Pregnancy and Infant Loss Awareness Day

October 15 is always a bittersweet date for me. One that I dread but one that is also close to my heart. Pregnancy and Infant Loss Awareness Day. A day to grieve. A day to celebrate. A day to remember the babies I have lost, and commemorate the babies that play alongside mine in heaven.

My first loss occurred on August 27, 2005. I was on birth control pills at the time to control my wonky cycles. I had no idea that my pill had failed and that I was pregnant. I had been spotting for days and thought my period would be imminent. It wasn't until I had a bout of severe cramping and landed in the ER that I was notified there was a little life inside of me. My husband - then my fiancee - and I were surprised (more like shocked, as this was completely unplanned) yet elated. And then our happiness gave way to fright. I knew spotting and cramping were not typically symptoms of a healthy pregnancy. But we held onto the hope that God would perform a miracle. Unfortunately, just a week later, our little angel left earth at just 6 weeks gestation. While I didn't get much time with my precious embryo, I will always remember my first baby. My "Angel". After the loss of our first baby, my husband and I realized how much we really wanted a family and so we began actively trying for a new addition.

My second miscarriage happened almost two years later on July 9, 2007. My husband and I had been battling female-factor infertility since the previous miscarriage. I was diagnosed with ovulatory dysfunction and was placed on Clomid to regulate my cycles. Our first cycle was a bust but our second was successful. We saw those two pink lines and we were ecstatic. We waited with bated breath for our first ultrasound appointment and at 6w4d gestation, we saw our perfect little bean with its flickering heart. I had never seen anything so amazing in all my life. As the weeks went by, I gathered the courage to buy little trinkets here and there. I even went maternity clothes shopping since my pants were getting a bit too snug with all of the bloat. At 11w3d, I went to the bathroom (which was a frequent event!) and saw bright red blood on the T.P. I freaked out and called my husband, who came home from work to take me to the ER. It was there that we learned our baby, our Snowflake who was due in January, had passed. I don't think I have ever cried as much as I cried that day. Even my husband shed some tears and he is not one to show emotion often. It was horrifying to feel my baby slipping away from me and I was helpless to stop it.

I wanted to hold on so badly but I had to let go. I did not understand God's plan for us and I was even angry with Him. I questioned my faith and why He would allow this to happen not once, but twice. I went through each phase of grief: denial, anger, depression, bargaining, and finally - acceptance.

Fortunately for us, three months later, we were blessed with our "Sunshine", Nate. Our first, real live baby. We were one of the lucky ones. There are so many of my IF "cysters" out there still waiting in line for their happily ever after.

I lit a candle tonight for all of us who have lost children - in any stage of pregnancy and beyond. Failed IVFs. Miscarriages. Stillbirths. Infant death. All are tragedies, the pain of which I wish I could take away. My heart and my prayers are with you this evening and always.



RIP my sweet angels. I wish I could hold you both in my arms but I know I will get the chance to kiss your cheeks someday. You are so very missed.