If there ever comes a day when we can't be together, keep me in your heart, I'll stay there forever. Winnie the Pooh

Tuesday, February 23, 2010

Pain & Healing

I have three, practically perfect in every way, children. If I could have looked into a crystal ball as a 20 year old, I would have gone through life giddy and laughing with the knowledge that I get to be the mother of the three most amazing little people on earth. How blessed am I?! Beyond belief.

I told Claire's birth story. And as much as I'd love to tell the story of my Madeline & Maxwell--the surprise twins, I must tell the story of my dear angel babies. The babies I never got to meet. The babies that changed me forever.

This is their story....

I was so happy to be pregnant for a second time. It was shortlived because within a week of finding out I was going to have a baby, I lost my baby. Lost.



I wanted answers but the doctor had none to give. Well, no answers sufficient to my broken heart; It happens to many women...it's very common....chromosomal abnormaility....blah blah blah. I wanted to know what I did to cause this. Running too much? Lifting weights? Not taking my vitamins every day? If I could blame myself, then I could make sure it wouldn't happen again. No. You did nothing wrong. Get pregnant again, you'll see...you'll have another baby.

So we did. We got pregnant again. I cautiously worked out. Cutting back on the intensity of my running and lowering the weights I'd use to tone my body. But every day I was waiting for something to happen. I suppose if you wait long enough for anything, it will happen.

And it did.

I remember seeing the blood and feeling two things simultaneously; disbelief and that I just knew it was going to happen again feeling.

I fell to my knees. I prayed. I begged; God, please don't. Please don't take my baby. Please, not again.

Going to the hospital confirmed what I already knew; my baby had died. Two babies in less than 4 months. My doctor told me I would be able to pass the baby on my own or if I preferred he could take it out for me. It. My sweet baby. My boy or girl. I would never know. He called it an incomplete abortion. Abortion. That word felt like a slap to my face. Abortions were for women who didn't want their child. I wanted my children.

I needed to be alone. I went out by myself. I got my haircut and that is where I first felt the twinges of contractions. I went shopping and gripped the shopping cart, sweat beading on my upper lip. I drove home. Nearly doubled over with the pain.

Home. Please, just keep her away from me. I begged Chris to take Claire to another room. She knew something was wrong but didn't know what. He wanted to help but helping with Claire was the best he could do.

I got on all fours and rocked with the pain of the contractions ripping through my stomach. Chris came in the room. He had put Claire to bed. I felt delirous from the pain. The pain was doubly intense; I was having strong contractions and I knew there would be no pink, crying lovely baby to show for all the pain. I wanted to die. At one point I fell asleep. Chris curled up on the floor beside me. He wrapped his arms around me. Later I found us both asleep in bed. That next morning I knew it was over. No more pain. I felt empty inside.


I went through a very dark time. I was angry; at God, my body, the doctor, even my husband, who thought maybe we shouldn't try for any more children. I walked away from God. I felt so alone, wanting to focus on my daughter and all the good in my life, instead I became consumed by fear; would I ever have another baby? What was wrong with me?

Fear was not the only rotten, black emotion eating at me. Anger. It was filling my heart. I went back to work in the Fall to find out one of my old students, now in 8th grade, had a baby. The hate and anger at God raged inside me. How could He be so unfair?


Little did I know He was always there. How could my God let this happen to me? Why would He do this? I called Him names. He held me tighter and I struggled in His embrace. I wanted nothing to do with Him. And yet, He never left my side. In my struggles, in my anger, fear and hurt, He was there. Always. He didn't cause my pain but he held me through it. He didn't cause my miscarriages, but He lovingly healed my heart. He forgave me. And all along, He had a plan. He knew what my family needed. He knew what I needed. And for this, I get on my knees and thank Him for knowing me, His child.

I still ache for my sweet angel babies. I will always remember the moment I found out I was pregnant with them. I will forever remember their birthdays.
February 1, 2009.
April 2, 2009.

But my heart was healed. God continued to love me as if I was a tantruming child and He was the ever so patient parent. I humbly asked for forgiveness and He gave me that, and so much more.



  1. Beautifully spoken. I am so glad God healed your heart.

  2. Thanks for the post. Makes me feel better about my miscarriage. Brought tears to my eyes. So beautifully written

  3. I had not checked out your blog in a while...this post is amazing...everything I think and feel about my experience, right here in print by someone I have never met, but consider a dear friend...thank you! xoxo