Eloquent words on loss

Elizabeth, from Boy Crazy, recently posted some material so near and dear to my heart, that I feel compelled to share. She tells the story of her best friend Alison, whose firstborn child was born sleeping three years ago. I asked, and received, permission to cross-post, because Alison's words were so much more eloquent in expressing my feelings over our losses than I could ever hope to accomplish.

Elizabeth writes:
When she lost Annika, the people who helped her most were those "who were willing to sit in the dark pit of grief with me and didn't try to make it better, but rather shared my sorrow. I remember getting cards wishing me 'well' and 'better days ahead' and wanting to shred them. I didn't want to be better or feel better...I wanted to experience the depth of my sorrow...I think the best way to 'deal' with grief is to experience it for what it is. People who are willing to come alongside you during those times are the biggest gift, the only gift, in tragedy."
Source: http://www.clarity-chaos.com/2010/07/on-losing-baby.html

Finally, thank you to Glenda, for being that person for me.

Memory of a Lost Soul

I just wanted to take a moment to remember a lost soul. In June of 2007 I got my first positive pregnancy test. Chad and I had been trying since I went off birth control in January, and it took me until May just to get a period...so that first BFP (big fat positive) was a real blessing. I went to the the doctor to confirm my hCG hormone levels, and received the results while spending the weekend at Dana's family farm. That weekend I went fishing for the first time, and actually caught a fish! Needless to say, it was quite the happy weekend.

Sore boobs and a monsterous appitite abounded. I was a little nausious, but so long as I ate constantly it wasn't really too bad. My face glowed, and I found myself touching my stomach all the time, just thinking about what was growing in there. A few weeks later, I even got a peek. Baby had a healthy heartbeat and was growing on schedule. My official due date was March 4th, but I was hoping for a leap year baby. So around this time, we would have been celebrating said child's first birthday.

In late July I spent a weekend in Texas visiting my good friend Corey. We had a great weekend on the boat and just chillin. That Sunday morning I noticed I wasn't as hungry as usual and my boobs didn't hurt, but didn't think much of it. I had the tiniest little bit of blood, but assumed it was implantation blood. Still, I was horribly worried. Something just didn't feel right. Monday was fine. Tuesday I had another spot of blood and nearly flew to the doctor. Ultrasound confirmed my fears: my uterus was empty. My baby was gone. The miscarriage was one of the most emotionally draining and physically painful experiences I have ever had to indure. I wouldn't wish it on my worst enemy.