Dear Oliver,

You are immensely cherished, and I believe the world should know just how special you are.

A Journey Begins

Let’s rewind a bit. About nine months ago, I was preparing for a work dinner in a hotel room in bustling New York City. On a whim, I decided to take a pregnancy test—just in case. After all, tackling forced networking is much easier with a glass (or two) of wine in hand. To my surprise, it was positive! Suddenly, I was facing the prospect of small talk in a whole new light.

While many might have felt overwhelmed at the thought of another little one, especially with a toddler and a baby already at home, I was filled with nothing but joy at the thought of you. I envisioned the three of you—Oliver, Emma, and Lucas—creating your own little sibling adventure. I was excited to see how seamlessly your dad, Jake, and I could bring you into our lives (or so I thought!). The idea of Deacon becoming your big brother and Emma flourishing in her role as an older sister made my heart swell with happiness.

Different Feelings

This was an entirely different feeling compared to my prior pregnancies. When I discovered I was expecting Emma, I felt a mix of shock and thrill—“Wow, I’m having a baby? How amazing!” With Lucas, it was more of a worry-laden “Can I really do this again?” But with you, it felt like fate. It was a beautiful opportunity to expand our family and fill it with even more love.

In the months that followed, I spent countless hours imagining who you would be and how our lives would change with you in it. I pictured you inheriting my green eyes (a trait neither of your siblings have). I imagined you embodying the strong-willed spirit of Emma combined with Lucas’s snuggly nature. I hoped you’d be the first of my children to sleep through the night without having to use a Magic Sleepsuit to save my sanity.

I dreamed of dressing you in the camo bunting we bought for winter strolls, sipping coffee while holding you on my lap, and reading stories as we awaited warmer days. I envisioned dropping you off at college—the last of my children to leave home—and being a blubbering mess while you looked at me with confusion. I dreamed of Lucas showering you with slobbery kisses in the hospital, just like Emma did when he was born (right before asking for my sandwich; she does love her food).

Moments to Cherish

For those four months, even though you hadn’t made your presence known in the usual boisterous way like your siblings, you were always in my heart. I loved you more with each passing day, especially after week 11 when my morning sickness subsided. Mother’s Day was particularly unforgettable—picnicking in the park with Emma and Lucas, feeling your presence as they piled on top of me, laughing. I’ll cherish that moment forever—it was one of the last before I had to say goodbye.

The Heartbreaking Diagnosis

On a fateful Monday morning, Dad and I took Emma with us to the doctor’s office to see a picture of you. We wanted to keep her guessing about whether you were a boy or a girl, even though we already knew. The excitement was palpable as we spoke about your heartbeat, which was perfect. However, we soon learned that some parts of you weren’t as they should be. Your arms and legs were abnormally small, and your rib cage was too tiny to support lung growth.

The diagnosis was devastating. The doctor explained that you had a condition that made your bones incredibly fragile, which meant you would have experienced pain if you had continued to grow inside me. Saying goodbye was the hardest thing I have ever done. I wish I had felt you kick more, that I had spent more time talking to you, sharing everything I wanted you to know.

A Story of Loss

This is the story of losing my second son, Oliver. After receiving a heart-wrenching diagnosis, we made the painful decision to end your suffering. I gave birth to you at the hospital, and it was heartbreaking to hold you in my arms, knowing you wouldn’t be coming home with us. We named you Oliver James, and though our time together was brief, I will forever treasure those moments.

This is also a story about advocating for myself. I faced challenges with medical professionals who didn’t understand my wishes, but I stood my ground. It’s a testament to the power of science, too. After you passed, we learned about the specific genetic mutation that caused your condition, which reassured us that it was a random occurrence and shouldn’t affect future pregnancies.

Finding Hope

On a broader note, this is a story about the complex emotional landscape of pregnancy loss. There’s no simple label for what happened, and it’s a deeply personal experience. It’s also about the incredible support from friends and family, and the shared connection with others who have faced similar heartbreak.

Ultimately, I hope to heal. Some days feel like two steps back for every step forward, and there are moments when I grapple with fear about the future. But mostly, I feel hopeful. I look forward to expanding my family and welcoming new joys into my life.

A Message for You

And so, this is a story for you, Oliver. While I cannot celebrate your birthday or witness your milestones, I will always carry you in my heart.

Resources for Others

For those interested in the journey of home insemination, there are great resources available, such as Make a Mom, which can guide you through the process. Additionally, the CDC offers valuable insights into infertility and pregnancy options.

Conclusion

In summary, this narrative captures the profound love and loss experienced when welcoming a child into the world, even if only for a short time. It emphasizes the importance of self-advocacy, the power of community, and the journey toward healing after unimaginable heartbreak.