Four Months, Lost Twice

Image Source
Image Source

Part of me tried to figure out if there was a better time to post this. There isn’t. The last few months have been the hardest few months I’ve experienced in a very long time.

On December 5th, I found out I was pregnant. On January 10th, I started miscarrying. On January 17th, I had a d & c.

D&C 01/17/14

My heart broke. Again. This was my second pregnancy loss in 4 months. I was just starting to ‘be okay’ from the loss of my last pregnancy. I don’t have enough words to describe the deep sadness that I feel. However, I am not hopeless. Sometimes I cry. Sometimes I’m okay. But I’ve decided that I’m going to find freedom in being where I am, where and when I need to.

There really isn’t anything that anyone can say to take away my pain. There are no perfect words to soothe the heart that experiences loss. But, I am so incredibly blessed to have family and friends that love and support me with tears, cards, text messages, flowers, and lots of candy…and I mean the good candy.

If you know anyone that has or is experiencing loss, *PLEASE* don’t do or say things like this:
-“At least…”
-“Don’t Worry…”
-“It was meant to be…”
– Don’t compare experiences because grief is different for everyone.
– If you have kids, go extremely light on the kid talk.
– If you have kids, don’t make a habit of complaining about being tired, not using the bathroom alone, posting those “tags about pregnancy” on Facebook when you know you have friends or family members who have experienced the loss of a child. It hurt deeper than you know.
– Don’t get mad if we don’t hold your babies or go to your baby showers.

If you really want to try, DO these things:
– Ask how we are doing without trying to fix it.
– If you’re not sure what to do, ask.
– If you are looking for something to say, try these: I’m sorry this happened; I love you; I’m here.
– Do understand if we can’t attend you baby showers or kid parties.

The most beautiful thing that a few of my pregnant friends and friends with pregnant family members did was tell me before they made it public. They didn’t have to do this, but it meant the world to me.

One day, I will post a picture of my beautiful child that I will share with you as a testament of hope. Until then, I will continue living because that it all I can do. I will live well until the one that my heart longs for comes into my life.


To Those Who’ve Loved & Lost

This specific blog post goes out to those TTC-ing after loss, had to give birth to your baby knowing that you’d only have a few precious moments with them, and to those that experienced the loss of a child.

My dear friends Kara and Andy had this experience and they are sharing their process in the most authentic way through their blog Journey to Baby. I hope that this post from there blog serves as a comfort or as a way to possibly put words to help with your process. If you get a moment, please check out their blog and bid them adieu.


She was beautiful. She is my joy. Her tiny little life awakened love in me so deep it renders me breathless. We spent 5 long months together. She is the only person who knows what my heart sounds like from the inside. While every mother’s worst nightmare came true for us, I was still overwhelmed with joy and pride on the night of her birth. It was a strange feeling, like I had stepped outside of myself as I watched my family weep over her. I couldn’t really grasp in that moment why everyone was so sad. I wanted to shout, “But just look at her, she is perfect.” I waited so long to meet her and here she was in my arms. Obviously, it could go unsaid that I would have given my left arm to have waited even longer. Regardless, she is ours. Her little combinations of wonderful will never be repeated. She is a work of The Lord and we were amazed. She had Andy’s mouth and my nose. Her ears were marvelous in all their tiny folds. She had light blonde eyelashes and a dusting of the same on her head. We wondered about her hair since mine was jet black and Andy’s was blonde as a kid. She had long little legs and big feet. We laughed because her second toe was longer than her first, just like her dad. She was just under 10 inches and weighed not quite a pound. She was our tiny but perfect little girl. Sometimes, I’ll catch a glimpse of Andy and it takes my breathe away how much she looks like him. I’m so thankful for the hours we spent with her, but I could have held her forever. She isn’t a tragedy, she is our daughter. She continues to inspire me to dig deeper, be kinder, and to live in the moment. You truly never know how quickly things can change. She has brought so many amazing people into our lives and has given me a second family amongst my support group. She motivates me to help others and to share the hard stuff in life, too. I’d give anything to have her back, but until we are reunited in our restoration through Christ, I will remember her every detail. I will honor her with my tears and my laughter. I will be present. I will live with her in the deepest parts of my heart. She is my one and only, Everlee.