what to say. I remember feeling like I was suffering silently because my miscarriage was too awkward for anyone to talk about. I felt alone, but I knew that miscarriage was something that, until recently, was a taboo subject. Not everyone will know how to express their sympathy for you - but that doesn't necessarily mean you've been forgotten.

It can take a long time for your cycle to normalize again.

After my miscarriage, it took weeks for my HCG levels to fall. I had to continue going in for blood tests every week for my doctor to monitor things, but the process moved very slowly for me. This is different for everyone - but for me, it was a painful weekly reminder of what had happened.

My cycle finally came back months after my miscarriage, but even then, it was longer and more irregular than normal. If this is your experience, remember that your body just needs time to regulate and try to be patient. Some may go on to ovulate again right away, but you may not. Your body has just been through a rollercoaster of hormone changes, and it needs time to stabilize.

Miscarriage = Trauma

You may find yourself fearing the idea of a new pregnancy because of a previous miscarriage. The idea of going through that horrible experience again can be overwhelming and may spur anxiety. Miscarriage is a traumatic event, and for many, the thought of it hurts even years later. Not only is miscarriage death, but it is a death that occurs inside a mother's body. It's both physically and emotionally painful, and it's impossible to forget that kind of trauma.

I can't stress this enough: seek counseling. You've got a lot of emotions to unpack, and you need to be able to talk through them with someone who is trained to help you. There is no shame in counseling - only healing.

You will go through a moving spectrum of emotions - even months later.

Initially, you'll go through the stages of grief when you suffer a miscarriage. Like any death, it can leave you emotionally raw at first, but these feelings will soften as time goes on. Eventually, you'll be able to accept that it happened, it happened to you, and that you need to pick up the pieces and make something from them.

But even if you do get counseling, that doesn't mean you'll be "fixed." Even months later, I still experience feelings of bitterness, anger, doubt, hopelessness, and sadness, even though I've already come to an acceptance with what happened. It's human nature to feel jealousy when it seems like pregnancy comes easy to others, but not to you. It's normal to still wonder why you had to be a part of the statistic.

In this life, we're given many painful experiences that can feel isolating, frustrating, and hopeless; but take heart that no matter your past, present, or future, you are not alone. It's okay to be upset - just know that you can face this, and in doing so you will inspire other women who will inevitable walk the same dark road.