One of my life’s works it to keep Casey close by expanding my reach to families who have lost a baby. It’s hard to imagine that this year, Casey would be getting his learner’s permit and start driving!
This year, I’m starting a new book and a new page for couples who are having trouble with their relationships after their baby dies. I get so many letters from women asking, “Is it normal for my husband to act like nothing happened?” So many feel betrayed by the one person who seemed to have been as invested in the pregnancy as them, and this cuts the hardest.
It’s hard to explain that the law of relationships is at work here — only one person can fall apart at a time. And that they don’t intend to make you feel more alone. It’s just what happens.
The new page on Facebook is called Forever Innocent, which will be the title of the book I’m writing. There I will be listening to your stories. We’ll be helping each other. And hopefully, in the end, we’ll work together to make a book that will have the resonance of Baby Dust. While that book deals a lot with the loss itself, this new book, which has a couple reunite four years after losing their premature baby and walking away from each other, will be for those couples who have struggled with how to manage their love for each other when so much of it was caught up in the goal of building a family.
Go visit the page and leave your experiences! I can’t wait to talk to you all!
I never share private emails sent to me, but I occasionally post my responses with any identifying information taken out, in hopes that keywords will lead you to some answers.
This letter was to a young woman whose boyfriend left her after the miscarriage, and she lost her apartment and had to move back in with her parents until she got back on her feet.
This is so much to endure! I am so sorry you have to deal with this alone.
There is no way to put any sort of positive spin or silver lining on this. It’s just a horrible part of your life that can only test your endurance and your hope. Another sweet baby–gone. No one to hold on to you as you go through it.
At least you do have your parents’ home to go to, and perhaps you can surround yourself with little things that remind you of a simpler time, when you were a child, and did not have to go through all these hard times. A favorite dish maybe. A stuffed animal from when you were little. Try to remember what it was like to be innocent of all this, and then steadily work your way into looking forward to a better day ahead.
It sounds like a fresh start awaits you, with a new love, a new relationship, one that can only be better. And that baby that will hopefully be out there, when you are ready, and you and a doctor can sit down and go over everything happening in your body so you can get some answers.
Life has handed you a difficult period. It’s up to you to pull together every ounce of strength you have and get through it. I’ll send you everything I can spare–all the calming thoughts, love, and hugs.
Just do the best you can. It’s all anyone can ask of you.
I know this week is bittersweet for many of us. You’re here because at least one of your sweet babies didn’t make it into your arms.
Mother’s Day is forever a mixed blessing for me. My first one, just two weeks after losing Casey at 20 weeks gestation, was so terrible I have blotted it from my memory. And even now, 14 years later, I still feel the pull of emotions in both directions as I think of the babies I lost (Casey, Daniel, Emma) and the ones that I got to keep (Emily, Elizabeth), and now, the one we’re trying for (our friends call him Thor even though he doesn’t exist yet…)
I want each of you to remember that whether that baby is in your belly, in your arms, or in the sky—you’re still a mother. It doesn’t matter who recognizes it or who doesn’t—your baby most certainly does.
I’m kicking off a week of give aways! You can comment here or on the Facebook page for chances to win! Feel free to comment both places—I’ll be giving away items both here and at A Place for Our Angels.
The first give away is a new book of poetry about infertility, pregnancy, and loss that came out just a few weeks ago by Nicole Breit, called “I Can Make Life.” This collection was a finalist in the Mary Ballard Poetry Chapbook Prize this year.
Check it out below, or if that’s too small on your browser, click through to check it out bigger here!
All the mothers who win any of the give aways over the next few days will be notified on Mother’s Day this Sunday (if I remember! If not, on Monday.)
So many of you are in a tough place. Bleeding, cramping, worried about a miscarriage, and you can’t talk about it because sometimes no one even knows you are pregnant. Those hours where you wait for your doctor to call back, or the days waiting for test results or an appointment can be excruiating. I know. I’ve been there.
So to give you ladies in this place somewhere to go to get instant help, I created a private group on Facebook. People who are not members cannot see the posts in this group (and you have to be logged into Facebook to even see enough to join). We’ve left the name of the group and the description purposefully generic so that no one will know what the group is about.
In this place, you can talk to each other in the very intense few days between when you think you might be having a miscarriage and when you know for sure what is happening. Everyone gets a lot of attention and support and can compare symptoms and how their doctors are handling things.
I spent seven agonizing days after my water broke at 10 weeks waiting to find out if my baby was alive or not. I did nothing but cry and sleep and lie in bed, typing in web sites and looking for answers until my doctor would do a second sonogram to check for growth. You can read that whole story here.
I know this will be a very fluid group, as most of you will find out your baby is fine and will move back into pregnancy groups. But we do hope to provide quick support (we have women in many time zones). You’re much more likely to get a quick answer from me or one of the many women who are there right now, or have just been there.
I really wish such a group was never needed, that we all coasted through our pregnancies with nothing more than a little nausea and sleepiness. But you might have bleeding. Cramps might scare you. You might stop feeling the baby kick. And you’ll need someone to talk to. We’ll be there.
At this site you will find information and a place to come in your dark and frightened hours. The special features of the site are listed in the next column, as well as topics ranging from causes of miscarriage, to prevention, to when to try again for a new pregnancy.
The only person who can really tell you what is happening to you is your own doctor, who peers into you with a light and a speculum, who samples your blood or urine, or who presses a sonogram paddle into your belly. If you are in trouble, bleeding, scared, or more depressed than you think you can handle on your own, you must find help. Read and research all you can, but remember that the one-on-one assistance of a real doctor is the only thing that will give you answers that count. If you don't like or trust your doctor, then find one you can.