October is Pregnancy and Infant Loss Awareness Month. Statistics show 1 in 4 pregnancies end in miscarriage.
This has taken me a long time to pen down because it has been so hard, but I felt like this was a good way to remember and help me process some of it at the same time.
I Will Never Hold You In My Arms
I knew you were there.
I knew before I ever went to the store to get the first test.
I knew as I stood in front of the tests in tears at Walgreen’s on July 5th.
I knew the test was going to come back positive before I ever took it, and it did.
I had waited my whole life for my body to finally do what it was created to do, and there you were.
You were alive and a life growing inside of me.
My precious baby that I had prayed for two years for us to conceive.
I remember walking out of the bathroom with tears just rolling down my cheeks, and looking at your daddy as I handed him the test.
He said, “Let’s wait until we are sure.”
We were a both a bit in shock after month after month of negatives for two years.
I waited a couple of days and took another one.
It was positive.
A few days later I went to the doctor and they also confirmed that we had a sweet little one growing inside of me.
And let me tell you that I wanted you.
We wanted you.
I wanted to hold you in my arms.
I wanted to watch you grow up.
I wanted to see who you would look more like and act like.
Would you come out with red hair?
Would you have green eyes like mine? Or blue eyes like your daddies? Or would you have brown eyes that were entirely your own?
Would you be a girl or a boy?
I wanted to name you.
Because from the moment I knew you were there, I saw your whole life out in front of you.
I could hear your laughter as you ran across the living room.
I could see you playing in the dirt.
I could see it all.
I couldn’t wait to share the good news with your siblings.
I couldn’t wait to see you play with your brother and your big sisters.
I couldn’t wait to see your daddy hold you.
I couldn’t wait for your grandparents and aunts and uncles and cousins to meet you.
And then there were complications that led me back to the doctor.
My heart shattered when she looked at me and she said I was miscarrying.
I remember sitting in her office in tears feeling numb.
This could not be happening.
I had waited so long for you.
She told me there was nothing to be done and to just go home and get comfy.
Yet I still held onto hope that it would all be okay.
We prayed so hard.
Your daddy tried to keep me positive.
And just like I knew you were there, I also know when you were not. That date is forever burned into my brain: July 16th.
My sweet little Baby Raspberry, as we called you, was gone.
Life is so fleeting at times.
I still don’t know how to process it all.
I know there have been some very well meaning people that have told me some things that were not comforting and it has really caused me to re-evaluate what I say to people in moments of grief.
It is not comforting to hear, “There will be another baby.”
We wanted this one.
You weren’t a cake that we tried to bake that flopped in the oven so we threw it out to start again.
That’s how flippant I feel some people treat miscarriage, and some of the ones that said things to me were ones that had gone through it too, and their words are probably based off words that someone else said to them during their time of grief.
It is not comforting to have someone say there was something wrong with the baby and God made a mistake so He took the baby. God doesn’t make mistakes, and He didn’t take my baby. I don’t know what happened, but I do know He didn’t do it.
I have never questioned if God existed.
I have never questioned how big He is or how capable He is.
I never questioned His sovereignty.
I have never questioned His goodness.
I do not know why, and yes, there were times that I said it out loud. My husband would look at me and say, “Don’t. God isn’t doing this.”
I do know that I told Him that I would still serve Him even if…I will still praise You and love You because I know You have a plan for my life.
And, no, losing my baby wasn’t part of it.
I also know that as much as my own daddy’s heart breaks when I am hurting, His does too.
Did I have anger? Yes.
Did I question where He was in that moment? Yes.
Did I grieve? Absolutely yes. I am still grieving.
But I never for one moment thought God did this because I know He promised if it wasn’t good, it wasn’t from Him.
He didn’t take our baby.
He didn’t need another flower in His garden.
He didn’t do that.
He didn’t do this.
I also know He has never left me.
I had to get to a point where I could crawl into His lap over and over and just let Him hold me while I wept.
I wasn’t sure what to do with my life for a while afterward because part of me felt so empty.
I was also angry at my body.
Why couldn’t it just do what it was supposed to?
Why couldn’t it just hang on to my baby?
What was wrong with me?
I have also had to deal with fear.
What if I can’t get pregnant again?
What if you were it for us?
What if I do and I lose another one?
I have had to fight those fears pretty hard.
I also had to come to terms with the fact that it wasn’t my body that did this either.
The devil did, and he is who I am angry at.
Baby Raspberry, we loved you.
I loved you.
Your daddy loved you.
We still do.
I told you so.
He told you so at night before we went to sleep.
He put his hand on my belly and said, “I love you, Baby Raspberry.” And I would just smile.
You were there.
You were ours.
We wanted you.
We will never get to hold you in our arms.
But we will always hold you in our hearts.
And I know Jesus and our family that is in Heaven are taking care of you until we get there.