Earlier this week, we celebrated our daughter’s 1st heavenly birthday.
My son decided that Seraphina needed “balloons & hearts for her birthday”
On May 2, 2016, our 2nd baby went directly to heaven, a miscarriage that yanked the rug out from under me and sent me into a tailspin for the following year. You can read all about our loss of Seraphina here. (And, our first loss, Gale, here.)
The time following pregnancy loss, specifically when you had seen your baby on an ultrasound, who’s heartbeat you heard and cherished, and who’s presence you shared with loves ones aren’t easy. And, you don’t move on from the physical pain and emotional & spiritual suffering, as quickly many people think or assume you do or should.
Your entire world is now operating from this point of reference. You’re carrying this burden around with you that is unseen by the world at large. You think about it daily, especially during the time when your body is recovering from the trauma it has been through. It’s a daily reminder that your child is now gone.
I have a friend who’s baby was born about 10 days before my miscarriage. I was due to bring them a meal and meet the baby (and was planning to tell them about our pregnancy). That was the first big hurdle that was in front of me. The thought of seeing that newborn and having to tell them of my own loss was too much for me at that time.
And, that was just the beginning of a very dark year for me. Read More
(WARNING: This is a long blog!)
She was supposed to be our “rainbow baby” – the joy after the storm.
When we found out we were pregnant again, 4 months after losing our baby Gale, I was excited. The likelihood of miscarrying again, back to back, was very low. My doctor had me come in within a couple of days of my initial call to check my HGC levels to make sure the pregnancy was strong. I registered “low”, but passable and was put on progesterone supplements. A couple of days later, my HGC levels were checked again and were soaring.
At 8 weeks, we loaded up the whole crew and waited to see the newest member of our family up on the “big screen”. After waiting through a “full work-up” OB appointment for me, the kids running through halls and the staff being kind enough to put up with all the noise, we finally got to see the baby. Her heart was beating like a champ, the kids were thrilled to discover they were going to have a new sibling (“Please, not another girl, Mom,” said our 5 year old, only son), and I felt confident that we’d be celebrating another birthday around Thanksgiving. My doctor scheduled me for another ultrasound at 11 weeks “just to be sure of things”. Read More
I just received word through the social media grapevine that a couple that I knew only distantly in college suffered a great tragedy – the husband was killed in a car wreck late last night and she is now widowed with 6 young children and a 7th on the way.
Tomorrow is the 1 year anniversary of death of another friend from college who was diagnosed, fought, and died valiantly from an intense form of cancer all in a couple of months time. His wife was also left widowed with 3 young children, pregnant with their 4th.
On Dec. 12, a lovely young mother here in town also died from cancer, after 6 months of fighting, leaving behind her husband and 3 daughters who are 3, 2, and 6 months old. She was only 32.
There’s never a lack of tragic situations happening in the world at large as well in our specific communities, families, and churches. Sometimes, though, it seems like certain communities are hit really hard in relation to others.
One of my “circles” of people is my alma mater, Franciscan University of Steubenville. Being that it’s a university, my connections and friendships spread much wider there than some of my smaller, more personal circles. Though it is not a large university, there’s been a specific contingency of people (Catholic young families) overwhelmingly affected by hardships in the past year.