October is Pregnancy and Infant Loss Awareness month. Today, October 15, is the one day dedicated to honoring and remembering one in four pregnancies lost.
I am heartbroken.
I am heartbroken for the women who have hidden their miscarriages. I am heartbroken for the enormous amount of women hurting (publicly or privately) today and every day. I am heartbroken for my own loss.
This is something you never recover from.
It has been three months since I said goodbye to my little boy. I would be 31 weeks pregnant today. Just ask any mom. They know how old their baby is in this moment and in every moment.
Their world is shattered. Their life is missing a piece that should have never been taken. They continue to live while their baby does not.
I see pregnant bellies and newborn babies every day. I see positive pregnancy tests and birthday celebrations. I see my empty body and other empty bodies as we look on in jealousy and hurt at the women receiving their blessing.
The most gut-wrenching post to read is when a new mom says she would go through nine months of pain, exhaustion and nausea all over again because her precious newborn was so worth it.
I went through four months of pain, exhaustion and nausea. I have gone through three months of heartache and depression. I have two more months to face before my baby’s due date is upon me.
Let me tell you this… I would do it all over again.
I would go through the fear of finding out I was pregnant. I would go through the long days and even longer nights. I would go through the (ALL DAY) nausea and bathroom trips. I would go through my appointment on June 30. I would go through the diagnosis and heartbreak. I would go through the grief and tears and anger and pain all over again.
I would go through my pregnancy and loss all over again. I would have and not have my baby boy a million times over.
There are days where I wish I could wind back the clock and start over again. Not because I want the outcome to change, but because I want to cherish every moment over and over and over again.
My boy was never meant to be here with me. He served another purpose. One much bigger than Courtland or I could ever understand.
Some days July 7 feels like years ago, and other days July 7 feels like yesterday.
I know women who have experienced the same struggle of loss with the same grief and thoughts as me. I know they would also do it all over again just to have their angel.
So, today, as you are passing through life, take a moment to find the one in four. She may be sitting next to you at a stop light or a coffee shop. She may be the one you are married to or close friends with. She may be someone you know or someone you know of. Take a moment and pray for her. Pray for her heart and her strength. Remind her of how strong and beautiful she is.
She will never be the same and today is a reminder. Hug her and love her and support her. The angel looking down at her is the child she prayed for and nourished day in and day out.
For those of you lighting a candle in memory of the baby you love, please know I see you. I see you and I hurt for you. I hurt for us.
We are one in four.