Friday, September 9, 2011


It is September 9th.
Three years ago today, I lost a baby.
Three years ago-

I didn't think it would happen. I didn't think it COULD happen. Losing Andrew seemed to be it. Though I was always fearful in all of my pregnancies after him, I somehow felt that losing Andrew had gained me something... perhaps the assurance that it wouldn't happen again- it couldn't happen again.

But it did.

It seems only natural that I would compare the two. We cried like we did with Andrew- lost our voices- crumbled to the floor. It was as if I was watching an old movie- of myself. I immediately went into the mindset that~ I had done this before. I had survived it once. I would do it again. And I did.


This was different.

There was something with Andrew that made it easier... He had a name. He had a body we held. And people saw him (albeit in me). They knew he existed- and in a sense they watched him grow. We were allowed to mourn him.

E was different. We saw a heartbeat three times, but hadn't let many in on our secret blessing. They hadn't watched E grow. They didn't know how I loved her and prayed for her and begged her to stay. My tears were mostly shared in our house -in the evenings. When everyone was in their own homes watching the evening news~ we were living our own tragedy. Grieving a child that was long out of the minds of those who knew she even existed.

No one really knew. And so when she was gone, nothing changed.
I wasn't showing, so my body didn't give me up.
I missed only a couple days of work.

And I was back again. Teaching young children~ all the while thinking they all made it... and I have had two now that haven't... How does that happen??

I was back again and it seemed I had fallen into the pattern of living too soon. Of course I thought every day that I should be pregnant, but felt that I couldn't really talk about that... You see, E was "Just a miscarriage". "Everyone has them."

But gosh it hurt.

I still have the notebook I wrote in that day at school as I taught my third graders. The one where I begged and pleaded for E to stay- please stay. Perhaps I knew what was happening and just wanted to hold on as long as I could. How I wished she'd hold on... But she didn't.

Three years later though, I know she is safe. With her big brother. Waiting for the day we are all reunited. And I like to think she is glad I remember- and so many of my friends did too. I like to think that she knows my love for her never died. That I think about her still- and share her with the world. In a sense she won't die, until I do.

Today is September 9th and again today I was in school and my mind often drifted back to that day- three years ago- remembering all that took place like it was just yesterday. But it wasn't just yesterday and I went through the motions. I gathered my first graders at the end of the day and we joined our school in tying wishes to balloons and letting them drift off to the heavens.

I didn't have a balloon.
I didn't need one.
My wish lives in heaven.
Waiting for me.

Happy Birthday sweet E. I didn't forget. I never will.


  1. Oh sending you love! Love for E, who is safe and in the place we all dream to be! You never forget and it's not "just a miscarriage". She was a life inside of you and very loved and wanted! Hugs my friend, I know it gets less hard as the years pass, but we always remember, always wonder. Always wonder what lost babies would've looked like, who they would've been, what their personalities would've been!

  2. I am so sorry that you had this experience twice. Even though there were differences between them, I agree that they are both incredibly painful. I work in a school as well and initially, it was really hard being around children. I like that you didn't need a wish balloon. Powerful writing.
    I too look forward to heaven.


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