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Just 18 and married six months, we decided a baby would be fun. Off the Pill and quickly pregnant, we waited to miss two periods due to irregular cycles.
But at nine weeks, I started to bleed.
I Never Held You - Miscarriage, Grief, Healing and Recovery |
After sending my husband out to buy more sanitary pads, I passed my baby -- alone -- in the toilet. The doctor had said to save any tissue, so I scooped my tiny baby into a jar. It looked just like the pictures in the book.
I cried most of the night.
In the morning, I went to the hospital alone. The emergency room doctor examined me, and said I was too young to even know if I was pregnant. I left in tears . . . carrying my tiny jarred baby in my purse, unseen.
I later named this baby Christopher.
Nine months passed, with many late periods and all negative tests. My doctor suggested I might be losing a baby every month!
Finally a baby sparked once more! Thirteen and a half short weeks of hoping, loving, growing, ended bleeding again. Hemorrhaging, going into shock, my water broke as we entered the hospital. Through my fog, I heard someone say, She's losing twins.
My husband sat beside my bedside and cried.
I asked the doctor why I kept miscarrying and he said that the babies had been normal, I was just physically immature inside.
(But there are 14 year olds carrying to term!?)
I later named these babies Charlie and Sarah.
At last . . . two beautiful sons carried. I thought the worst was finally over. All the pain and tears, I'd paid my dues.
I named them Jason and Michael.
Trying Again: A Guide to Pregnancy After Miscarriage, Stillbirth, and Infant Loss |
Doubling over one day, in a cramping pain, I thought - strange, this period is ending. Why am I suddenly bleeding again? Was this period later than usual?
Another miscarriage, at seven weeks.
This baby I later named Neil.
Still confused over what had happened, six months later I had another chance. Seven weeks of plans and dreaming, bled down the toilet, along with my tears. The tiny body didn't pass for two more months. In a drive-in movie washroom, I said my good-byes.
This baby I later named Shauna.
Six long, empty years . . . grieving and in sorrow. I was hoping again. A special baby, conceived under the Christmas tree. But, after weeks of bleeding and tests, hoping and fears, pleading, why must you take this baby too?
A doctor took the last of my baby with a D & C. He said it was silly to cry. Many girls
lose babies, it's no big deal!
This baby I later named Rachael.
Months followed, grieving and weeping. I found it difficult to function or care. Did I have the courage to try one more time? Was there a live baby in my future?
After painful tests, I was declared normal, no physical reason found.
To help resolve my grief, I read many books, attended support meetings and started a miscarriage newsletter. I felt less alone.
I named my babies, and designed a baby ring necklace which I had made in white gold, each tiny ring engraved with the date of loss, in remembrance.
I kept a journal and wrote poetry.
Finally, I was ready to move on.
Empty Arms: Hope and Support for Those Who Have Suffered a Miscarriage, Stillbirth, or Tubal Pregnancy |
Vitamins, basal thermometers and timid love-making, my eighth pregnancy bloomed.
Months of cramps and premature labour.
Bed rest, boredom, anxiety and despair.
Visualizing, homeopathic remedies and positive thinking.
A planned home birth ends in a dramatic ambulance ride for fetal distress, a dropping heartbeat and meconium in the waters.
Born flat
, needing resuscitation, a beautiful baby boy entered the world and my heart.
I named him Joshua, which means one whom God has saved
.
Three hours later, at home in my own bed, baby snuggled in my arms.
I look at him in wonder, marvelling at his very existance.
That he survived - to nuzzle at my breast and share my life.
Six babies gone, never-to-be-know. It makes me realize just how special my three boys are.
Through these months and years, I have found new courage, a new belief in the sanctity of life and a stronger sense of love for the babies who have shared my life and the babies who share my soul.
Miscarriage poetry by Catherine McDiarmid-Watt - in memory of her 11 babies lost.
This article compliments of Born to Love.
Send questions, comments, and suggestions to: catherine@borntolove.com
Born to Love articles are written by Catherine McDiarmid-Watt
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Last updated - April 5, 2024
