Last Mother’s Day, my husband, our two children, and I attended a gathering where we met a family with four kids. My youngest, a spirited 8-year-old named Ethan, paused to gaze at them, a look of longing on his face. “That could have been our family,” he said softly.
As I fought back tears and pulled him into a comforting embrace, I realized he didn’t fully understand. He envisions two siblings missing from our family, representing the pregnancies I lost.
Ethan discovered our “missing kids” quite unexpectedly. My mother, a passionate genealogy enthusiast, often shares family history with my kids. During one visit, they spotted two additional “leaves” on my branch of the family tree, and the notations revealed the pregnancies I had lost.
My mother, taken aback, gently told them that two babies had begun to grow after my daughter was born, but sadly, they had not survived. And that talking about it makes Mommy and Daddy sad, which is why we hadn’t mentioned it before.
Even though it’s been a decade since my miscarriages, the sadness lingers. I’ve learned to navigate my feelings, and while the weight of grief has lightened, it still wraps around my heart, nudging me from time to time. Sometimes, the memory slips my mind; other times, it hits me unexpectedly, evoking deep sorrow.
The first loss occurred early in my first trimester. That little life, though tiny, was deeply cherished. My husband and I had longed for a second child, and when I became pregnant, we were thrilled. We envisioned a joyful life together, discussing names and preparing for our new addition. However, during a routine appointment, the doctor couldn’t find a heartbeat. I wept on the exam table, unprepared to say goodbye to that beloved child.
The second loss happened early in the second trimester. In the wake of the first miscarriage, we hesitated to fully embrace this pregnancy. Yet, when we heard the heartbeat at our 9-week check-up, our hearts soared. But by the next visit, there was silence. Once again, my body resisted letting go, clinging to that little one who, as we later learned, was a boy.
I haven’t shared all the details with my children; they don’t need to know yet. For now, they simply understand that there are two missing kids.
This realization particularly weighs on Ethan. Mother’s Day wasn’t his first mention of families with four children. He often brings up how we could have been a family of six. How do I explain that if those pregnancies had succeeded, he wouldn’t even be here? I choose not to; I just hold him close, letting the moment be one of shared grief.
This thought process is challenging. I feel a constant tug-of-war between my emotions. I mourn for the lost pregnancies—the two missing babies—yet I grapple with guilt because had either pregnancy progressed, I wouldn’t have my wonderful son. This sweet boy is a focal point of my life, and the cycle of sorrow and guilt can be overwhelming.
When those feelings become too heavy, I envision those lost pregnancies as my son. I like to think he fought to be part of our family, persevering until the timing was right. Now, he’s here, exactly where he belongs.
Ethan still expresses a desire for those missing kids. He asks if I plan to have another baby, offering to share his room for a boy (he clearly has no idea what that entails) and generously suggesting his sister’s room for a girl.
I simply embrace him and gently say, “Our family is perfect just the way it is.” And it truly is. With two children here on earth and two angels watching over us.
If you’re navigating similar experiences, you may find helpful insights by checking out this resource on IVF and fertility preservation. And for those considering home insemination, resources like Make A Mom can be invaluable. You can also find more content related to this topic at Intracervical Insemination.
Summary
This heartfelt narrative revolves around a mother’s experience with miscarriage and her efforts to explain the concept of loss to her children. She reflects on the emotional challenges of losing pregnancies while cherishing the family she has, emphasizing the bond she shares with her son and daughter. The story highlights the complexity of grief and the importance of navigating these feelings with honesty and care.