11 Oct A Grief Remembered
“I had a dream you were pregnant again.”
A slow smile spread over my lips at my sister’s words. Her expression change from nonchalance to surprise.
It was so early, I wasn’t planning to tell anyone yet. But now, everyone at the party knew. I remember what I was wearing that day. I remember that I was vibrant with anticipation. The question of whether or not to have a third child had been answered for us with this unexpected blessing. Everyone beamed at us, reflecting the joy I felt.
The next week, I started bleeding.
I reminded myself that I’d bled at some point during both of my healthy pregnancies.
Not this early, though. Not this much.
Surely the ultrasound would show everything was fine.
But it didn’t. It wasn’t.
I’ll never forget sitting down with the nurse in the cold, hard conference room.
This is where they take you to tell you your worst fears have come true, I’d thought.
The nurse told me that what was in my womb wasn’t a baby at all, but a blighted ovum. As though that made it better. As though her words weren’t going to twist the knife that was already cutting into my soul.
It was a baby to me.
I know it would have been worse if I’d been further along. I know it would be worse to have heard the heartbeat and then have it stop. I know it would be so much worse if I’d had to hold my baby and say good bye.
It was still a loss, though. It shredded me. We grieved.
I still cry sometimes.
On this anniversary of the end of that third pregnancy, that happens to fall smack dab in the middle of Baby Loss Awareness Week, I cried fresh tears. I hadn’t been thinking about that baby, until social media reminded me October is Pregnancy Loss Awareness Month, and I remembered the date. Six years ago.
If you’ve lost a baby, my heart is with you today. Know that our heavenly Father collects all your tears. His heart hurts with yours. He’s holding you, and I believe with all my heart He’s holding your little one, too.