If you are new here today, this post is a part of a series on the topic of infant loss/miscarriage. Every Monday for the next three months, you’ll find another beautiful blogger lending her voice and peeling back the scab that is still tender and healing.
She does it to help with the healing of others. To show that they aren’t alone in this awful Club of Loss. But it’s a club filled with amazing women who have navigated the unfathomable and lived not only to tell about it, but to Glorify through it. It’s really a humbling experience to be a part of.
Beth Anne, or “Blair” as she writes in her blog, Heir to Blair, is awesome. We were Twitter friends.
Yes, I realize how completely lame that sounds. Get over it. Anyway, now we’re not Twitter friends. We’re Blissdom Buddies. Like Bosom Buddies, except with real bosoms.
For those of you who may not know, I just wanted to say that Beth Anne is TALL. And blonde. Which means that I should probably shoot daggers out of my eyes in her direction. Except that she’s really nice. And really funny. And really sweet. So the daggers stay hidden for now. ;)
I love how she describes herself: “A sweet Southern girl. Married 4+ years to a devilishly handsome man. Harrison est. October 14, 2009. Miscarriage survivor. Beating postpartum depression. Working mom that drinks entirely too much caffeine. Over-sharing extraordinaire. Hates celery & liars. Loves chocolate chip cookies & to-do lists. “Blair” is my pen name.”
The following are her words:
* * * *
Night after night, I sat down to my journal with a cup of tea, willing the words to come. Willing my heart to pour hope & grace onto the page as I spoke of the baby I lost. I wrote several drafts, only to scratch them out. I felt tongue-tied & humbled.
As I read back through my archives, this post struck a chord. In every way, it shows the absolute frustration I felt after my miscarriage. The utter heartbreak that shown through the “small” moments in life, bringing me to my knees in pain. Weeks & months & now even years after losing my first baby, I can still feel the sting of the miscarriage. It’s something that stays with me in the deep recesses of my heart, tucked away from anyone who could not possibly understand what it’s like to miss a child that you never knew.
As the days crawled by, my body did eventually heal. It physically moved & shaped to both accommodate pregnancy & “normal” life. Thankfully, my heart was able to heal past the hurt & frustration into simply being thankful for the little life we lost, knowing that someday, we will know him or her. For just as God knows the hairs on my head & the plans He has for me, I trust that this little life was not in vain.
December 4, 2008
I cried in a dressing room yesterday.
The Momma & I played hookie yesterday to decorate her house & Christmas shop — a tradition we began 13 years ago (& we’ve never skipped a year). The majority of the day was a blast — lattes at Starbucks, singing Christmas carols while we hung garlands & put out her Santa collection. Neither of us had begun Christmas shopping, so we took a few hours at the mall, where The Momma explained that she really needed me to pick out a few things for myself.
So we stopped into a few of my favorite stores. I bit my lip in Ann Taylor Loft — last time I was in there, I was looking for maternity jeans (to no avail). We moved into Talbots & I couldn’t get in the spirit. I felt listless looking through a stack of sweaters. It just felt…wrong. I grabbed a few skirts & went into the dressing room to try them on. They were all tight in the waist. I stared in confusion in the mirror…I’ve dropped the 3 lbs I gained with Harpie. Why on earth would it not fit? & then it hit me — my waist hasn’t shrunk back yet. My body spent 3 months preparing for a baby belly that never came.
And the tears pricked my eyes. I shouldn’t be doing this. I shouldn’t be shopping for regular clothes. I already bought my wardrobe for this winter — at Gap Maternity. Now I can’t wear maternity clothes. But I can’t fit into my regular clothes yet, either. & I have NOTHING to show for it. NOTHING. I sat in the dressing room, biting my lips & choking back sobs. Why do the weirdest things trigger the loss? Why on earth did a too-tight navy skirt practically bring me to my knees in pain & anger?
Three months of nausea, heartburn, exhaustion, elation, pure happiness…with nothing to show for it. & to get the baby I want, I have to go back & do it all over again. Sweet Jesus, I’ve been down the 1st Tri road. I was almost done. Now I am back at square one. That is what frustrates me the most.
* * * *
If you are new here, the next thing you should know is that in addition to hearing the stories of other women who have gone through this, we all band together and show our support and encouragement by raising funds to benefit the Now I Lay Me Down To Sleep Foundation. NILMDTS is a non-profit that provides professional portraiture to grieving parents in the NICU/PICU. Read more here.
The beautiful photography is free to families, but not free to run.
Please don’t feel overwhelmed by the thought of giving. Please know that any amount when added to the amounts of others is powerful.
If you can give even $1, please consider giving through the ChipIn widget below. All donations go directly to NILMDTS and not one cent is taken by me (Jeannett) or this site.
Honor a loved one in your life. Encourage a mama’s heart. It’s a good thing.