From the beginning, my husband and I knew we wanted to be parents. We planned to settle down and
spend the first couple of years of our marriage building our home together. When the time was right we
began the process of trying to conceive. After a few long months, we were beyond elated to find out
that we were expecting. I was sure to be careful about everything that I put into my body, no caffeine,
no medications, no use of chemicals – from the start I knew that I wanted to do everything in my power
to protect the life we had created. From the beginning I felt the connection to our child and couldn’t
bear the thought of anything harming my little one.
At approximately 9 weeks pregnant we had our first ultrasound. Admittedly there were feelings of
nervousness – knowing the statistic and probability of miscarriage at this early stage. We were
overcome with joy to learn that the heartbeat was strong and all seemed well. The doctors only concern
was the measurement, so in order to accurately give us a due date, he ordered us to have a follow up
ultrasound at 13 weeks. We left with a sense of relief. The love and connection to our child grew even
stronger with a glimpse of its beating heart.
The Day I will never forget
A few weeks past and the time came for the follow up ultrasound. My husband and I were so excited
that were going to have an “extra” chance to see our growing miracle. We sat in the room together,
holding hands, making jokes about the awkwardness of these appointments and being our usual goofy
selves. The ultrasound began, and somehow we just knew. Instantly the mood changed, nothing was
said, nothing had to be said. The sound of the tiny beat heart we were so anxiously waiting to hear
wasn’t there. The doctor tried and tried until it was very clear our little miracle was no longer alive. In
an instance, our world was flipped upside down. Although we had only known of this life for just over 8
weeks, the bond was real, the love was real, and our child was real, the pain was immediate. I have
never seen such a look of heart break on a man’s face as I did on my husband’s that day. I pray I never
We were taken to a separate room to discuss this news further with the doctor and to discuss our next
steps. The doctor explained that my body still was working to protect the baby as if it was still alive, it
did not show any signs of “passing” the miscarried child- most likely due to the lateness of the
miscarriage occurring some time after approximately 10 weeks. This meant that the best option was to
have surgery; what is known as a D & C, to properly remove our little one. What an awful thought.
This type of loss is a loss that is hard to understand, hard to comprehend, if you have not experienced it
yourself. It became very clear that this was the case when expressing our pain to others. How can you
mourn something you never had? How can you possibly be connected to a child who had barely begun
to form? Often being told, you will get pregnant again; don’t worry; as if the life lost had little value.
Again, I assure you the pain is real. No, I never got to hold my child, but I never will here on Earth.
No, we didn’t even find out if it was a boy or a girl, but all we needed to know was that it was our child
and as any parent will tell you, there is no love more powerful than the love you have for your child,
from the moment you know of its existence.
I’d like to think of myself as a strong woman; admittedly it took some time for me to come to terms with
this loss. My husband and I clung to our faith and to each other. We prayed together each night, that
our child would be welcomed to Heaven and that God would protect them since we did not have the
opportunity to do so ourselves. We talked about our family members in Heaven who would get to meet
our angel before us, knowing he or she would be in great hands. God’s love, God’s plan, God’s will; this
is what gave us the strength to pull through. Knowing that we too would have the opportunity to meet
our tiny guardian angel when our time comes to join them in heaven, is perhaps the most comforting
thought and prayer of all.
We will never be the same
The loss has changed us. Obviously you cannot go through such a tragedy without being changed. I will
say however, that it has changed us for the better. Although my faith was greatly tested, in the end, it
has been strengthen. Although the life we lost was so small and fragile, it has taught us the true value of
life. When we were blessed with our second pregnancy, we truly cherished every moment, and had a
new perspective of just how miraculous pregnancy, birth and the growth of a child truly is. We will
never be same; we will forever be stronger in our faith and in our marriage.
My hope for other mothers
When I first began sharing my story with others, I was so surprised to find out just how many mothers
had experienced something similar. We all know the statistics, 1 and 4, but how could this be, no one
talks about it? Why is it such a secret? I guess maybe I was naïve, because I originally felt little reserve
for discussing my loss and expressing my pain. I did not realize that so many mothers feel ashamed of
the hurt they feel. I did not realize that so many, place such little value on life before birth.
It is my hope that sharing my story helps mothers to know that they are not alone. You are experiencing
true, real, valid pain and heartache. You have lost a REAL child. It is my prayer that we can unite as
mothers of angels, building a sense of comradery, understanding and support for each other and for
future mother’s who will unfortunately experience this same sense of loss. Let us stand together for the
child we have lost and for the mother’s grieving behind closed doors. Please know that although I may
not know you, I am with you, I am praying for you and I stand beside you as you give value to the life of
the child that you have lost.