Nothing drained the color out of my life like the loss of my baby. Sitting in that doctor’s office, I could see so many happy people and I was hurt and angry. How could this happen to me? My doctor explained that 1 in 4 pregnancies end in miscarriage. That day my child became 1 of the 4.
Grieving from miscarriage is different for everyone that has the unfortunate opportunity of experiencing this loss. When I lost my little one I took it very hard. I had made it through two previous pregnancies without any complications. I didn’t understand why this had happened to me. On my journey to healing I decided to give my little one a name. Today I will tell you why I decided to name the baby I never held.
From the moment I found out I was pregnant, I had a vision of my child. He was very real to me, even if he wasn’t born yet. I can close my eyes right now and remember seeing him move and hear his heart beat during my 12 week appointment. It was the one time I saw him alive. Seven years later, and I barely talk about him. I rarely look at the ultra sound pictures. It’s still that painful to me, and I feel like many people don’t understand that.
I didn’t have any signs that there was anything wrong with my pregnancy. I went into my regular 16 week check up and they couldn’t find his heart beat. The doctor said he has stopped growing two weeks prior and scheduled me for surgery. I cried for what felt like weeks, but I think it was only days. I honestly couldn’t tell you. Even when I went back to work, and back to my normal daily routine, I felt so broken.
It was difficult to explain to my two young children that there would be no baby. It was hard to tell my friends, family and co-workers that there would be no baby. It was really difficult for me when my friend unexpectedly found out she was pregnant shortly after. I had already begun buying baby things and they were still sitting in my house waiting for a baby that would never come home. I gave her all the things I had bought and started trying to talk to people who were close to me about my loss.
It helped to talk about what I was going through, but it felt so strange. It felt so unnaturally the way everyone spoke about miscarriage. They said things like “maybe he had something wrong with him”, “you can always have another baby later”, “everything happens for a reason”.
They might have been right, and they were trying their best, but honestly it just made things worse for me. I didn’t care what the reason was, I was angry! I also hated that to everyone else around me it was like my baby had never been a person. Pregnancy is not a condition!
I had lost someone I cared about, even if I never held his tiny hand or saw his little face. One evening I was home alone, crying hysterically out of hurt and anger. It was during this time I had a realization. I had to acknowledge his life. As short as it had been, he had existed. I had a list of names I had been working on, so I pulled it out and picked the perfect one.
Once he had a name it made it easier to talk about losing him. I also stopped saying I had a miscarriage. Everyone reacted differently, and some asked questions. I told them that it was easier for me to heal by giving him a name. I needed them to understand that I was grieving the loss of my child, not the end of a pregnancy. It wasn’t a magical cure for my grief, but being able to honor him made it easier for me.