Remember me..

October 15 is Pregnancy and Infant Loss Remembrance Day.  For those who have had miscarriages or lost an infant, they know this day well- including myself.

How ironic that just this past week Paul and I took a mini vacation in the area where we lost our first child!

A couple weeks ago Paul said it was time for us to run away for a couple days.  It was spur of the moment, and we needed it!  So we packed an overnight bag and headed for the mountains.  The closer we got to those beloved mountains the heavier my heart felt, and I didn't know why.  Then we passed a town in East Glacier and it hit me.

That was the Mexican restaurant Paul and I sat at after finding out..

I told Paul how overwhelmed I felt, and come to find out, he felt the same way.  So we talked about it.  Get it off of our chest.

I allowed myself to rethink the whole nightmare.

We decided to visit some church friends in the flathead valley for Memorial weekend.  I was 13 weeks pregnant.  Out of "the danger zone."  Because of that, Paul and I felt like we could be excited about our surprise baby.  So during our 4 hour trip we daydreamed about our new little family, talked about names,  wondered what he/she would look like..

Paul took hold of my hand and said, "Even though this wasn't planned, I'm excited. I love you."

24 hours later I went to the bathroom and noticed light pink blood.  I immediately felt sick.  I ran to find Paul and told him I was bleeding.  I saw the color drain from his face.  He grabbed my arms to calm me down and told me to call my mom.

I told my mom what was going on, and unfortunately couldn't give me words of hope.  She told me to lay down and they would pray for the baby's and my safety.  I laid down and Paul and all of our friends prayed for the baby.  Deep down I knew it wasn't going to help, it was too late, but I still believed in a miracle.

We went to bed, and the next morning I woke up to more pink blood.  Paul and I talked long and hard, and we finally decided to go to the ER to find out if our little one was ok.

The X-Ray technician lived in a completely different town so it took him 30-45 minutes to get to the hospital.  When we saw the ultrasound, I saw the beginnings of a little head and nose..  he/she was so tiny..

The technician didn't say a word through the whole thing.  When he was done, he got up, said good luck, and left.  Paul and I couldn't talk.. and if we did, we tried to reassure each other that God has everything under control.

The doctor finally came in after what seemed like hours, sat down, and simply said, "Your body is aborting the baby.  There's nothing we can do."

And that was that.  No sympathy.  No box of tissues.  Just the reassuring fact that I was aborting my own baby.

The doctor soon left and I had my first breakdown I've ever had in my life.

We left that night and headed home.  I couldn't be there anymore.  I needed to run away.

A year and a half later I ran back, and you know what?  I felt the last bit of closure I needed.  Daddy did too, as you can see..

Today I remember our first child.  Our child we named Charity because of the love that brought "her" into the world.

It took me a year, but I realized that though I felt very much deserted, God had everything under control- and look at us now!  Paul and I have a stronger marriage, he is even more my best friend then he was when I was 16.  And we now have a healthy, happy, beautiful baby girl, whom we love to death!

So today I remember what happened.  Though it was a terrible storm.. the rainbow is absolutely amazing.

To all of the women who have experience a miscarriage and/or infant loss, I'm thinking of you..