

I remember this day so vividly. It feels like it was yesterday I was sitting in this chair with tiny Rylee in my arms, just 2 days old. So consumed with love…knowing from this day on, my life would never be the same. She’s changed us completely. She’s brought us a new purpose, a new kind of joy. She’s challenged our marriage, motivated us to be better people, better parents, better partners. I remember the anticipation and excitement leading up to her arrival. Feeling her move in my tummy and wonder what she would be like, who she would look like. I remember feeling nervous about labor, but at the same time, so completely ready for it so that I could finally meet this little person I had grown so attached to.
And then there she was. This perfect, screaming, purple baby. Placed on my chest and melting every part of my heart. At that moment, nothing seemed to matter but her. I’d do anything for her.
We found out in February that we were expecting baby #2! All the excitement that I felt when I first found out about Rylee came flooding back to me! I’d get to experience it all over again. Believe it or not, I was looking forward to the morning sickness, the all day waves of nausea and packing on the lbs….because I knew the joy that was waiting for us at the end of it. But the sickness never came. I immediately started thinking it was a boy. They say every pregnancy is different. So maybe boys don’t make me sick (the most positive thinking I could muster) As the weeks went by though, I started to doubt. Something just didn’t feel right. I actually dreamt of loosing it. Horrible nightmares that woke me in a hot sweat. And then, just two days prior to my ultrasound, I began to spot. It’s like I knew what was coming. But my doubt was subdued when I got a perfectly healthy ultrasound. 6 weeks and 2 days, with the tiniest flicker of a heartbeat.
That ultrasound made it real. I was attached. I was going to be ok. This baby was going to be ok. What I was experiencing, I so wanted to believe was just implantation bleeding, like the doctor suggested it might be. But in my heart, I think I still knew. The spotting went on for what felt like forever. It was torture. If I was going to miscarry, I just wanted it to happen. And if this baby was going to make it, I just wanted it to stop. God, how I wanted it to stop. I prayed and prayed that God’s will be done. And on Friday, “it happened”. I knew right away when it did. I was preparing myself for this, but I didn’t realize how hard it would be until it actually happened. And then going back to the doctor to have that same ultrasound…..only to see an empty uterus where there once was a baby….a heartbeat….a tiny soul growing inside of me. It was like a knife straight to my heart.
The hot tears came streaming down my face….as they are now as I write this. My heart breaks for the baby that I was never able to meet. My November baby, who just might have been born on Thanksgiving. I tried so hard to be rational. To remember how common this is and how many successful pregnancies there are post miscarriage. But it did not help my heart. I am grieving this baby. Every part of me wants it back. I want to rewind two weeks and start over, I want a new outcome. But in all my anger and confusion, all I can do is lay it at the feet of the Lord. I know He has a plan for me. And I have to believe this baby is now rejoicing with Him in heaven. Along with all the other babies that never got to walk this earth. And one day, I will be able to meet him/her and kiss their sweet face and hold them tight like I wish I could have here.
Despite my sadness, loosing this baby has filled me with such gratitude for my Rylee. My perfectly healthy, spunky, one and a half year old that fills me with more joy than anything on earth. How blessed we are to have her. I realize how many people struggle for years with infertility or loose their baby so much farther along in their pregnancies. So in perspective, I know I have so much to be thankful for. But right now, I am allowing myself to feel sad over this precious lost life. I’ll see you in heaven little one. I hope you are dancing with your great grandpa.