It’s been a while since I’ve talked about miscarriage here, probably because I try very hard to live in the moment with the sweet baby that we are so blessed to have here with us.
If I can be a little honest though having Weston here almost makes it harder to stomach the miscarriage that we had almost two years ago. It makes it harder because he is so wonderful, so healthy, so happy, so beautifully and wonderfully made. So smart and funny and strong. So perfect in every little way. Seeing him grow and develop, hearing his precious laugh and seeing his face light up when Nate comes in the house. Watching the milestones fly by. All of it is so amazing…but it also makes me realize what we truly lost when we lost our first little baby. That each child has a unique personality, individual little quirks, needs and wants. We’ll know what those are when we meet our sweet baby in heaven someday, but for now, it’s all unknown and even two years later that loss is still so painful.
One thing that I wish I had done was ask the doctor who performed the D&C if she could find out the gender at all – if it was at all apparent – and let us know so that we could properly name our sweet baby. We never found out if it was a charming little boy or a sweet baby girl that we would have had, and as such we never named him/her. In a moment of revealing the true ugliness of my heart I just wanted the baby out. Knowing that the baby inside of me that I loved so much I could hardly stand it – knowing that baby was dead and still inside was almost too much at the time. I just wanted to feel normal. So I didn’t ask and that’s the biggest thing I regret to this day.
But two years later I still want to give that baby the dignity of having been named. To be able to mourn him/her by name. To give light to the darkness that can often fill my heart when Weston is asleep and I’m alone in my thoughts and sadness of the loss of that first sweet child.
So I named our baby. I named him/her Story. Because he or she is a big part of our story – the beginning of our story of parenthood, the beginning of my story of becoming a mommy, and he/she will always be interwoven into the story of the life of our family.
Y’all, I can’t tell you how I’ve sat here and sobbed for hours on end while trying to eek out some words for this post. I am still so sad at times, but I am also coming to a point where I feel hopeful – hopeful about seeing our sweet Story someday and comforted by the fact that I know exactly where our baby is. And knowing that Story finally has a name? Well, it’s a joy