This is not a normal blog for me. I want to share something personal but I believe we must break the silence.
Are you, or a loved one, a statistic? One in four women suffer a miscarriage, stillbirth or infant loss during their life. The month of October is set aside for Pregnancy and Infant Loss with the 15th being the specific day dedicated to remembering families and their infants that died due to miscarriage, stillbirth, SIDS or other infant loss. On October 15, a wave of light starts at 7 pm (local time) with candles being lit around the globe to honor the infants lost.
I am one of those one in four women. My little baby would have turned five years old the summer of 2017. If I had not lost my little one due to miscarriage, I do not know what my family would look like today. Would we have a four year old and a two year old to chase around our teen?
It was around Christmas. It was already a difficult time for me. I was no longer in control of my chronic anxiety and depression. I had taken a leave of absence from work. Seeing the positive pregnancy test was the silver lining to the rain clouds. Unfortunately, right before the Christmas holidays, I started bleeding. My obstetrician's office was closed for the holidays so I waited till after Christmas for my appointment. I spent most of the Christmas festivities at home on the couch or in bed. I was already in a dark place and this made it even more difficult to do those things that people expected of me. Christmas breakfast, dinner, and family visits were not important to me. I was suffering and no one really knew what was happening.
After Christmas, I had my doctor's appointment and my miscarriage was confirmed. Days dragged into months. It was recommended that I not try for another baby at that time due to my depression. I had trouble being around pregnant mothers and babies. It was a sad reminder to me of what I had lost. Suffering from depression only exacerbated my reactions.
Time passed and we were expecting our now four year old son in the autumn of 2012. At each turn of my pregnancy with my son, I was scared that I was lose my baby. After all, it had already happened once.
I am now the proud stepmom of a teen and two little ones. I have not forgotten my loss even though I never got to see my baby. Every loss is important. If you, or someone you know, has suffered an infant loss, let yourself grieve and heal. It takes time. I am still healing.
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