Mom to Rowan
June 15th, 2011
My baby was taken too soon from us. From the moment our first son was conceived, we knew we wanted another baby less than two years apart. We wanted brothers who grew up as best friends. Or, a big brother who’d protect his little sister at any cost. We decided to start trying, again, in March. April came and my period arrived. May came. I waited and I waited. No period. I tested every single day. Negative every time. Finally, on May 21, I got the faintest pink line. I took another test two days later. That same day I took a digital and confirmed with a big, fat “YES+”. We were more than over-joyed.
We had names picked out if it were a boy or girl. We had the crib picked out. We were looking for a 3 bedroom house so our two little ones wouldn’t have to share a room. We announced to our families and they were so excited. And, every day, I’d wake up and wish my son and soon-to-be son or daughter a very good morning.
This is when things start to get blurry. I started spotting light pink blood. I thought nothing of it as I wasn’t cramping and I was still feeling very pregnant. The spotting continued. About 5 days later, I passed my precious baby with no warning. I was devastated. I took a picture to send to my husband as I wasn’t sure of what I was seeing. In the meantime, I was weeping and flushed the toilet, forgetting what I just had passed. This is the part that haunts me. I never got to give my dear baby a proper burial. I flushed him or her like a goldfish when it dies. I will never, ever forgive myself for that.
The following Thursday, I was sent for an ultrasound to confirm my suspicions. Sure enough, there was an empty sac. That little tiny black hole on the screen seemed to engulf me at that moment. I felt as though I was inside that black hole. Though this one was an enormous one leaving me empty and lifeless. The doctor sat us down and explained what we already knew. We lost our baby. Those words will never seem to lose the great emotion I felt that day when I heard them for the first time.
We decided that I’d miscarry naturally, if possible. Thankfully, God did spare me a little pain and allowed me to do so. I also decided to save the sac. That is the last piece of our baby I have and I’m not ready to let go.
I asked my husband and he agreed to name our baby in hopes of some closure. We chose the name Rowan Chroí (which is the Gaelic word for heart). Rowan will be forever in our hearts. I miss my baby more and more each day. When I see my son, I imagine him playing with his baby brother or sister. I imagine Rowan’s favorite color. The color of his or her hair, eyes, etc.
I long to have my baby back, if only for a moment to hold and express my love. I am so angry, hurt, sad… I don’t understand why God would take away our beautiful baby. We planned Rowan’s conception. We were waiting. Waiting for January 18, 2012 to arrive. But, on Tuesday, June 15, 2011, we lost our baby too soon.
How could a miscarriage happen to me? I wasn’t prepared for this. I had carried my son to 38 weeks with no complications. My water broke, went through a painful birth, and there he was! But, how?! There are women having abortions and giving up children for adoption. But, the child I wanted and already loved was taken from me. It’s not fair! It’s a sick and cruel thing. And, I’ll never forget.
Caitlyn blogs at http://mamawigglebottom.blogspot.com/
You can contact her at email@example.com