I do a post on October 15th every year. Today is Pregnancy and Infant Loss Remembrance Day. For those of you who don’t know our story, you can start here: post 1, post 2, post 3.
It hurts looking back on those old entries, when we were in the trenches of fertility issues, but it no longer feels as agonizing as it did when I posted them. I want to go back in time and give myself a hug, cry with her but let her know it is all going to work out how it is meant to work out. She just has to weather the storm before the rainbows.
We feel beyond blessed to have our two beautiful children. We fought long and hard to get here, and now we are ‘two and through’. It is such a relief to end this chapter in our lives and focus on enjoying our babies. Watching them grow up and become their own independent, fierce selves is the start of a new adventure. No more waiting, wondering, and pain.
This journey defined much of my 20’s. I never thought that having a family would be fraught with so many obstacles and uncertainties. When we tried one last time for baby #7, we agreed that it would be the last pregnancy, regardless of the outcome. As it turned out, baby R was lucky #7 and I was able to bring my second baby home.
The truth is, though, that it doesn’t work out for a lot of people. Their journeys do not always have happy endings. I light my candle today during the Wave of Light for my losses, their losses, and for the dreams that will never be realized. My heart breaks for it all and reminds me that I can never take anything in my life for granted. For those still struggling, I see you and send you more love than you know. I am here for you, please reach out and tell me your story.
Taylor, Conor, W, and R
It’s National Pregnancy and Infant Loss Remembrance Day. For those of you who don’t know our history, you can read this post and this post to catch up. I feel like I need to acknowledge this day with a post again, because even though we can’t celebrate a birthday we can at least dedicate a candle to them.
To be honest, I really didn’t want to write today. I am just…tired. Tired of imagining alternate timelines. Tired of the due-dates-that-never-were swirling around in my brain, impossible to forget. I am tired of the anxiety surrounding all things pregnancy related. Tired of no answers. Tired of tests and research that went nowhere. Tired of people feeling sad for us. Tired of being sad. Tired of hoping only to be let down again.
I’ve been pregnant 5 times. 5 times of symptom spotting, peeing on every stick in sight, and finally getting those two lines, only to break my heart in all but one instance.
I am thankful every day for my little girl. Still, though, I feel like I was robbed of enjoyment with her. I lived 9 months terrified that something would go wrong. I wish I could have been one of those happy, glowing pregnant women filled with excitement and celebrating the whole time, doing the pregnancy reveal and gender party. I can’t even imagine getting a positive test and automatically assuming that it leads to a baby.
So, where does this leave us? I don’t know. Each loss has changed us in a different way. My recent loss with twins in June felt like a different blow. Not only did it affect me and Conor, but W as well. Moving forward we need to consider what is best for her, too, and how long we are willing to leave this door of possibility open for. For my health, sanity, and well being of our family, at some point we will have to close it and be thankful for what we have.
If you know someone who has suffered a loss, reach out today. Let moms and dads know you’re thinking about them. It goes a long way.
Taylor, Conor, and W