I've had this post written for a while. I debated on it and prayed on it and thought about it non-stop.
And then a friend in a similar situation told me, "If I can help even one person, then sharing was worth it." I had been feeling that in my heart, but sometimes it's hard to find the words.
On Christmas Day 2010, we found out we were expecting again.
The emotions I experienced in that moment were overwhelming and conflicting. When you've lost a baby before, all the innocence of pregnancy is torn away. You know that that little stick doesn't guarantee that you will hold a living, breathing, crying, beautiful baby in 9 months.
We were completely and unequivocally thrilled. We can only imagine the blessings more children would bring and want that desperately. But I was also completely and utterly terrified. My hubby is so very positive, so trusting. So we decided early on to try be excited, to try and not let the fear be overwhelming. Our little Monkey was very loved and desperately wanted.
Three weeks later, I went for my first ultrasound and things did not look normal. However, I was sent home with a glimmer of hope and told to come back.
A week later, some progress made a definitive diagnosis still uncertain.
Two more long weeks, waiting, hoping, grieving. Clinging onto the tiniest spark of hope. Just waiting.
The final ultrasound confirmed what we suspected, so we decided to wait it out and miscarry naturally. I needed to know for sure, I needed my body to tell me definitely.
At almost 12 weeks, we lost our Monkey.
I am sure some people will wonder why I am sharing this. Why I have decided to let people know now, after the fact. And to be honest, my feelings on keeping pregnancies secret at all is very complicated. Sharing while in the midst of pain isn't helpful for me, I need to process and deal on my own.
But sharing now... well it means I might be able to help someone. To give just one person some hope and some understanding. To connect with so many other women who face infertility or loss. I'm not sharing for attention, or to make people feel sorry for me. I'm sharing because there were amazing women who stepped up to help me, and I want to pass that on to other women in need.
I have been in a situation twice this month to talk to mother's who have recently lost their babies. I feel so passionately that we, as women, should support one another. Encourage, lift up, cry with, just be women together.
So here I am sharing my story. I'm here. To talk. To scream. To pray. To rant. To agree with all the feelings that you aren't willing to admit to others, but that I promise you I have felt and still do feel.
In case you don't know, we experienced 2 years of infertility before fertility drugs helped conceive our first son, Jarvis. We lost our second son, Job, at 20 weeks, for unknown reasons. We lost Monkey at 12 weeks to a blighted ovum.
I've experienced so much more than I would ever wish on someone, but also so much less than so many others face.
Ultimately, it just makes me so very grateful for Jarvis. For the miracle and blessing that is him. He is amazing and I strive to cherish every single day we have with him. No matter what, I have him, and I am so blessed to be his mother, and if that's all I ever get... it's enough. He's more than enough.
So with you: Now is your time of grief, but I will see you again and you will rejoice, and no one will take away your joy. John 16:22