~On the Wings of Angels~ You Just Never Know...

Today, I am honored to have my dear friend Audrey guest posting on my blog to help raise awareness for Pregnancy & Infant Loss Awareness Month.  Audrey & I "met" on Twitter.  We connected just a few months after my second miscarriage as she had just started suffering through her second loss.  You can find Audrey blogging over at Stuff Audrey Says.  In today's post, Audrey speaks as to why you shouldn't always assume that other mothers have no clue of what your grief and heartbreak feels like...

*Also do not forget to enter to win the beautiful Shades of Awareness Custom Infertility/Miscarriage Awareness Necklace on my blog HERE.

I attended a yoga workshop a few weeks ago. A woman I had never met placed her mat next to mine and we began to talk. I don't want to tell you too much about her, but her story ended like this:

"...and then I went into labor."

I remembered. I remembered the doctors telling me that my babies had no heartbeats. I remembered that I would never get to hold them, and I instantly resented her for having what I didn't.

It wasn't until weeks later that I learned her whole story, and that her baby was born full-term, but sleeping. Still. She knew the same pain I did.

I sat with my mouth hanging open, dumbfounded. I, of all people, judged her. I judged myself. I knew even then how common pregnancy and stillbirth was, and yet I assumed that she had an infant waiting for her at home with a babysitter. 

I should have hugged her, not judged her. I am ashamed that, in my bitterness, I jumped to conclusions so quickly. There could have been healing there, comfort even, but instead there was judgment. My thoughts spun as I listened to the rest of her story.

What I thought I knew, but learned again that day, is this: you just never know.

One in four women will experience loss. You'd think that someone like me, who had experienced the loss of a child three times, would know that.

Reach across the mat. I wish I had.

Be kind, for everyone you meet is fighting a hard battle.

Plato

Audrey is a three-time miscarriage survivor and blogs about life as she knows it over at www.stuffaudreysays.com. She works an 8-to-5 and loves all things canine and graphic design. Please go say hello!

The Mother I am Today....

How ironic is it that the loss of my two sweet babies so early on has helped me become a better, more loving mother?

I took so much for granted before.  I cringe to think of how much of my son's precious childhood I squandered while I was doing "life".  I was young then.  Naive.  Ignorant to how quickly grief and heartache can find you.  Not aware of how those priceless days of baby chub, and a head full of soft curls, and mommy snuggles would slip by me.  Always thinking there will be another baby before too long, and I will get to enjoy all of that once more.

Then my first miscarriage happened.  It ripped out my heart.  But it was just one loss.  Lots of women suffer the loss of a single pregnancy and then go on to have more babies with no complications, no worries, no more losses.

Then I got pregnant again almost exactly one year from the time of my first miscarriage.  And I was terrified.  I did not expect to feel that way.  Every twinge I over analyzed.  And then the spotting started.  I already knew before it was confirmed.  I spent that first night sobbing with my husband until 3am, already knowing what was about to happen.  I was losing this baby too.  My heart broke.  Again.

Now the possibility that I may never have another baby became more of a reality to me.  I grieved.  For the babies that were with me just a few short, sweet moments and that I would never get to see grow.  And for my only son's young childhood that I feel I didn't savor and soak in quite enough.  Guilt and regret.  That is what I felt...

A few months after I lost our Blueberry, I found out I was pregnant again.  I was elated.  Scared, worried.  But excited and overjoyed.

We made it through the first trimester, and then the second, and then before we knew it our baby girl was here.  With us.  In our arms. <3

My tiny angels have shaped and influenced the mother that I am today.  Those few short moments they were a part of me on this earth, a total of 21 weeks combined, changed who I am forever and for the better.  

I watch my daughter grow, healthy and strong.  I remember how easily this outcome could have been different.  I feel blessed.  And fortunate.  And grateful.

I breathe her in.  ALL THE TIME.  She snuggles up to me in the middle of the night to nurse, and rests her head beneath my chin, and I kiss her forehead and smell the top of her sweet head that has just recently started to become soft with tiny curls.

I don't take too much for granted now.  Ever.  

I pray for the health and safety of both of my children every single night.

I am more present, for her and for my son.

Sadly, I am not sure I would have become the mother I am now had not been for my two sweet losses.  For that, I am eternally grateful to both of my angels. <3

Shades of Awareness Giveaway~ Custom PAIL Awareness Necklace

I am beyond thrilled that the lovely Michelle from Shades of Awareness Jewelry has agreed to sponsor a wonderful and touching giveaway on my blog to help raise awareness for Pregnancy and Infant Loss during the month of October.  I have been trying to spread the word that October is Not Just All Pink Ribbons.  October 15th is Pregnancy & Infant Loss Awareness Day.  Tonight at 7:00pm across the world, grieving parents everywhere will be lighting a single candle in honor and remembrance of their little ones who were much too precious for this world. <3  I will be lighting a candle to remember my Peanut (lost January 2010 at around 14 weeks, stopped growing at 6-7 weeks) and my sweet Blueberry (lost January 2011 at around 7 1/2 weeks).  

To honor the mothers, the survivors of pregnancy and infant loss, Shades of Awareness would love to give one beautiful mama this necklace...

The winner of this giveaway will be able to choose which sterling message ring they would like- HOPE, Believe, SURVIVOR, or STRENGTH.

Shades of Awareness creates a wide array of jewelry that honors and raises awareness for any and every cause you can think of.  Please check out her etsy shop to see her many other beautiful pieces.  Here are a few others that I absolutely love...

I actually own this one. :) ^^^

This giveaway is open internationally.  Giveaway ends at 12:01am on Monday, October 22nd.  Once the winner is announced & emailed, they will have 48 hours to reply back or a new winner will have to be chosen.  The giveaway is for the custom sterling silver message ring necklace ONLY (value $32).  Please use the Rafflecopter below to enter.

Good luck to all! :)

a Rafflecopter giveaway

~On the Wings of Angels~ Mama to Seven

In my continuing effort to raise awareness for Pregnancy & Infant Loss this month, my dear friend Vanessa is sharing her story with us all today.  I first met Vanessa through Twitter after I had suffered my second miscarriage.  She is such a sweet, supportive soul and we spent quite a few tweet sessions holding each other up the best that we could. <3  To read more about Vanessa's story, please feel free to visit and follow along with her on her blog, Pure Ness.

Whenever I meet someone new, I harbor a tiny feeling of dread for the moment I get asked that question, especially when that someone is a parent. What do parents like to talk about the most? Their kids. Somewhere in that initial conversation, you're bound to get some variation of the question, "How many kids do you have?" Doesn't really sound like such a horrible question does it? An innocent conversation maker. How do I always answer?
"Just one."

Just one. Except I don't have just one. I have seven children. Seven. There's just only one on earth with me. I hate answering that question. I always feel a little bit of guilt, a small feeling of betraying my other children, because they all deserve to be recognized, to be known, acknowledged. I love them all, I miss them all, they are all part of my life, of what makes me, me. Part of me longs to answer, "Seven," or, "One on earth." I want people to know I have all these wonderful, amazing children, but except for the very, very rare time, I can't bring myself to do it. It opens me up to questions I don't always want to answer, things I don't necessarily want to share with relative strangers. It would make people feel sorry for me, or just sorry they asked the question in the first place, because "Whoa. That's far deeper water than I was intending to get into," and then the conversation becomes all awkward and stilted. I don't want to be the one to bring a dampener to a casual conversation.

I think that if I could just say it casually, a simple statement of fact, that maybe it wouldn't be so bad, but then I'm afraid that I'll appear callous, making little of miscarriage and related losses, the permanent mark left on my soul. Or be reinforcing the idea that miscarriage is not a big deal, sad, but you get over it, you know? But it is a big deal. It's huge. It's heartbreaking and life changing. And you don't really get over it, you just learn (or try to anyways) to accept it as part of your life. The losses become part of who you are.

I also have trouble answering this question as honestly as I want to, because I don't want to be known as the women who had six miscarriages. I don't want this to be my identity. I have had six miscarriages, but more than that, I am Mother to seven children. Seven children who I love dearly, six who I miss daily. One amazing boy that I get to cuddle, hug, and put to bed every night, and six that I love from a distance. I call them by name, I tell them how much I love them and I miss them. I tell them how glad I am that they are happy and that they have each other. I remind them to look out for one another, even though they really don't need to do that there (the mother in me can't help it). I ask Jesus to give them the hugs I so long to give to them myself. I can see them, how beautiful and strong they are. I see how kind they are and how full of love and joy, and I'm so incredibly proud to be their Mama.

Despite my guilt at not acknowledging them, at not sharing with the world that I have six more wonderful children, I know they hold nothing against me. They love me without hesitance, despite my hesitance to bring them up in casual conversation. They have no needs from me, they simply love me as I am, as I love them. They know how proud I am of them, and with this post I will find a way to begin telling everyone else how proud I am of them too.

- Vanessa, Mama to JJ, Dunadan, Anastasios, Sayuri, Tacey, Aliento, and Nima

~On the Wings of Angels Memorial Bracelet Giveaway~

October is not just about the pink and saving the tatas.  October is also dedicated to Pregnancy and Infant Loss Awareness.  Throughout this entire month, I will be doing my part the best that I can to raise awareness, to break the silence, to make the heartbreaking topic of pregnancy & infant loss less taboo.  

I wasn't always so outspoken and forthcoming about my losses.  There was a time when I didn't talk about my sweet angels.  There was a time when it seemed no one wanted to hear about my babies who were too precious for this earth.  

But I realized I was doing myself a disservice.  I was not honoring my angels like I wanted to.  I was not making myself available to other grieving mamas who may need a safe place to talk, to vent, to just be.

So, I started talking about them.  My miscarriages.  My babies. My unexplained secondary infertility.  

At first, to just a somewhat anonymous Twitter community.

And then finally I came out to my friends and family.

And I found that it has been helping me heal.  My heart will never be completely unbroken.  That is not possible.

But talking about my precious Peanut and Blueberry, being there for other grieving mamas has helped eased the pain.

I knew that I wanted to do a few special things for my grieving mothers out there this month.  For one of these, I commissioned my sister of Gems by Ginny to create this beautiful bracelet of baby blue and pink crystals adorned with silver angel winged hearts.  I wanted one of my fellow mamas of a sweet, sweet angel to have this.  To wear this and know that her baby is not forgotten.  

(If you are interested in contacting Ginny to create a custom memorial bracelet for yourself or a dear friend or family member, please do not hesitate to email her at ginnylt@yahoo.com.  She would be more than happy to work with you to create the perfect bracelet, necklace, or earrings.)

How can you win?  Just complete the Rafflecopter form below.  I am showing some love for Karen of Patching Hearts who wrote a beautiful guest post on my blog Friday about her sweet angel, Parker, so a couple of the entries are for her. <3

This giveaway is open to US & Canadian residents only.  I wish I could make it international, but shipping costs & customs makes this difficult for me. :(  Giveaway ends at 12:01am on Monday, October 15th.  Once the winner is announced & emailed, they will have 48 hours to reply back or a new winner will have to be chosen.

a Rafflecopter giveaway

~On the Wings of an Angel~ Parker's Story

In my efforts to raise awareness for Pregnancy and Infant Loss on my blog throughout the month of October, I have invited some beautiful, courageous mothers to share their stories with my readers this month.  Today, I am honored to have Karen from patching hearts.  I believe that my meeting Karen was fate.  She actually won a group giveaway in which I was giving away an ad spot.  I fell in love with her and her blog the first day I clicked on over. <3
Thank you, Karen for sharing Parker's beautiful story with us today...

Thanks so much to Carrie for letting me tell my story today.  Our story began 5 years ago.  After trying to conceive unsuccessfully for about a year, we sought out help through a fertility clinic.  In January 2008 I found out I was pregnant.  Four weeks later, I learned that it was twins.  There are no words to describe our excitement.  I had secretly (or maybe not so secretly) always dreamed of having twins.  The Doctor described my babies that day as 2 diamond rings and I loved that analogy as they were (and still are) so precious to me.  They had strong heartbeats.  Other than the horrific morning sickness, I had a good pregnancy up until 30 weeks. 

At 30 weeks, I went into preterm labor and was put on bed rest.  I was okay with that.  I would have done anything to protect my babies.  I continued having weekly appointments with my OB and biweekly appointments with the high risk specialist.  At 35 weeks, 6 days, I was seen by my OB.  This was the turning point in my pregnancy.  I remember begging her to take the babies that day.  I was partially joking at the time, but didn’t realize what a pivotal moment that really was.  Of course, she said no.  Sometime between that morning and 2 days later (at 36 weeks, 1 day), I lost my son, Parker.

I can’t tell you when it happened.  For that, I will always feel tremendous guilt.  I mean, how could I not know?  It happened in my belly…on my watch!  My job was to protect my children and I failed.  That is how I saw it.  I still think back and wonder…when did it happen?  Did it hurt?  Did Mia know what was going on? 

This is what I do know…  Thursday morning, September 11, I went to see the high risk Doctor. The ultrasound tech was abnormally quiet.  I just thought she was having a bad day.  I didn’t really pay attention.  Finally, she said she needed to find the Doctor.  I asked what was wrong.  I was starting to panic at that point.  She said she could not find a heartbeat for baby B. 

Shortly after, I was sent across the street to Labor and Delivery where it was confirmed that we lost our son.  We lost Parker.  I was put in a room for a couple of hours with one pink monitor on my belly instead of 2 (a pink and a blue).  In some ways, that afternoon is a blur and in others, I remember it in slow motion.  Family came.  They tried to stay positive, trying to keep me from getting upset.  I called my Dad who insisted the Doctor was wrong and maybe Parker was okay.  It was surreal. 

At 5:44pm, I delivered the most beautiful little girl I have ever seen.  Mia Rosalie was born weighing 5 lbs and 15 oz and screaming.  It was music to my ears.

At 5:47pm, the room was silent as I delivered my 4 lbs, 14oz son, Parker Kennedy. 

My husband had gone with Mia and it was just me and the Doctor and nurses and NICU team.  The umbilical cord had wrapped around his neck, arm, and leg twice.  It was a long thin cord, which sometimes happens with twin births.  My Doctor said she had never seen a baby so tangled.  I knew this had to be true as he was the most active baby I’ve ever felt (even since then).  He was constantly doing flips.  Now, you may wonder…if he was constantly moving, didn’t you wonder why he stopped?   The answer is no.  By the time I was 36 weeks along, they were so big I couldn’t tell who was who in there.  I wish I could say that I felt him not move.  I wish I could pinpoint when it happened, but I can’t. 

After losing Parker, we decided to try again.  I got pregnant on my own 6 months later and at 8 weeks (on my first Mother’s Day weekend no less), after hearing the strong normal heartbeat, we lost that baby as well. 

Three months later, we tried IVF again and I gave birth to a gorgeous 6 lb, 12 oz little boy, Paxton Christopher, who brings me so much joy every day.

While my story is a sad one…I am not the only one.  So many people experience infant and newborn loss, stillbirth, and miscarriage every day.  Let’s take this month to remember all of our babies. 

If you are looking for ways to help or ways to remember your baby, here are some ideas that we do:

·         Walk in the March of Dimes, March for Babies

·         Donate toys to the hospital every year on Parker’s birthday

·         Adopt 2 children at Christmas for the 2 we lost

·         Plant a tree

·         Talk about them.  We are very open about our loss and I just love hearing his name and knowing that people remember him

October is Not Just All Pink Ribbons...

I know this month will be awash in pink ribbons.  The NFL will sport their signature pink gloves and cleats.  Pink foil tops will adorn your morning yogurt cups.  Your morning national news shows will showcase several stories of courage, survival, and perseverance in the face of breast cancer.

What many people will not notice will be the tiny baby blue and pink ribbons grief stricken mothers will be wearing, maybe even displaying on their Facebook pages if they have even dared to speak of their losses to others yet...

No one wants to talk about pregnancy loss.  Or little babies who only shared a few short moments on this earth with us.

It is taboo.  It is not appropriate.  It makes people uncomfortable.

But the month of October also belongs to Pregnancy and Infant Loss Awareness.  

Those of you who have been following my blog for a while know why this cause is so near and dear to me. 

For those of you new to my little space here in the blogosphere, I am the mother to two sweet angels in addition to my son and daughter who share this life with me here and now.

I lost two babies, both in my first trimesters almost exactly one year to the date apart.  

They were a part of me.  They were real.  They were here.  And now they are gone.

But the imprint they made on my heart is not.

The grief still is not...

I am not trying to make this a competition between the causes.  Breast Cancer Awareness is also a cause near to my heart.  I have a grandmother that I have never met because of cancer.  

I am just asking that during our pink hued good heartedness this month that we not forget the brokenhearted parents who had to let go of their sweet babies too soon...

Throughout the month of October I will be doing my small part on my blog to try and raise more awareness for Pregnancy and Infant Loss (PAIL).  I will be sharing my stories.  I will be featuring a few guest posts from some of my close friends who need their stories heard.  And there will be a few giveaways from some lovely sponsors for beautiful PAIL mementos.  I ask that you all join me this month in raising awareness. <3

If you have a story that you would like to share on my blog or a pregnancy/infant loss organization that you would like my readers to know more about, please do not hesitate to email me at thefrugalfoodiemama{@}yahoo.com.

Open...

Oh, my heavy, heavy heart...  So much sadness and heartbreak and grief on my Facebook this past week.  The loss of sweet little ones.  Angels here on earth and now in heaven.  It has all been like reopening a wound.  A wound I keep thinking is scarred over enough by now to maybe itch a bit, but not be tore back open.

But here it is.  Open.  
The heartache... real.  The tears I keep choking back... real.

I want to wrap my arms around these sad, grieving, heartbroken mamas...  Women I have never & probably will never meet in real life, but whom I share a sisterhood of sorts with.  Not a sisterhood any woman really ever wants to find themselves in...

These stories of precious babies lost to us much too soon are sometimes too much for me to bear.  They are harsh reminders of how cruel life can sometimes be.  How so much of it is beyond our control.  
And it scares me.  To the core.  

Summer Blog Challenge, Day 40- The Hardest Challenge I Have Been Faced With...

The hardest challenge I have ever had to face was the decision to try to get pregnant again, and then the actual pregnancy itself.


Before our sweet baby girl came to us I had had two early miscarriages in a row.  My first miscarriage was what they term a missed miscarriage.  The baby had stopped growing earlier on, but my body still acted as if it was pregnant.  I found out when I thought I was about 12-13 weeks pregnant.  I had went to the ER because I just felt something wasn't right even though I had no outwardly symptoms of a miscarriage.  The ER confirmed what my instinct seemed to already know- my baby had stopped growing around 7 weeks.  A couple of days later, I went to the women's clinic at the same hospital and received my only picture I would ever have of that baby.  My tiny, motionless little Peanut. Floating.
My second miscarriage happened almost exactly one year to the date from my first one.  But this one happened much more quickly, and naturally.  I was 8 weeks pregnant and started spotting and cramping.  I lost Blueberry that same weekend.


Two miscarriages in a row combined with my age and the fact that I had a healthy 12 year old son put me into the secondary infertility category.  My OB ordered every blood test possible- everything came back normal.
She performed a saline sonogram- everything looked normal.
And she said to go ahead and try, that she would see me for my first prenatal appointment.


Never had more hopeful and fearful words been spoken to me.
We had no answers, no reasons why but she wanted us to just jump right in there again and try.
We fortunately got pregnant right away... with the quintessential honeymoon baby.  The first trimester was one of the hardest and one of the most blessed things I have ever had to experience.  Each ultrasound started with anxiety, fear, sometimes panic, and ended with relief and joy.

I am not sure if my husband and I will try for another baby.  We still have a couple of years to decide.  But the possibility excites me and scares the hell out of me all at the same time.  My pregnancy with baby girl was so anxiety-ridden and scary at times that I am not sure I would want to endure that again.  Plus, with the next baby I would be over 35.  That opens up a whole new bag of fears.  For now, we are enjoying and cherishing our precious little girl.  I feel we will know what decision to make about adding to our family when the time comes... 

Grief. Unexpected.

Grief takes you by surprise sometimes... It can lie dormant for months, and just like that grip you deep inside again.  Unexpectedly.  And with little or no provocation.  


Today I thought of the little ones I lost so early on in my pregnancies.  How I lost them.  What happened to them.  How they both slipped from my body, from my protection.  Their tiny, tiny bodies being lost to me forever.  Today I thought of how I wish I had them close to me instead of where they both ultimately ended up... flushed away.  I am saddened that what remained of them was not honored how I would have liked.  I think a tiny urn would have done their very brief lives inside of me more honor than what had actually happened to them.  I hate thinking of my babies there.... floating.  They didn't deserve that. But just as I was powerless to protect them inside of me, I was also powerless to protect them once they left me. My heart aches for them...


I am so, so grateful to have my beautiful daughter.  And for my son I was blessed with over 13 years ago.  I know I will see my angels one day.  My sweet babies that I couldn't even name.  I didn't feel like they were ever mine to name.  I know one beautiful day an angel will whisper their names to me as she takes my hand to lead me to them.  To finally hold them both in my arms...

There is a story behind this picture...

Some of you may recognize it as the background on my Twitter profile page. 

This past summer a lot of things were not going well in my life.  I had lost Peanut earlier that year, and the loss of our baby sent my relationship with my then boyfriend into a rapid downward spiral.  Within a couple of months of the miscarriage, we had broken up and he had moved out.

I was alone.  And overwhelmed with the emotions and sadness that followed losing Peanut.  Sometimes I would cry uncontrollably.  Sometimes I blamed myself.  Mostly I asked why and only heard silence.

This was my first realization that just because you are pregnant doesn't mean that you will stay pregnant.  My faith in my body's ability to nurture and sustain a baby was shattered.  I felt betrayed, tricked by my own body.  How could it easily carry my son for 9 months with no complications and now it couldn't keep a baby safe longer than 6 or 7 weeks?

While struggling with these feelings of self-doubt and pain, I lost my job teaching.  The school I was working at closed it's doors.  Now I didn't have financial security, or a baby, or a stable relationship...  I couldn't even continue what I had already been doing successfully for years at this point- provide a stable home environment for my son.  I felt myself falling into a deep crevice.  What was I going to do?

During this time when everything seemed to be going completely wrong, I decided to load up Charlie (my papillon) and his leash into the car and head to the local park.  After all it was a beautiful day, and I was tired of sitting in the house that I could no longer afford to live in. 
We walked for a while and then I sat on top of a picnic table and let Charlie run around a bit off of his leash. 

I turned and looked up towards the trees above me and the photo you see above is exactly what I saw.  A feeling of peace, of warmth came over me and I started to cry.  Right there on that wooden picnic table in the middle of a park.  I knew that eventually things would get better. And I started the process of learning to forgive myself, of finding out how I could let go, to pick up the pieces, and eventually move forward in my life... 

That Was One Hell of a Way to Find Out Your Next Grandbaby is on the Way...

Or in this case, that he or she wouldn't be. 

I was pinned between my parents' large SUV and the car that they had parked beside.  I had not seen it coming.  I had no idea what was happening, but I could see my mother's face.  She was towards the front of her car when the parked (and running) truck had come out of gear and slammed into the back end of their SUV.  I had been standing towards the rear of their car, my back turned to the rest of the parking lot when it happened. I was pinned at somewhat of an angle at my hips between the cars and I was terrified.  I felt the pressure of the weight of the vehicles on me and I remember thinking to myself, "Oh God. What if this doesn't stop?". But it did and not a moment too soon.  I wiggled myself free, and then the shock of it hit me- Oh my God. I am 7 weeks pregnant and I haven't even told my parents yet.  I have to go to the hospital, and now this is how they are going to find out??

Yeah, that was not how I pictured it would go.  I thought for sure the fiance and I would be planning a day trip to our hometown after our 9 weeks appointment.  After hearing the heartbeat, and seeing our Blueberry on the ultrasound screen.  And then, we would visit our parents and tell them all the wonderful news... 

But here I was instead.  At the scene of an accident. A freak, stupid accident. 
The medics arrived, and asked me if I needed to go to the hospital.  And I had to say yes.  Yes, because I am 7 weeks pregnant.  And I have already been having brownish spotting, and sporadic mild cramps for the past 2 days.  The look on my mother's face is one I wish that I will never see again.  It was a look of sadness, of horror, and complete and utter shock.  And of the overwhelming concern only a mother can have. 

We prayed that she would stay in there, not leave us.  I imagined that when she was older we would be telling her the story of what happened when I was 7 weeks pregnant with her.  How she had been a tough cookie, and a fighter from the get-go. 

But I lost Blueberry the morning after the accident.
In less than 24 hours, I had to tell my parents that I was pregnant and that I had then lost the baby.  I had told my mom the day the accident happened that I could be miscarrying already, to not get too excited yet.  But that didn't change her sadness when I had to make that call to her the very next morning. 
We can't know for sure if I was going to miscarry anyways, or if the accident was just too much for the already fragile pregnancy.

But I do know that my parents will be one of the first people who know that I am pregnant the next time that I am.  I cannot bear for them to find out in a way like that again.

There Are No Words... (No, there are not. So stick a sock in it.)

*Disclaimer*: This blog post is a tad snarky at times.  Also, this reflects my top 6 of what not to say to a mother who has lost her baby.  Your's may be different.  Please feel free to comment below and add to the list.

As a mother to two angel babies, I have heard the gamet of words of sympathy and condolesences.  Some people have no clue what to say to a grieving mother after she has lost a pregnancy (not that I feel everyone should be an expert on how to handle this, but that is what google is for, my friends).  And most of these people are smart and don't say much, offer a hug and a "I am sorry."  Then there are the ones who "think" they know just the right words to say...  And then they actually speak them aloud.  To you. And while you know they mean well, you can't help but fantasize about rolling up the biggest sock you can find and shoving it into their mouth. 

1. "It was God's plan."
     Yeah, this is what I most loathe to hear.  Or any reference to God or religion whatsoever when it comes to the loss of my baby.  God's plan??  Really?  Granted, I know they have no malicious intents whatsoever when giving religious comments of condolesences.  But that is like telling a cancer patient who is dying in the hospital that her suffering is God's will.  Or that a small child who has been neglected by her parents and dies of starvation was part of God's plan. I mean, who wants to be part of a plan like that anyways??

2.  "I know this has to be hard for you."
    Do NOT say that to me unless you have actually lost a pregnancy.  Because if you haven't lost a baby, then you DON'T know.  And even then, every mother's experience and grief is different.

3.  "You can always get try to get pregnant again."
    Really?  I didn't know that...  But that doesn't change the fact that I wanted THIS baby, my lost baby.  Also, maybe I fear that I can't get pregnant again.  Especially if I have lost more than one pregnancy now or had been trying for a while to conceive.  And even if this is my first loss, I am definitely wanting a reason for why this happened; and I am more than likely already terrified that maybe something is wrong with me.  That maybe I can't get and stay pregnant.

4.  "You already have one child.  Shouldn't you be thankful for that?"
    Already having one child does not mean for a minute that losing this baby hasn't hurt me just as much as the mother who has no children except for angel babies.  First of all, whether you realize it or not you are making me feel like a selfish, ungrateful bitch.  Of course I am thankful for my son!  But let me take away one of your living children and tell you to be grateful because you still have one or two more alive. 

5.  "There must have been something wrong, so it is for the best then."
   Apparently there was something wrong with the baby or with me or it would still be growing inside of me.  Please stick the knife in the wound even further and twist. And the best for whom exactly?

6.  "It is not like it was a real baby.  Be thankful you didn't actually know your baby."
  For most women trying to conceive, that mass of dividing cells is a baby from the moment that plus sign pops up on a pregnancy test.  You are already thinking pink or blue. You start reading the books. You change EVERYTHING about your lifestyle. You are growing YOUR baby.  Doesn't matter if you carried your baby for 5 weeks, 12 weeks, or have a healthy baby in your arms.  It is your baby from the moment you find out about it's tiny existence inside of you.

A Letter to Myself (to the me 14 months ago...)

Dear Me,

It's me.  I know you have already had a feeling about this.  Call it mother's intuition.  Very soon you will be going through something physically, mentally, emotionally that you never fathomed could happen to you.  I am here to tell you that you will be okay.  You will survive this, and things will get better.  But there are some things that you need to know.  Have a seat.

First of all, please don't take those pills.  Ugh. You are just dragging it out and you will torture yourself for over a week.  Take the option the doctor gives you for a D&C.  It is NOT the same thing as getting an abortion.  That baby knows that you wanted it.  Have them send the tissue off to be tested.  Try to find out why.  Now, in case you don't listen to me about the D&C (which you might not because I know how strongly you are going to be opposed to it), I want you to know that you will lose the major tissue (yes, the baby may be in there) at your boyfriend's grandmother's 80th birthday party.  Now this will be hard to get a handle on, but try to get a Ziploc bag & try to save it.  It may not be easy to do since you will be at a community rec center for the party.  Thus, PLEASE take my first suggestion.

Second, you did not make this happen.  You didn't do anything wrong and you did not fail your baby.  I know you are still going to feel some guilt and responsibility, but you will realize one day very soon that it was completely out of your hands.  It had NOTHING to do with the few drinks you had here and there.  It had nothing to do with the meds you were taking for your anxiety.  The pregnancy was a surprise.  You didn't know you were pregnant.  You did all that you could, and you were a good mother to your baby while he was still inside of you.  DO NOT BLAME YOURSELF.  Do not obsess about every little thing you did or put in your mouth while you were pregnant.  It will not change the outcome. 

I know things are going to seem very bleak after you have lost the baby.  But I want you to know that your life be AMAZING in less than a year.  You will be happier, stronger than you have been in years.

Love Always,
Me

P.S.  The school you are working at will close it's doors after the last day of school.  Pack up the house, move it all into storage, and GO HOME.  I know you are gonna hate to hear that, but you have to.  You need to.  Don't knock yourself out trying to make things work with a part-time job. You will just get yourself very deep into a financial hole which will bring back your anxiety attacks.  Don't be the stubborn ass you usually are.  Go back home to your family.  :)

Tiny Footprints on a Mother's Heart

This a poem that came with the a beautiful necklace my Mom gave after my first miscarriage.  I just came across it & wanted to share it with all of you.



Tiny Footprints on a Mother's Heart

When a baby arrives,

be it for a day, a month, or year or more,

or perhaps only

a sweet flickering moment

the fragile spark of a tender soul,

the secret swell of a new pregnancy

the goldfish flutter known only to you-

you are unmistakeningly changed...

the tiny footprints left

behind on your heart

bespeak your name as Mother.

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