**Just as a pre-cursor: I do not say any of the things in this post as a way to get attention or for people to pity me. I am simply looking for a release of my many emotions and hoping that some cathartic healing can happen from some free writing.**
A friend of mine recently posted on her blog that not enough people represent "real" life on their blogs but rather try to pretend everything is perfect. Well in my attempt to be real, this post might be a bit of a downer. I really hesitate to even put these very personal words out there, especially because those closest to me are suffering with this trial far more than I ever care to imagine and I don't want to make light of their pain. Here it is though.
Today has been a very tough day. I just got word that my 7th and newest nephew has just arrived. He is healthy and strong and big and apparently has a lot of dark brown hair. I'm sure he is gorgeous as are all the children born in my family. I will see him next week and I am genuinely excited. I love him already and am anxious to get to know him better.
The sad part came when through the phone I heard him cry. I lost it. I lost it because a year ago today I really, literally lost "it." I don't know if "it" was a boy or a girl because we were robbed of the chance to meet. My baby, my child, was taken from me so suddenly and so harshly that I am left to refer to him or her as an it. I hate that. I think I hate that more than anything about this stupid and unfair situation. A mother should be able to know whether her child is a boy or a girl.
A mother should be able to hold her child and rock them to sleep, not watch what is left of their pathetic little body be flushed down a toilet. If you've ever had the misfortune of doing this you know what I mean. You know how you feel like a murderer and how no amount of logic can convince you that it wasn't your fault. You know how it feels to want to have morning sickness or back pain. To be nauseous at the sight or smell of food. To not get any sleep at night because your baby is kicking so much. You want all of these "burdens" and you'd do almost anything to have them because if these things are present that means your baby is present.
A year ago today I had a "spontaneous abortion," a term which brings a pit to my stomach almost instantly. I had a miscarriage. But what I really had was a little piece of my heart broken off and moved somewhere else. This place is hard for me to visit because of the sad feelings I have when I'm there, but I know it's necessary to go so that I never forget that perfect little spirit who lived inside me for 9 precious weeks.
To those who have suffered this loss and far worse and who have suffered it repeatedly, I am so deeply sorry. I draw strength and courage from you more than you know. Miscarriage is like a thief in the night that leaves behind a nasty trail of tears, guilt and "what ifs" but our Heavenly Father is the ultimate comforter, who stands by us every step of the way on this scary trail and picks us up when we fall. And when we fall again, He is there again. I have gained such a testimony of His power over the last year and I know He lives. I know He is protecting my child while I cannot. I know He will allow me the opportunity to raise that sweet spirit in His Gospel again. I do not know whether that will happen in this life or the next but I know He will not take that from me as long as I am faithful.
I also know that I have a great responsibility to the child who thankfully is alive and whom I will get to raise in this life. Words cannot express my love and gratitude for my angel, Kiara and for the light she radiates. I believe the veil is very thin for her and I believe she has been comforted directly by her Father in Heaven. I know she was meant to be in our family at this time and that she will be a leader to all of her siblings whenever they come to us. For her, as well as for her unbelievable father, who has lost a child too (I do not mean to sound as if I am the only one affected by this loss) I am grateful above all else. Now, I will go rock this amazing child and I will tell her over and over again how much I do love her and how special she is. Plus I have the hope that tomorrow will be a better day but even if it's not, things will be okay because there will always be someone there to pull me up.
A friend of mine recently posted on her blog that not enough people represent "real" life on their blogs but rather try to pretend everything is perfect. Well in my attempt to be real, this post might be a bit of a downer. I really hesitate to even put these very personal words out there, especially because those closest to me are suffering with this trial far more than I ever care to imagine and I don't want to make light of their pain. Here it is though.
Today has been a very tough day. I just got word that my 7th and newest nephew has just arrived. He is healthy and strong and big and apparently has a lot of dark brown hair. I'm sure he is gorgeous as are all the children born in my family. I will see him next week and I am genuinely excited. I love him already and am anxious to get to know him better.
The sad part came when through the phone I heard him cry. I lost it. I lost it because a year ago today I really, literally lost "it." I don't know if "it" was a boy or a girl because we were robbed of the chance to meet. My baby, my child, was taken from me so suddenly and so harshly that I am left to refer to him or her as an it. I hate that. I think I hate that more than anything about this stupid and unfair situation. A mother should be able to know whether her child is a boy or a girl.
A mother should be able to hold her child and rock them to sleep, not watch what is left of their pathetic little body be flushed down a toilet. If you've ever had the misfortune of doing this you know what I mean. You know how you feel like a murderer and how no amount of logic can convince you that it wasn't your fault. You know how it feels to want to have morning sickness or back pain. To be nauseous at the sight or smell of food. To not get any sleep at night because your baby is kicking so much. You want all of these "burdens" and you'd do almost anything to have them because if these things are present that means your baby is present.
A year ago today I had a "spontaneous abortion," a term which brings a pit to my stomach almost instantly. I had a miscarriage. But what I really had was a little piece of my heart broken off and moved somewhere else. This place is hard for me to visit because of the sad feelings I have when I'm there, but I know it's necessary to go so that I never forget that perfect little spirit who lived inside me for 9 precious weeks.
To those who have suffered this loss and far worse and who have suffered it repeatedly, I am so deeply sorry. I draw strength and courage from you more than you know. Miscarriage is like a thief in the night that leaves behind a nasty trail of tears, guilt and "what ifs" but our Heavenly Father is the ultimate comforter, who stands by us every step of the way on this scary trail and picks us up when we fall. And when we fall again, He is there again. I have gained such a testimony of His power over the last year and I know He lives. I know He is protecting my child while I cannot. I know He will allow me the opportunity to raise that sweet spirit in His Gospel again. I do not know whether that will happen in this life or the next but I know He will not take that from me as long as I am faithful.
I also know that I have a great responsibility to the child who thankfully is alive and whom I will get to raise in this life. Words cannot express my love and gratitude for my angel, Kiara and for the light she radiates. I believe the veil is very thin for her and I believe she has been comforted directly by her Father in Heaven. I know she was meant to be in our family at this time and that she will be a leader to all of her siblings whenever they come to us. For her, as well as for her unbelievable father, who has lost a child too (I do not mean to sound as if I am the only one affected by this loss) I am grateful above all else. Now, I will go rock this amazing child and I will tell her over and over again how much I do love her and how special she is. Plus I have the hope that tomorrow will be a better day but even if it's not, things will be okay because there will always be someone there to pull me up.
5 comments:
I am sorry to hear about your loss. You are an amazing woman. Thank you for sharing your story and your testimony. I wish you and your family the best.
I'm thinking about you Katie. Call me if you want to talk or vent.
Thanks for your thoughts today. I needed to hear them just like you needed to share them.
Lori- "Thank you for the chance to become our family friend. Your family has been such a blessing to me. I wish I would have been there to comfort you int eh time of need when you were there for me."
Alicia- "If I had a Million Dollars... I would buy alot of crafts food because I could actually eat and I would invite you to eat it with me, just like how you shared your feelings here. I love how you handle your child in your tummy, your inspiration for I can continue with my possitive attitude. Thanks! I love ya!"
There is a song that my friend has on her blog's playlist that I think you would really like. The artist is Natalie Grant and the song is called "Held." We love you guys. You are always in our prayers.
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