Pregnancy and Infant Loss Awareness Day

Today is Pregnany and Infant Loss Awareness Day. I don't suppose I can let the day pass without commenting on my experience with pregnancy loss.

I've always pictured myself having kids, although I was never the girl who loved children and loved to babysit. In fact, for the most part other people's children drive me crazy. My nightmare job would be running a preschool or being a Jr. High School counsellor (which, I maintain, is THE WORST job in the world. Seriously, those people should get hazard pay!) I maintain profound respect for people who work in those positions because somebody has to do it and it ain't gonna be me!!

Regardless, I have always felt that my life would be incomplete without children of my own. Finding my soul mate just brought those feelings closer to the surface. I not only want to have children, I want to have HIS children. And then, I found out I was pregnant.

My whole outlook on life changed in an instant. All of a sudden, I had life inside of me. I was looking at milestones that would be different from now on. We would have a baby for Thanksgiving, for Christmas. We would be celebrating our one year anniversary with me being "great with child" and just a few weeks from meeting our son or daughter. My parents would be grandparents, my grandparents would be great grandparents, and my great grandparents would be great-great grandparents. I could finally have the five generation photo that I had always dreamed of having, to display next to the four generation photo that was taken when I was a small child. I was going to be a mom, Eric was going to be a dad. I thought about the baby names we had picked out, I thought about decorating a nursery, I thought about who I was going to see for the prenatal care, diapers, and car seats, and just everything that welcoming a new little life into the world would bring us.

And then, as soon as it began it ended. There would not be a little one joining us this Thanksgiving or Christmas. My five generation photo would have to be put on hold, and I had to deal with the possiblity that it may never happen. Those names we picked would go back to the shelf, unused. There was no longer life inside of me. Even though the flame of motherhood had been lit, there was no baby for us to bring home. Then, to top off the emotional heartache, was the physical pain.

Mere days after discovering our loss, I faced another blow in the unexpected loss of a friend. A young woman who was only a couple of months older than me, struck down in the prime of her life. Then, just weeks later, I found myself holding my scared little sister's hand as she heard her baby's heartbeat for the first time, and a couple of days later found out that she was 24 weeks pregnant with what would be my dearly loved little niece, Ivory. I found myself sitting on the floor of my closet, crying, mourning my loss all over again. The realization that my sister was going to have a happy, healthy, full term baby was bittersweet. I would never, ever wish a loss on anybody. On the other hand, I found myself questioning what was wrong with me that I couldn't have what she had, what billions of women have had, the joy of motherhood. Everytime my parents speak about becoming grandparents, about their grandchild, it sends a sharp sliver of hurt through me. Every time I see another friend discover she is expecting, it hurts my soul. Not because I'm not happy for those things, but because it brings into sharp relief what I lost, and what I will not be a part of.

Although my loss has caused me heartache, it has also had it's positives. I've met women who have had similar experiences, and shared their pain. I've grown closer to my husband, closer than I could've imagined. I've had a chance to reevaluate my priorities, and as important and meaningful as my education and career are to me, I have recognized my higher calling, and I will continue to work towards it.

If I can point to one thing that has helped me the most in this situation, it has been being verbal about it. I'm not changing the world, I'm not changing people's lives, but I am discovering that speaking about our trials, sharing our imperfections, our hurt and our struggles makes us stronger. Shared experiences unite us. I am not alone. And, if you, like millions of women, have experienced this loss, you are not alone.