I had my first miscarriage in March 2012. Like every woman, the moment I knew I was expecting, I became a mother. We immediately began thinking about names, looking at baby things, having deep conversations about how our lives were going to change.
We didn't get to live with that excitement for very long, though. Shortly after getting the exciting news, we got another bit of news: we were having a miscarriage. Every woman thinks about miscarriage, the same way people think about cancer. It's something that happens to people, you just never really think it will happen to you. I was surprised and overwhelmed at how much it hurt and how difficult it was for me. I was devastated, absolutely devastated! I reached out for help, and I quickly discovered that all my emotions were very, very normal.
25-50% of all pregnancies end in miscarriage. A portion of those occur without the woman even knowing she was pregnant. But, the rest of those losses happen to women who, just like me, suddenly find themselves feeling empty and heartbroken. The prevailing idea is that miscarriage is sad, but not devastating, and that if you find yourself losing your baby before a certain gestational age, you might also find yourself confronted by people who are confused at why you are so sad, so hurt, and wonder out loud why you don't just "move on" and "get over it".
Fortunately for me, I was able to find a community of people who had also gone through a miscarriage, and who understood how I felt. At some point, it was suggested to me to have a memorial service for my angel baby. I discussed it with my husband, and we decided to give it a try.
That first service was very simple, just me and my husband. We went into the canyon, found a pretty spot, dug a little hole, and burned some letters we had written to our angel. Then, we buried the ashes, I sang a hymn, and we marked the spot with one pink and one blue carnation. Afterwards, we had a picnic lunch and took a walk with the dog. It was simple, but so beautiful and so peaceful. There was an amazing spirit there. We had an amazing conversation, and we grew closer together as a couple. And, a really incredible thing happened. I felt like a weight had been lifted off of me. A weight I had been lugging around for weeks. I finally, finally had some peace, some closure.
I had two more miscarriages after the first. My second loss was what they call a "chemical pregnancy" in July 2012. That one was more frustrating than anything else, though there was still some grieving associated even with that very early loss. The third miscarriage was December 2012. We found out we were expecting right before Thanksgiving, and we decided that we would announce the pregnancy to our families that Christmas. I started planning a cute way to tell them when we were opening our presents. I was so excited, because unlike my chemical pregnancy, this one felt a lot more real. Then, the dreaded moment, when I saw red. I wish I could describe the feeling; it's like your heart just drops into your stomach and you feel sick and devastated and breathless like the wind got knocked out of you. I hate that feeling.
We decided against doing a memorial with the third miscarriage. I was also experiencing a lot of health issues at the time, and I quickly spiraled into a really dark, deep depression. I can admit now that I got to the point where I felt like I wanted to lay down at night and just not wake up in the morning. And when the mornings came, and I opened my eyes and saw the light, I would cry, and cry, and cry. I didn't want to do another day. I felt like I would never be a mom. I felt like I would never get healthy. I was low, so low.
After a time, I started to pick up. I reminded myself to think positive, to get happy. The feeling like I wanted to die went away. I started seeing my counselor regularly. And then, at the beginning of April, I got some amazing news. I was pregnant again!!
Because of my past miscarriages, they put me on progesterone. I just had a good feeling about this pregnancy. I really, really felt like this was the one that would end with a precious child in my arms. The first couple of weeks were torture. I finally made it past the point where I lost my first, and I could officially say that this was my longest pregnancy. The doctors told me that if I could get to 11 weeks, that my chances of miscarriage would drop significantly. I battled through severe morning sickness, edema, heartburn, insomnia, and frequent urination. I found myself kneeling over the toilet vomiting and smiling, because I was happy to be so sick. To me, it meant that my baby was still growing and developing inside of me.
And then, in a night, it was all over.
When I told my mom about this miscarriage, she gave me a big, huge, long, squeezy hug, and she whispered in my ear, "Do you want to do something?" I immediately agreed. I remembered how much better I felt after the first memorial service, and I knew I needed the lift. I hurt so bad, so deeply, and I needed the closure.
For this service, I decided I wanted my family and close friends to be there. The service was absolutely beautiful. It accomplished everything I wanted it to. I felt that weight lift off my shoulders again. I was able to see and experience the love and support my family and friends had for me. I was able to cry, really cry. People said some really wonderful, beautiful things. The whole time, there was this beautiful spirit of peace, unity, and love. It was exactly what I needed. It was perfect.
As I sat there soaking in that amazing feeling, and really contemplating how much closure and peace I experienced with that simple ceremony, my mind turned to the other women I knew who had lost babies. My sisters in heartache. I wondered how much it would mean to them if they were able to have a memorial service for their angel babies like I did. I was fortunate to stumble across the idea, I was fortunate to have people support me in that idea, and I was fortunate to have the resources to make the service what I wanted. I remembered the stark contrast for me in the difference in healing between my first and fourth miscarriages, and the darkness that followed my third. I also thought about what has become sort of my edict in life, which is that the reason I go through trials is to help others when they go through similar trials.
And so, this blog was born.
This is a place for women who have experienced miscarriages to come to help them create their own memorial services for their precious angel children. Whether it be as simple as a short little ceremony just between the parents of the angel baby, or whether it becomes a bigger family affair. If you have experienced a miscarriage, you deserve to have a memorial service. For you, for your partner, and for your baby.
I have a blog to post memorial services for angel babies. I have a list of blogs about miscarriages and other losses (such as stillbirths and infant loss). I have resources to help you find the perfect memento to help you remember your angel. Finally, I have resources and ideas to help you plan your perfect memorial service.
I am always available for questions, or if you just want to talk about loss. Also, if you've had a memorial service for your angel baby, I would love to put it on my page, especially if this page helped you plan that service. Please email me: miscarriagememorial@gmail.com
Thank you so much for visiting my page. I hope that you find the help and comfort you are seeking here.
God Bless You!
NaRhea
miscarriagememorial@gmail.com
No comments:
Post a Comment