The week before Christmas I found out I was pregnant.
Unexpected, unplanned, and, frankly, unwanted.
It was overwhelming and crushing and upsetting and a million other things. There was dread and guilt. There was anger and frustration. There was confusion and regret.
That lasted for a few days and then, it all gave way to peace.
And eventually, excitement.
This isn’t what we planned—we were done having kids. We had given away all our baby stuff as Harper out grew it. There were no baby clothes, no bottles, no bassinet, no swing, no blankets, no car seat. There was a crib, but only because Harper refused to sleep on the bottom bunk of Elliott’s bunk beds.
There was some changing of plans, some new goals made, some re-routing of the life we had planned and we were settling into a new normal. We were going to be a family of five and although it wasn’t what we had envisioned for our lives, it wasn’t the end of the world like we originally thought.
We waited until after Christmas to tell everyone–we felt it should be our secret for a while. We didn’t want to share the news until there was nothing but joy in our hearts. We knew this was going to be completely unexpected news and we needed to be settled and okay before surprising everyone else.
At seven weeks, we shared the news with most of our immediate family and a few close friends.
I’m not going to lie, the out-of-left-field announcement was fun to share–I love a good surprise and this was the ultimate shocker.
No one saw it coming.
You know what else we didn’t see coming?
A miscarriage later that week.
A miscarriage.
The baby we had just started to feel joy over. The baby that was going to be a boy, we were just sure. The baby we were now wanting, planning for, dreaming about, was gone.
Chris said it just felt like a cruel joke.
I think it felt like some weird holiday experiment.
I sat in front of the Christmas tree and sobbed the news of a baby to Chris. We talked and complained and whined and then, later, we dreamed about our new reality as we sat in the kitchen by the glowing strands of Christmas lights.
On New Year’s Day, we took down the Christmas decorations and I commented about how it made our house feel cold and empty.
That night I lost the baby.
It made it feel like we just put our baby away with the tree and the light-up snowman and the glittery angels. Like it was temporary and not real and done.
And it made our house, and me, feel cold and empty.
Oh Mary… I am so sorry.
My sister has gone through 2 miscarriages and it is heartbreaking. My heart is sad for you… please stay strong & know that you have a bunch of shoulders to lean on and ears here in this community that will listen to you & support you through this!
Thank you for being so open & honest about this part of your life! ♥
Hugs!
Oh friend, I am so, so sorry. My heart hurts for you, and I can’t begin to imagine what that feels like. Please know I am praying for you and your family.
I’m thinking of you and saying a prayer for you. So incredibly sorry.
Andrea
BIg hugs!! I’m so sorry 🙁
Praying for you. So, so sorry for your loss.
I’m so sorry for your loss. We’ve been through 3 miscarriages, each one just as hearbreaking. Praying for you during this difficult time.
So sad for you and Chris.
Oh my goodness, sweetheart. Praying for you in this painful and confusing time! xo
I’m so sorry for your loss. It’s a heart aching experience to go through, I know. Time will make the wound hurt less, but you’ll always have a tiny piece of your heart belong to that baby you never got to meet.
Oh Mary, I’m so sorry. My heart goes out to you! It’s amazing how quickly you can become attached to the little person inside of you, whether it was planned or not. Praying for you, my dear!
So sorry for your loss, there really are no words to really express the depth of your pain. Praying for you all..
I nominated you for a Very Inspiring & Versatile Blogger Award, info on how to accept here
http://versatilestylebytracey.com/2013/01/28/very-inspiring-versatile-blogger-award/
I was nominated weeks ago while suffering the flu, so if timing is not right shelf it and look at it later!
So sorry Mary. A prayer said for you and all your family.
Praying for you and your family!
I am so sorry Mary. My thoughts and prayers are with you and your family.
Pat Lawrence
I am so sorry. 🙁 Praying for peace for you and your family.
This is so very brave of you to share, I hope it brings you healing. Thinking of you all.
Oh, Mary. I am so sorry. Emailing you now.
I’m sorry. I have experienced this, and I know the devastation and emptiness that it brings. Talking about it helped me, and I was lucky to have friends and families that were comfortable with me doing that. There was also a darling little 4 year old girl at church (we didn’t have children at the time) who must have been told by her parents what had happened. She came up to me at church and said that she knew I was sad, because I thought I was having a baby and now I wasn’t. I told her that yes, I was, and she said “It’s OK, I’ll just be your baby.” and sat down next to me and gave me a hug. I hope you and Chris will get hugs when you need one. I too will be praying for all of you.
I’m very sorry for your loss, Mary. We experienced a miscarriage in 2008 and it was a very sad experience. One thing that helped us was to name our baby. We also planted a rosebush in memory of him or her. I pray you find peace.
So sorry for you and your family! My thoughts are with y’all at this hard time