How many kids do you have? A simple question for the average person, but if you know me very well or have even just had a conversation with me, you already know that I’m not normal! Actually, for anyone who has lost a baby through miscarriage, stillbirth or even as an infant, this question isn’t easy to answer. While that question has always been a bit tricky for me ...(I’m a step-parent but my son doesn’t live with our family most of the time), it became much harder to answer in seven years ago when my infant daughter died. We found out at 28 weeks gestation that our daughter would be born with a three-ventricle heart, a chromosomal abnormality and might have some other health concerns as well. When Emma Grace was six days old we found out that she wasn’t going to live. We thanked God for the time we had with her, and took her home. God gave us the most wonderful gift of time and our family was able to travel to see her and spend some precious time with her. When God decided it was her time to go be with Him at 19 days old, we were grateful for the time we had been blessed with. I was however left with the new problem of answering that dreaded question, “How many kids do you have?” Do I answer two, and not count Emma? No, to me that would diminish her life and how important she was to us. Do I say three but one died? That didn’t go so well. Seeing cashiers break down in tears gets old real quick and the older kids are quick to share the WHOLE story before the groceries are even finished being bagged in the check out line. I got tired of the pity look too along with the “I’m sorry.” Why are you sorry…you didn’t do anything wrong.
I’d had several years of practice and found my answer when my world got rocked again. Six years ago (almost a year to the date of Emma’s birth) God blessed us with another daughter. A few years later we wanted to add to our family again and got pregnant right away. I had always waited until the second trimester to share the news “just in case,” but thought, “we’ve already had our tragic event and lightening can’t strike twice.” I was quickly put in my place, realizing that God is in control, when I had a miscarriage. Surprisingly, this hit me harder than the death of Emma. Maybe it was because I had time to prepare for Emma’s death, or got the chance to meet her and spend time with her, or maybe it was because I had gotten complacent and had forgotten who was really in control, or maybe it was just because it was a loss. I kept quiet about my miscarriage for several weeks, except for those couple friends who came over to help with my foster son, take my daughter out to have a good day since it was on her birthday and to pray with me. I was so upset with myself for not being able to just “get over it” and move on. We could have more kids (like that line helps). I was only a few weeks pregnant (like that made a difference in my level of pain). I had other children to love and care for, didn’t I appreciate them (that doesn’t make the child I was carrying any less important). I finally broke down at a leadership meeting with my MOPS group and asked for prayer. Admitting that I was sad, hurting, couldn’t control what had happened or the feelings of loss I felt helped in and of itself. I slowly started to heal, but was humbled by how secretive I felt about my loss despite being an advocate for pregnancy and infant loss as well as being part of the pregnancy and infant loss support group in my town. I wasn’t embarrassed, I just didn’t want to talk about it, get those pity looks or have people treat me differently. I remember feeling the loss and sadness all over again on what would have been my due date and having this gut feeling that the baby had been a boy.
That year in October, Pregnancy and Infant Loss Awareness Month, I shared a little bit with my MOPS group. We lit a candle representing the life of each child lost and listened to “Held” by Natalie Grant as the women came up one at a time, until 43 candles were lit, some women lighting three or four. We had the lights turned down and I was in awe of the glow of the light that represented these children. Moms at the table started to share with each other about their loss and some spoke about their loss for the first time. It was closure for many and helped us to see that we’re not alone.
God blessed us again with another daughter the following year (just shortly after the anniversary of my miscarriage). She is now two and a half and while I don’t think about my miscarriage very often and I feel “healed” and “whole” again, that didn’t happen overnight.
That year in October, Pregnancy and Infant Loss Awareness Month, I shared a little bit with my MOPS group. We lit a candle representing the life of each child lost and listened to “Held” by Natalie Grant as the women came up one at a time, until 43 candles were lit, some women lighting three or four. We had the lights turned down and I was in awe of the glow of the light that represented these children. Moms at the table started to share with each other about their loss and some spoke about their loss for the first time. It was closure for many and helped us to see that we’re not alone.
God blessed us again with another daughter the following year (just shortly after the anniversary of my miscarriage). She is now two and a half and while I don’t think about my miscarriage very often and I feel “healed” and “whole” again, that didn’t happen overnight.