Strike Three

Seems like just yesterday I was trying to find the words for this very same post...but actually it was almost exactly a year ago.

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This past weekend we suffered another loss.

My third failed pregnancy.

Our fifth sweet baby.

There just aren't words.

Never in my dreams did I think having another baby would be this hard...or this heartbreaking.

I was 13 weeks.

Past the point where most people stop worrying.

I think in my heart I knew...but I still had hope that it was just my fear from past experience getting the best of me, and that this was going to be different.

I even bought a few maternity shirts, just to prove how hopeful I was.

I returned them today.

*****

This experience was unlike the others.

It was physically, horribly painful.

And going through the pain, while coming to the horrifying realization of what's actually taking place, makes it unbearable.

*****

I have so many emotions right now.

I'm angry.

I'm sad.

I'm confused.

I'm disappointed.

I'm exhausted.

I'm overwhelmed.

I feel guilty.

I feel cheated.

.....

I guess that's all to be expected though.

*****

I also feel incredibly blessed to have such an amazing family to help pick up the pieces.

My parents couldn't be more wonderful.

They were here at 530am to stay with Taylor when I'd had enough and had to go to the ER.

They kept her happy and unknowing at their house until I was ready.

They picked up prescriptions, made us dinner, drove back and forth, and just made it easy for us to do what we had to do, no questions asked.

My sister came over in the midst of getting ready for 100+ people coming over to her house, to listen for a heartbeat, just to ease my mind. (This was after the first night...it wasn't there.)

Matt was up for two-straight sleepless nights with me...back and forth to the bathroom, helping me in and out of the bathtub, in and out of bed, getting me water, rubbing my back...anything he could do to make me feel better, he did.

I could not have made it through this past weekend without that support.

Absolutely...could. not.

I am so grateful.

*****

Taylor...she likes the idea of being a big sister.

We had a talk about what happened...I put it as delicately and as plainly as I could for a 2 1/2 year old to try to understand.

"Remember how mommy's tummy was sick?

Well, our baby was sick too...

it isn't in mommy's tummy anymore.

Our baby went to Heaven to live with Jesus!"

"Oh no...Daddy's baby, too??"

"Yes, honey...Daddy's baby, too."

"Where's my baby? I wanna see it."

"Well, we can't see it...remember, it went to Heaven."

"It's ok, mommy. It's ok."

*

Tonight she lifted up my shirt and was listening to my tummy with her stethoscope. She said the baby was in there and my tummy wasn't sick anymore.

Oh, sweet girl...how I wish that were true.

Thankfully she doesn't understand, and sadly she'll soon forget.

*****

And finally...

To my sweet angel baby,

I'm so sorry that I couldn't take care of you.

I'm sorry that I couldn't give you the life that I so badly wanted to give you.

Just know that we loved you and wanted you long before we knew of you.

We will think of you often, and we will love you forever.

I can't wait for the day that I can hold you and kiss you...it will come, sweet baby, I promise!

Lots of hugs and kisses.

Love,

Your mommy

♥