Our oldest son would have been 8 years old last month.
I carried him to a day shy of 39 weeks without complications, and then lost him without warning one night in an emergency C-section. It’s hard to believe that eight years have gone by since that terrible day.
Eight years…four younger siblings…so much life has happened since then. In a lot of ways, it feels like a lifetime ago and we’ve very much moved on from that awful place.
Other times though the pain is still somewhat fresh. It comes out of nowhere in waves, brought on by something that triggers a memory. That happens less and less as time goes on, but I think it will probably always be this way at least a little bit.
There are an absolutely heartbreaking number of women out there who share my story. I hear about them personally far too often. Before we lost our son, I had no idea just how common infant mortality in the United States is. We are lead to believe that once you’re past the proverbial 12-week mark, you’re good to go.
That’s why we don’t expect it when it happens to us. It comes as such a shock. Our world is sent reeling and we just never saw it coming.
One thing is for certain: the memory of the day our son quickly entered, and then exited, this world will always be very vivid in my mind. The grief, the uncertainty, all the questions – the feelings surrounding that day and the subsequent months will never leave me. And that’s why I feel compelled to write this.
For the expectant mother who has just very unexpectedly lost her baby, I write this for you. Continue Reading