PGAL=Pregnant After a Loss
That is my unfortunate title. When I go to the doctor's office, there it is on my chart. Of course at the doctor's office they use the tag of "multiple losses" or "history of abortion". Why do they refer to it as "abortion" when I most certainly did not choose to abort my pregnancy? I hate that term. It has such a negative connotation. I much prefer pregnant after a loss. And it's a blessing and a curse at the same time. Blessing because I know that had we not gone through the pain of pregnancy loss (not once, but twice) we may not fully appreciate the blessing and miracle that is now thriving in my body. Curse because I have lived nearly every day of this pregnancy imagining all that could go wrong. Constantly worried and fearful. Taking it "one day at a time" has been a challenge. And getting this far has required a lot of strength and faith. Not only on my part, but on Santi's part as well. He has been a pillar of strength for me, my rock, even though there have been many times in the past year that he must have thought I was downright crazy. I have fought off the fear of not wanting to tell anyone until it was too difficult to hide (never imagining the day I would actually have a baby bump). I have battled with the terrifying fear of buying maternity clothes and trying to squeeze into my regular clothes as long as possible in fear of having to return things (really optimistic, I know). Excited and terrified all at the same time to shop the baby sections...to (gulp) make purchases. But with each passing week I have managed to muster up enough faith to finally allow myself to be the smug pregnant woman I always wished I could be. And it feels good.
Today marks exactly one year since the day we found out not only that we were expecting twins, but that the pregnancy was not viable. This time last year we were heartbroken, devastated, and lost. I faced surgery the next day because my body didn't react as it should have. One year ago today we began a journey to parenthood unlike what we had ever imagined. But that journey has shaped us, our relationship, our faith, and will shape our parenting. And as difficult as it was, I am thankful for it.
This article expresses perfectly what it is like to be pregnant after a loss. I cried when I read it.
Why I Still Keep My Maternity Clothes
Showing posts with label pregnancy loss. Show all posts
Showing posts with label pregnancy loss. Show all posts
Thursday, April 7, 2011
Thursday, September 23, 2010
Season of Rain
I love this song by Josh Garrels, and since I couldn't find it to put into my playlist on here, I decided just to post the lyrics. It really suits this season in our lives.
Season of Rain
Praise the Lord, when it’s all gone wrong
Everything fades but our love shines on
Praise the Lord, when your hope is gone
Everything fades but our love shines on
Like waves on the ocean singing old songs
Like waves on the ocean breaking beyond
So faint the impatient can’t hear
The sound of the one without years
The culmination of every child’s tears
Form tide breaking on the eternal lands
Time stands still
In the moment when we are healed
I questioned if this was real
But then I opened up my heart and I could feel
The feather of a bird in the wind
Fire in the brush if we only
Speak when we must
A hush of heart will become a good treausure
Kept in a place without systems of measure
But as real as an undying love
We will discern what comes from above
Compared to that which could never be sustained
The season of rain will bring labor pain
But its end will be the most wonderful
Joy, Oh Lord
Praise the Lord when it’s all gone wrong
Everything fades but our love shines on
Praise the Lord when your hope is gone
Everything fades but our love shines on
Like waves on the ocean singing old songs
Like waves on the ocean breaking beyond
Thursday, September 9, 2010
What Not to Say...
What we wish you knew about pregnancy loss:
A letter from women to their friends and family
by Elizabeth Soutter Schwarzer
I assert no copyright for the material. Please use it as you see fit to help women who have endured this terrible grief. Thank you.
When women experience the loss of a child, one of the first things they discover they have in common is a list of things they wish no one had ever said to them. The lists tend to be remarkably similar. The comments are rarely malicious - just misguided attempts to soothe.
This list was compiled as a way of helping other people understand pregnancy loss. While generated by mothers for mothers, it may also apply similarly to the fathers who have endured this loss.
When trying to help a woman who has lost a baby, the best rule of thumb is a matter of manners: don't offer your personal opinion of her life, her choices, her prospects for children. No woman is looking to poll her acquaintances for their opinions on why it happened or how she should cope.
-Don't say, "It's God's Will." Even if we are members of the same congregation, unless you are a cleric and I am seeking your spiritual counseling, please don't presume to tell me what God wants for me. Besides, many terrible things are God's Will, that doesn't make them less terrible.
-Don't say, "It was for the best - there was probably something wrong with your baby." The fact that something was wrong with the baby is what is making me so sad. My poor baby never had a chance. Please don't try to comfort me by pointing that out.
-Don't say, "You can always have another one." This baby was never disposable. If had been given the choice between losing this child or stabbing my eye out with a fork, I would have said, "Where's the fork?" I would have died for this baby, just as you would die for your children.
-Don't say, "Be grateful for the children you have." If your mother died in a terrible wreck and you grieved, would that make you less grateful to have your father?
-Don't say, "Thank God you lost the baby before you really loved it." I loved my son or daughter. Whether I lost the baby after two weeks of pregnancy or just after birth, I loved him or her.
-Don't say, "Isn't it time you got over this and moved on?" It's not something I enjoy, being grief-stricken. I wish it had never happened. But it did and it's a part of me forever. The grief will ease on its own timeline, not mine - or yours.
-Don't say, "Now you have an angel watching over you." I didn't want her to be my angel. I wanted her to bury me in my old age.
-Don't say, "I understand how you feel." Unless you've lost a child, you really don't understand how I feel. And even if you have lost a child, everyone experiences grief differently.
-Don't tell me horror stories of your neighbor or cousin or mother who had it worse. The last thing I need to hear right now is that it is possible to have this happen six times, or that I could carry until two days before my due-date and labor 20 hours for a dead baby. These stories frighten and horrify me and leave me up at night weeping in despair. Even if they have a happy ending, do not share these stories with me.
-Don't pretend it didn't happen and don't change the subject when I bring it up. If I say, "Before the baby died..." or "when I was pregnant..." don't get scared. If I'm talking about it, it means I want to. Let me. Pretending it didn't happen will only make me feel utterly alone.
- Don't say, "It's not your fault." It may not have been my fault, but it was my responsibility and I failed. The fact that I never stood a chance of succeeding only makes me feel worse. This tiny little being depended upon me to bring him safely into the world and I couldn't do it. I was supposed to care for him for a lifetime, but I couldn't even give him a childhood. I am so angry at my body you just can't imagine.
-Don't say, "Well, you weren't too sure about this baby, anyway." I already feel so guilty about ever having complained about morning sickness, or a child I wasn't prepared for, or another mouth to feed that we couldn't afford. I already fear that this baby died because I didn't take the vitamins, or drank too much coffee, or had alcohol in the first few weeks when I didn't know I was pregnant. I hate myself for any minute that I had reservations about this baby. Being unsure of my pregnancy isn't the same as wanting my child to die - I never would have chosen for this to happen.
-Do say, "I am so sorry." That's enough. You don't need to be eloquent. Say it and mean it and it will matter.
-Do say, "You're going to be wonderful parents some day," or "You're wonderful parents and that baby was lucky to have you." We both need to hear that.
-Do say, "I have lighted a candle for your baby," or "I have said a prayer for your baby."
-Do send flowers or a kind note - every one I receive makes me feel as though my baby was loved. Don't resent it if I don't respond.
-Don't call more than once and don't be angry if the machine is on and I don't return your call. If we're close friends and I am not responding to your attempts to help me, please don't resent that, either. Help me by not needing anything from me for a while. "
A letter from women to their friends and family
by Elizabeth Soutter Schwarzer
I assert no copyright for the material. Please use it as you see fit to help women who have endured this terrible grief. Thank you.
When women experience the loss of a child, one of the first things they discover they have in common is a list of things they wish no one had ever said to them. The lists tend to be remarkably similar. The comments are rarely malicious - just misguided attempts to soothe.
This list was compiled as a way of helping other people understand pregnancy loss. While generated by mothers for mothers, it may also apply similarly to the fathers who have endured this loss.
When trying to help a woman who has lost a baby, the best rule of thumb is a matter of manners: don't offer your personal opinion of her life, her choices, her prospects for children. No woman is looking to poll her acquaintances for their opinions on why it happened or how she should cope.
-Don't say, "It's God's Will." Even if we are members of the same congregation, unless you are a cleric and I am seeking your spiritual counseling, please don't presume to tell me what God wants for me. Besides, many terrible things are God's Will, that doesn't make them less terrible.
-Don't say, "It was for the best - there was probably something wrong with your baby." The fact that something was wrong with the baby is what is making me so sad. My poor baby never had a chance. Please don't try to comfort me by pointing that out.
-Don't say, "You can always have another one." This baby was never disposable. If had been given the choice between losing this child or stabbing my eye out with a fork, I would have said, "Where's the fork?" I would have died for this baby, just as you would die for your children.
-Don't say, "Be grateful for the children you have." If your mother died in a terrible wreck and you grieved, would that make you less grateful to have your father?
-Don't say, "Thank God you lost the baby before you really loved it." I loved my son or daughter. Whether I lost the baby after two weeks of pregnancy or just after birth, I loved him or her.
-Don't say, "Isn't it time you got over this and moved on?" It's not something I enjoy, being grief-stricken. I wish it had never happened. But it did and it's a part of me forever. The grief will ease on its own timeline, not mine - or yours.
-Don't say, "Now you have an angel watching over you." I didn't want her to be my angel. I wanted her to bury me in my old age.
-Don't say, "I understand how you feel." Unless you've lost a child, you really don't understand how I feel. And even if you have lost a child, everyone experiences grief differently.
-Don't tell me horror stories of your neighbor or cousin or mother who had it worse. The last thing I need to hear right now is that it is possible to have this happen six times, or that I could carry until two days before my due-date and labor 20 hours for a dead baby. These stories frighten and horrify me and leave me up at night weeping in despair. Even if they have a happy ending, do not share these stories with me.
-Don't pretend it didn't happen and don't change the subject when I bring it up. If I say, "Before the baby died..." or "when I was pregnant..." don't get scared. If I'm talking about it, it means I want to. Let me. Pretending it didn't happen will only make me feel utterly alone.
- Don't say, "It's not your fault." It may not have been my fault, but it was my responsibility and I failed. The fact that I never stood a chance of succeeding only makes me feel worse. This tiny little being depended upon me to bring him safely into the world and I couldn't do it. I was supposed to care for him for a lifetime, but I couldn't even give him a childhood. I am so angry at my body you just can't imagine.
-Don't say, "Well, you weren't too sure about this baby, anyway." I already feel so guilty about ever having complained about morning sickness, or a child I wasn't prepared for, or another mouth to feed that we couldn't afford. I already fear that this baby died because I didn't take the vitamins, or drank too much coffee, or had alcohol in the first few weeks when I didn't know I was pregnant. I hate myself for any minute that I had reservations about this baby. Being unsure of my pregnancy isn't the same as wanting my child to die - I never would have chosen for this to happen.
-Do say, "I am so sorry." That's enough. You don't need to be eloquent. Say it and mean it and it will matter.
-Do say, "You're going to be wonderful parents some day," or "You're wonderful parents and that baby was lucky to have you." We both need to hear that.
-Do say, "I have lighted a candle for your baby," or "I have said a prayer for your baby."
-Do send flowers or a kind note - every one I receive makes me feel as though my baby was loved. Don't resent it if I don't respond.
-Don't call more than once and don't be angry if the machine is on and I don't return your call. If we're close friends and I am not responding to your attempts to help me, please don't resent that, either. Help me by not needing anything from me for a while. "
Thursday, July 29, 2010
Leap of Faith
Psalm 34:18
The Lord is close to the brokenhearted and saves those who are crushed in spirit
This blog was intended to be a way to share our journey together as husband and wife with those that love and support us. On the journey of life, there will always be ups and downs, and as husband and wife we have vowed to see one another through those ups and downs. This is one of those times. I am reminded in this moment of weakness of a song sung during the lighting of the unity candle at our wedding, "Tomorrow morning if you wake up and the sun does not appear, I will be here". I know we will pull through this together, and the sun will appear again.
On February 28th, we were pleasantly surprised with a pregnancy that we hadn't really planned for, but were absolutely thrilled about. We went through the whole, "Do we tell people, and when?". While Santi was excited and ready to tell the world, I felt anxious and uncertain. I had this instinct that maybe letting our little secret out wasn't the best idea just yet. We waited. We saw one doctor for the basic blood work. All was well, but we decided we weren't fond of that doctor and wanted to switch. We had an appointment with the new doctor during my 10th week. It was the earliest we could get in. On that day, we had planned to let our secret out after the doctor's appointment. I had felt it would be okay then.
During that appointment, we discovered two things about our surprise pregnancy:
1) It was twins
2) It was not a viable pregnancy, both twins had stopped developing at around 6 weeks
While we went through a range of emotions after receiving that devastating news, I felt as though I had known all along. It was instinct.
It didn't matter that we hadn't "planned" that pregnancy, we wanted those babies, they were our babies, and we were lost without them. I was instantly taken back to December, when we had taken a "leap of faith".
In December, we had the big "baby talk". While Santi was more than ready, I was hesitant. I wanted more money in savings, a better job for Santi, I wanted to be finished with my master's degree...the list goes on an on. But I felt God calling me to take a "leap of faith" and trust that He would provide for us and for a child if we would only trust Him with the timing of children. So, I agreed that we could "let things happen", but we weren't going to try to make anything happen. It was up to God.
Well, I took that leap of faith and it took me down a path I could have never imagined. All that worry about how we were going to afford a baby, daycare, finishing my master's, etc. disappeared. Instead, it was replaced with heartache and longing for a baby, and fear that we may never have children. I felt like the whole world was pregnant and everywhere I went there were babies. It was a constant reminder of what we had lost. For awhile, and sometimes still, I felt angry with God. It just didn't seem fair. One day towards the end of the school year, one of my kindergarten students came up to me in the morning and told me she had something for me. She of course knew nothing about what I had gone through. She handed me a little stuffed frog that she had obviously found somewhere around her house, and it said "leap of faith" on the front. It was like a reminder from God that He is in control, and that He is going to honor my leap of faith by being faithful in return and blessing us not only with a child, but with the financial peace to comfortably raise that child. I felt relieved. Tevez has since eaten that little stuffed frog (of course), but I will always remember that sign from God.
So here we are, still waiting for another opportunity to be blessed with a child, but not forgetting the angel babies we lost. While I have found a lot of comfort in an online support group for pregnancy loss, as well as through talking with friends and family members who have been through the same thing, it is still a struggle for both of us. Every day we must rely on strength from God and one another to get through this trying time, and I know the sun will shine again.
We debated for a long time about whether or not to share our loss with others. Of course our immediate family knew, and friends from Bible study, as well as colleagues out of necessity, but we weren't quite certain about sharing the loss of a pregnancy with anyone else when we had not even shared our pregnancy news to begin with. To some miscarriage is a taboo subject. It's not something people talk about, despite the fact that many deal with the grief of pregnancy and infant loss. After our loss, so many people I was close to, and even those I didn't know very well, came to me and shared their stories of loss. Although it was disheartening to know so many had suffered the same pain, it was also comforting to know they understood and were there to support us. I hope that maybe sharing our journey can help others better understand where we are coming from.
In my time with my online support group, I found a lot of things that have helped with the healing process, and some of these things explained my feelings better than anything I could have written myself, so I thought I would share them here as well.
The first is a poem that I really liked
Tiny Footprints on a Mother's Heart
When a baby arrives,
be it for a day, a month, a year or more,
or perhaps only a sweet flickering moment-
the fragile spark of a tender soul
the secret swell of a new pregnancy
the goldfish flutter known to only you-
you are unmistakeningly changed...
the tiny footprints left behind on your heart
bespeak your name as Mother.
Some more things you should know about what I am going through:
1) It will take time to move on, it's not going to "all go away" in a few weeks or months
2) A new pregnancy will not help me forget
3) My life will never be the same, even after I have a healthy baby
4) My grieving over a life that was only known to me does not make me weak
5) It is really hard to hear about new pregnancies or healthy births of friends or family members. I usually feel jealous, hurt, and angry. I will tell you congratulations, and I mean it. I am truly happy for you, but I am not delighted to hear it at a time when I am dealing with my own loss. I sometimes avoid situations where I will be around pregnant friends or friends with babies, which is not always easy. This does not make me a bad person. I am human, and I am trying to move past these feelings and emotions with the grace of God. I am being totally honest here.
6) I am not upset that you are pregnant, I am upset that I am not.
7) It doesn't matter how far along I was in my pregnancy, we bonded with the babies from the beginning, and our grief is no less than any other.
I know that now I have gotten all this off my chest, I can move forward with the healing process. For those who love us and actually read our blog, please know that we love you all and your support means so much to us. We are sharing this not in a search for sympathy, but to share a part of our lives that has affected us greatly. We will keep you posted on our journey to becoming parents, and hopefully our second chance will come quickly.
The Lord is close to the brokenhearted and saves those who are crushed in spirit
This blog was intended to be a way to share our journey together as husband and wife with those that love and support us. On the journey of life, there will always be ups and downs, and as husband and wife we have vowed to see one another through those ups and downs. This is one of those times. I am reminded in this moment of weakness of a song sung during the lighting of the unity candle at our wedding, "Tomorrow morning if you wake up and the sun does not appear, I will be here". I know we will pull through this together, and the sun will appear again.
On February 28th, we were pleasantly surprised with a pregnancy that we hadn't really planned for, but were absolutely thrilled about. We went through the whole, "Do we tell people, and when?". While Santi was excited and ready to tell the world, I felt anxious and uncertain. I had this instinct that maybe letting our little secret out wasn't the best idea just yet. We waited. We saw one doctor for the basic blood work. All was well, but we decided we weren't fond of that doctor and wanted to switch. We had an appointment with the new doctor during my 10th week. It was the earliest we could get in. On that day, we had planned to let our secret out after the doctor's appointment. I had felt it would be okay then.
During that appointment, we discovered two things about our surprise pregnancy:
1) It was twins
2) It was not a viable pregnancy, both twins had stopped developing at around 6 weeks
While we went through a range of emotions after receiving that devastating news, I felt as though I had known all along. It was instinct.
It didn't matter that we hadn't "planned" that pregnancy, we wanted those babies, they were our babies, and we were lost without them. I was instantly taken back to December, when we had taken a "leap of faith".
In December, we had the big "baby talk". While Santi was more than ready, I was hesitant. I wanted more money in savings, a better job for Santi, I wanted to be finished with my master's degree...the list goes on an on. But I felt God calling me to take a "leap of faith" and trust that He would provide for us and for a child if we would only trust Him with the timing of children. So, I agreed that we could "let things happen", but we weren't going to try to make anything happen. It was up to God.
Well, I took that leap of faith and it took me down a path I could have never imagined. All that worry about how we were going to afford a baby, daycare, finishing my master's, etc. disappeared. Instead, it was replaced with heartache and longing for a baby, and fear that we may never have children. I felt like the whole world was pregnant and everywhere I went there were babies. It was a constant reminder of what we had lost. For awhile, and sometimes still, I felt angry with God. It just didn't seem fair. One day towards the end of the school year, one of my kindergarten students came up to me in the morning and told me she had something for me. She of course knew nothing about what I had gone through. She handed me a little stuffed frog that she had obviously found somewhere around her house, and it said "leap of faith" on the front. It was like a reminder from God that He is in control, and that He is going to honor my leap of faith by being faithful in return and blessing us not only with a child, but with the financial peace to comfortably raise that child. I felt relieved. Tevez has since eaten that little stuffed frog (of course), but I will always remember that sign from God.
So here we are, still waiting for another opportunity to be blessed with a child, but not forgetting the angel babies we lost. While I have found a lot of comfort in an online support group for pregnancy loss, as well as through talking with friends and family members who have been through the same thing, it is still a struggle for both of us. Every day we must rely on strength from God and one another to get through this trying time, and I know the sun will shine again.
We debated for a long time about whether or not to share our loss with others. Of course our immediate family knew, and friends from Bible study, as well as colleagues out of necessity, but we weren't quite certain about sharing the loss of a pregnancy with anyone else when we had not even shared our pregnancy news to begin with. To some miscarriage is a taboo subject. It's not something people talk about, despite the fact that many deal with the grief of pregnancy and infant loss. After our loss, so many people I was close to, and even those I didn't know very well, came to me and shared their stories of loss. Although it was disheartening to know so many had suffered the same pain, it was also comforting to know they understood and were there to support us. I hope that maybe sharing our journey can help others better understand where we are coming from.
In my time with my online support group, I found a lot of things that have helped with the healing process, and some of these things explained my feelings better than anything I could have written myself, so I thought I would share them here as well.
The first is a poem that I really liked
Tiny Footprints on a Mother's Heart
When a baby arrives,
be it for a day, a month, a year or more,
or perhaps only a sweet flickering moment-
the fragile spark of a tender soul
the secret swell of a new pregnancy
the goldfish flutter known to only you-
you are unmistakeningly changed...
the tiny footprints left behind on your heart
bespeak your name as Mother.
Some more things you should know about what I am going through:
1) It will take time to move on, it's not going to "all go away" in a few weeks or months
2) A new pregnancy will not help me forget
3) My life will never be the same, even after I have a healthy baby
4) My grieving over a life that was only known to me does not make me weak
5) It is really hard to hear about new pregnancies or healthy births of friends or family members. I usually feel jealous, hurt, and angry. I will tell you congratulations, and I mean it. I am truly happy for you, but I am not delighted to hear it at a time when I am dealing with my own loss. I sometimes avoid situations where I will be around pregnant friends or friends with babies, which is not always easy. This does not make me a bad person. I am human, and I am trying to move past these feelings and emotions with the grace of God. I am being totally honest here.
6) I am not upset that you are pregnant, I am upset that I am not.
7) It doesn't matter how far along I was in my pregnancy, we bonded with the babies from the beginning, and our grief is no less than any other.
I know that now I have gotten all this off my chest, I can move forward with the healing process. For those who love us and actually read our blog, please know that we love you all and your support means so much to us. We are sharing this not in a search for sympathy, but to share a part of our lives that has affected us greatly. We will keep you posted on our journey to becoming parents, and hopefully our second chance will come quickly.
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