Every Line

We have 8 children!  Three are earthside and 5 are angels. Statistically, 1 in 4 women will suffer a miscarriage. Only 1% of women trying to conceive will suffer recurrent pregnancy loss. I am that 1%. That harsh reality doesn't make my heart hurt any more or less. It does however, motivate me to speak out about my story. Before we openly talked about our miscarriages, we rarely heard about people who had experienced one. Why is something so common, so silently suffered?  It is the greatest emotional roller coaster I've ever experienced. Sharing my story won't bring my babies back but I refuse to let their lives go in vain. I hope and pray that my journey can bring comfort to someone suffering similar circumstances.  

I mentioned Paisley was our 4th angel, but the first requiring delivery. All 5 of our angels have names!  Curtis, Aubrey, Maverick, Paisley Jane, and Carly Rose. We feel so strongly that they are part of our family, whether they were present for a day or until we leave this earth. Naming them gave us comfort and gives us a way to talk about them individually. They all have a story which started with a pee stick and a double pink line. Every positive pregnancy test created an instant connection for me as that baby's mommy!  Every line that showed we were expecting, led to immediate dreams that would include our forever child. The next step was always an Internet search for the due date calculator!  Even after we had multiple losses, those things were still instantaneous. As hard as I tried to remain distant with my pregnancies after our losses, it was impossible to deny that miraculous reality- that I was a mom again. No matter how hard I tried to keep my heart protected by "not getting attached", there was no denying the love was there, regardless of my efforts to self-protect. 

Our grief journey began with our second child, Curtis. We were overjoyed when we found out we were pregnant. It was Mike's first experience with pregnancy and I couldn't wait to share the news. After seeing the 2 pink lines, I immediately ran out and bought a Big Sister shirt for Kaitlyn who was 2. We anxiously awaited his arrival home from work that day!  She was running around the house, oblivious to what was actually happening. When he came home, I stood back with camera in hand and watched as she greeted him while sporting her new shirt!  We were thrilled to be growing our family. Things went smoothly for a few weeks until I started having some problems with mild bleeding. No cramps or anything significant but scary nonetheless. We had labs done which all came back normal. The issues continued and we were finally far enough along to have an ultrasound. Our scan showed an empty gestational sac, meaning there wasn't a baby. We left with the hope of not being as far along as we thought and that when we returned in a week, we'd see our baby. What a grueling week that was!  Our second scan confirmed the worst, that the pregnancy never developed further so we scheduled a D&C for May 1, 2008. I was 10 weeks pregnant and would've been due on December 14th. 

I couldn't believe it was happening to me. The doctor told me miscarriages are very common and that I'll likely not experience another one. I found no solace in those words. I didn't want to "not have another miscarriage". I wanted to never have one and not be in the 25%. Mike and I didn't know how to grieve together so we grew far apart during those dark days following our angel's death. I was devastated and couldn't find a way to communicate my pain. He was confused and didn't know what to do with a wife that pushed him away. I spent the majority of the following year grieving in silence about our loss. Even though we had told everyone about our pregnancy and ultimately the miscarriage, it was not a topic discussed with friends or family. 

All of this occurred as I was transitioning between job positions. I was moving from the trauma ICU as a nurse to the NICU. How could this be?  I've just lost a child and now I'm expected to work with babies and care for them. My heart grew bitter as I cared for babies who weren't cared about or born early due to negligence. I became angry that women would harm their babies with drugs and manage to have a baby, scarred and tormented with drug withdrawals upon arrival to this earth. Why were they allowed to have a child and mine was stripped away. I still struggle with those same thoughts, almost 7 years later. 

We honored our angel in many ways. First we named our baby!  We named him Curtis in honor of Mike's mom who died when he was 25. She had ovarian cancer and although she was in remission, she died from complications as a result of her weakened immune system. His mom, Ann, called her IV pole Curtis while she received her cancer treatments. She and Mike had plans to get a dog after her recovery and name it Curtis. It seemed fitting to name our child in honor of her memory. We didn't know if the baby would've been a boy but since we already had a girl, we chose to believe our angel was a boy. 

We bought a garden plaque for our flower bed in the front of the house that reads: "Our hearts still ache in sadness, and secret tears still flow. What it meant to lose you, no one will ever know."  If you come to my house today, you'll find it in the garden, at the walkway to the front door.

We also memorialized him with a ring. I wanted something to carry with me as I carried the emptiness of a childless womb. We had his birthstone placed in my original wedding band that was waiting for a purpose (long story for a different day). What better way to utilize it than to honor our child that was conceived in love!

Since he was due in December, as the holiday and his due date approached, we bought an ornament of an angel holding a baby. The ornament sits on our shelf and every Christmas, even 6 years later, we still put it on our tree!  

Sometimes these small tokens of our love blend into the background of everyday life, just as the pictures on your wall at home aren't always noticed by you. Sometimes they catch my eye and bring a smile as I reminisce on the memories. Other times, they become a source of comfort for me when I think about their absence. Honoring our angels has been very therapeutic in our healing process.

Even though we never saw the little bean develop or the flicker of his heartbeat, he was ours. Our love for him and our dreams for him started with a little pink line and his impact on our lives is one that will never fade!