forty-seven...

We Remember...
the babies born sleeping,
those we carried but never held,
those we held but could not take home,
those who came home but could not stay.

I lit candles, not only for my babies, but for the babies of women everywhere. For my friends, for my family.

If you, or someone you know, has had a miscarriage, a stillbirth or a lost baby or child, would you please either message me, or leave a comment here? I would like to personally pray for each of you by name. Our family prayed for you, as a group, but I would like to pray for you by name. If you named your baby/child, please leave his or her name as well.

 

This was a Facebook post I made on October 15th, Pregnancy and Infant Loss Awareness Day. I want to help shatter the silence. After I made this post, I started adding names to a list. I had a few women message me, or comment on the post, but I also added names of women that I knew to my list. To date, I have added 47, FORTY-SEVEN, names to my list.

I did a little research and my results were staggering:

• There are about 4.4 million confirmed pregnancies in the US every year
• 900,000 to 1 million of those end in pregnancy losses EVERY year
• More than 500,000 pregnancies each year end in miscarriage
• Approximately 26,000 end in stillbirth
• Approximately 19,000 end in infant death during the first month
• Approximately 39,000 end in infant death during the first year
• Approximately 1 in 4 pregnancies end in miscarriage; some estimates are as high as 1 in 3. If you include loss that occurs before a positive pregnancy test, some estimate that 40% of all conceptions result in loss.

(This information was found on hopeexchange(dot)com)

October is National Pregnancy and Infant Loss Awareness Month, I want to shatter the silence. I want to bring light to this taboo subject. Why is it so hard to talk about these losses? Women should not feel alone during the worst time of their life.

I am the face. I am 1 in 4. Many times over. I should not feel ashamed for speaking of my babies who are no longer with us. I should not have to worry that I will offend someone or make someone uncomfortable when I say Holden's name. They are my children, he is my son, just as much so as my six living children. I would never hesitate to tell anyone about my older son's accomplishments as a musician. I would never think twice about telling someone how proud I am of my oldest daughter, she graduated college and now has a full time job. I would never worry about telling a friend about my day with my younger children, or how funny and charming they are, or how much they are driving me crazy on any given day. Why should I have to filter my thoughts when mentioning Holden in the same way. Sure, he isn't here, and I don't have those same kinds of stories to tell about him, but I wish I did. I should be able to share with friends and family, and strangers, that I love him, and I miss him, and I wish he was here. Same goes for all of these other women who have experienced the same losses that I have. We love our babies and we just want to be able to share them with the ones we love. They are and always will be a huge part of our lives.

To you, it may seem like we are obsessing about our angel babies, but to us, it is all we have. Words, some hospital mementos, a few pictures, a teddy bear or a set of footprints might be all we have left of our precious little ones. Talking about them helps us to feel like they are still here with us. I have heard so many people say that they don't want to mention Holden's name for fear of making me sad. I promise you, you won't make me sad, I might cry or get emotional, but it won't make me sad. What makes me sad is the fear of others forgetting my precious boy. To others he may not have existed, but to me, and to my family, he does, and he always will. We may not be able to see him, but we feel his presence in so many things we do. We will live the rest of our lives without him, but remembering him in any way we can. We will honor him in things we do.

The other night, I was in my bible study small group and there were only 4 of us in attendance. In that group of 4 women, 3 of us had suffered at least one pregnancy loss. In the past year, I have learned about so many more women who have suffered in silence because they did not want to make anyone feel uncomfortable. Think about how sad that is for a minute. When you go through one of the hardest things you will ever go through, think about how you would feel if you had to walk through it alone. My first loss was over 21 years ago, my most recent being just this year. In the last 21 years, I have tried to be an advocate for women who have experienced loss. I have made countless friends through my losses, and my friendships with several old friends has deepened because of our losses.

1 in 4. Think about that number. Help me shatter the silence. No one should have to suffer in silence.

If you would like for me to add you to my prayer list, please message me or leave a comment here. I would be honored to pray for you.

one year ago...yesterday

One year ago yesterday, I found out I was once again expecting. To say I was shocked and surprised is an understatement. I was excited none the less. It had been 6 years since I had been pregnant last. I guess that would explain the range of emotions I had been experiencing that last week. I'm not sure why, but I was a bit nervous to tell my husband the news. That was short lived, as soon as I broke the news to him, he was immediately smiling and happy. He told me that he had come to the realization a long time ago that we would always have babies in our home, and it didn't really matter how they got here.

My entire pregnancy was a wild roller coaster ride of emotions. I was over the moon excited, followed by fear when I began to bleed early on, soon to be somewhat relieved when the bleeding stopped and everything was fine once again. Then we found out my precious little bundle was another sweet boy. I was able to start bonding with him on a different level, he had a name, a personality and we had a plan for him.

This next few months is going to be a different kind of emotion for me. I will begin to see memories pop up on social media. I have already started to feel the wrath of some of those memories. Today was a hard day. I am sure it won't start to ease up again until after his "birth" day rolls around.

This thing called grief is a hard pill to swallow, a hard road to travel, a lonely place to be. A lot has changed in my life this year. Some for the better, some not so much. I am not the same person I was before we lost Holden, I have come to realize that I will never again be that person. I think I am ok with that. The person I was before put too much emphasis on things that were not so important. The new me only lets in things that mean the most. The thing I do miss about the old me is the general feeling of happiness. That part of me has been replaced. I realize that I will never be 100% happy here on this earth again. I don't mean that to say that I am necessarily "unhappy" now, I just mean that a piece of me will always be missing while I am on this earth.

I had a friend recently say these words to me and she will never know how much they mean to me, and how much she means to me. I hope that she doesn't mind that I am sharing them here.

"You have so much love and Godly wisdom to share with the world. I am so proud of you for being the picture of a mother in all ways. I have learned that God uses the broken to build up others and you are an inspiration to me and so many more. One day when you have two seconds to breathe, you should write down your story and turn it into a book. There are so many women out there that could benefit from knowing that they are NOT alone on this island. You have been given wonderful gifts in your children, but that never takes away the pain and sting of those that would never have a chance to bless this world."

To hear someone that I admire, say those words to me was surreal. I don't see myself in that way at all. I see a broken down woman, barely able to keep her head above water. Sometimes not even wanting to get out of bed each day, much less having the energy to think about witnessing to or inspiring others.

This last year has been hard. This last year has been harder than hard. This last year has been absolute hell. The worst year of my life. To think that I might have been some sort of an inspiration to someone, even in my darkest time, says a lot to me. It reminds me that each of us has a job to do, no matter what we are going through, we are not alone. Someone is always watching us, watching how we handle things. It is our job to make sure what they are seeing is our best, even when we are at our worst.

I don't know why I lost my sweet boy, I may never know, or at least not until I am standing at the feet of God, but while I am still here, I will do my very best to do right by him, and by my Lord and Savior. I will not let his loss be in vain. I will be there for others as best I can be. I will spread all of the love I can. I will be the best person I can be, even on my darkest days. I will love on the women who have been through what I have. I will remember and honor my boy all the days of my life. I love you, Holden Zayne and I miss you so much it physically hurts. There's not a day that goes by that I don't think of you.