On October 15th:

It’s October 15th in a few days.  October 15th is Pregnancy and Infant Loss Rememberance Day.  This is a day that’s close to my heart, as I had a devastating miscarriage in 2011.  Prior to that point, miscarriage wasn’t something that had crossed my mind, but I soon learned that it’s very common, very emotional, and very taboo.

I originally wrote ‘Break the Silence‘ in October 2012, and I re-post it annually.  I pour my heart out around this time of year; the purpose being to try to lessen the stigma of miscarriage and the awfulness that surrounds it.  And every year, I have women email me to share their stories of grief and loss.  Sometimes these women are complete strangers who found me through my blog.  Sometimes these women are patients who haven’t told me about their experiences.  Sometimes these women are friends, sometimes good friends….. and most times I have no idea they’ve been through this pain until I receive their email.  This tells me that there is still stigma, there is still silence, there is still suffering, and there is still work to do.

This is my story:

(*originally published on October 9th, 2012)

I struggled to write this post. Really struggled. Not just with the emotion of it all, but with the feelings of vulnerability and complete exposure that this topic brings out in me. But that’s why it needs to be written…..to break the silence, prevent the stigma, and end the taboo surrounding miscarriage.

I had a miscarriage last year. We lost our baby on April 6th, 2011, at 11 weeks and 6 days gestation. One day shy of the magic ’12-weeks-pregnant’ mark where the stats on miscarriage decrease dramatically. I was wrapped up with the excitement of another baby, and we were already envisioning life as a family-of-four. In a cruel twist of irony, we had signed the papers for our bigger-with-an-extra-bedroom-house the weekend prior. I had told friends and family of my pregnancy, even casually mentioned it to acquaintances, and sorted through bins of my maternity clothes. And then it all ended. My miscarriage was very sudden, very graphic, and very traumatic. There was no doubt what was happening to our baby as we rushed to the ER, and as I laid on a triage bed next to my heartbroken husband, the loss overwhelmed me.

Those next few weeks are a haze of tears and despair. My mom flew out to support us, and helped me get through the physical and emotional struggle of the first few days. I ended up with a D&C surgery two weeks later, as I was deemed to have experienced an ‘incomplete miscarriage’. The day following my surgery, I flew to New York City to spend the weekend with my two best friends. And as I reflect on that difficult time in my life, I can see that’s where my heart began to heal. Sister-like friends have that power.

That baby would’ve been due on October 27th, 2011. I was dreading that day on the calendar, which had already been circled in a big red heart when we initially found out I was pregnant. But as October 27th approached, I found myself blessed with another pregnancy; my beloved Casey was born on March 2nd, 2012, only 11 months after the miscarriage. My gratitude for her is exponentially greater after feeling the hopelessness of loss.

There are three things that helped me get through this:

1. A memorial. We carved a cross on a big tree in our favorite walking trails in remembrance of our lost baby. That tree is a source of comfort for me, and a place we visit as a family several times a year. My 3.5-year-old calls it our ‘special tree’. I like to think of it as our ‘healing tree’.

2. Time. While the grief and pain from this experience is not gone, it has lessened. Time heals. And my heart has healed a lot in 18 months.

3. Talking about it. When this happened, I told the details to all of my family and friends. I told my parents and my in-laws. I told my sister-in-laws. I told my girlfriends. Talking about it helped me to process things, but it also helped to break down the stigma. Miscarriage is still a taboo topic, and people don’t know what to say when it happens to someone they know. It will happen to someone you know. Up to 25% of known pregnancies result in miscarriage, 80% of those occurring in the first trimester. Don’t say nothing. Acknowledge the loss. Because saying nothing only perpetuates the silence.

October is Pregnancy and Infant Loss Month. On October 15th at 7pm, I will be joining many other people around the world in lighting a candle to remember the babies we’ve lost. And I will be hugging the babies I have, thankful beyond measure.

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Magnetic Force Field

I am convinced that I have a magnetic force field around me.  This force field can only be felt by my children.  Wherever I go, whatever I do, there they are, right beside me; observing, questioning, chatting, smiling.  This has become especially obvious in our new home, as the Master bedroom is on the main floor, just off our primary kitchen/family room living space.  It seems that I cannot get dressed by myself, pack my gym bag, fold some laundry, or even use the bathroom without one or two little faces following closely behind me.

My three-year-old daughter has also taken to wandering into our bed halfway through the night, and snuggling up to me so closely that I have to pull back the covers or be cooked from the heat her little body gives off.  “Can we snuggle, Mommy?” she’ll whisper to me in her sleep-drunk state.  “We are snuggling,” I’ll reply, as she’s pressed up against me head-to-toe.  “No, put your arms around me,” she says.  And so I cocoon all 35lbs of her, and back to sleep we drift.

I won’t lie to you: there are times that have children constantly underfoot can get a bit overwhelming.  Times when I just want five minutes to not have to answer a “why” question or play eye-spy.  Times when I would give anything to have a sleep-in or a quiet meal or a movie uninterrupted.  But those times are far fewer than the times that I marvel at my children’s dependence on me.

I marvel at their trust, their complete faith, their staggering belief in me.

They are seven and almost-four now.  My baby girl starts full-day Kindergarten in the Fall.  This chapter of work-part-time-while-the-kids-are-little is nearly over.  My daytime focus can soon shift from the kids to the clinic.  When I took my foot off the gas of my career seven years ago, I saw this next phase in the far-off distance.  And now it’s in my direct sights.

I will take the magnetic force field, while it’s still here.  Its power is likely to fade in the very near future, and when it’s gone I know that I will miss it.

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The Key Jar

I hope that you had a Happy Mother’s Day weekend, as I did.  There was lots of family time in the sunshine for us, and that suits me just perfectly.  I’m not at all about gifts and commercialism, in case you missed my ‘Gifts, and gifts, and gifts, oh my‘ post from awhile back.  I’m about thoughtfulness, and experiences, and time together; but I’d like to share the knock-your-socks-off present that made my day, and perhaps my year… cue the melodrama.

My children, who are now six and three, came home from Kindergarten and Preschool with handmade loveliness in the form of decorated flower pots, butterfly canvases, and Mother’s Day cards.  My husband added a sleep-in (I made it to 8:45am!), some fresh cut flowers (my fave!), and a homemade Whole30-approved brunch (today is Day 12 of my first Whole30, if you happen to be following along).  Brilliant.  I was a happy girl.  And then they gave me this:

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This is a key jar.  The premise is simple: the jar is filled with questions- thoughtful, exploratory, insightful questions.  At family meals, we pull a ‘key’ from the jar and it unlocks beautiful conversation from our children’s hearts and minds.

But as wonderful as my husband is, and he really is wonderful, he did not come up with the key jar idea.  In fact, it is a brainchild from the Momastery website, written by Glennon Doyle Melton.   She writes:

“Getting to know ourselves and others is the greatest adventure.  We are explorers of ourselves and the people we love.  Love is the ongoing process of unlocking each other and keeping safe whatever we find.  Thoughtful questions are the keys we use to do the unlocking and safekeeping.”

Here’s my (unsolicited) advice:

  • If you have a child, you need a key jar.
  • If you know a child, you need to give them a key jar.
  • If you have a key jar, you need to treasure what it unlocks.

To make your very own, please find instructions by clicking here.

Happy Tuesday, my friends.