Tuesday, March 29, 2011

She wasn't a band-aid

I remember after losing my first baby almost 5 years ago having this desire to become pregnant again.
Then we found that that Emma Grace's pregnancy had been a partial molar pregnancy.
Then I was not only grieving the loss of my baby and dealing with possible cancer, but also being served a wait time until we could have another baby.
It felt like a cruel joke.
One that we made through, keeping our eyes on having another baby eventually.

Finally, I was pregnant again.
We lost that baby too.

After that I had a raging fire inside of me.
I didn't just want another baby, I had to have one.
I had to have a baby with every single fiber of my being.

This need was something beyond myself.
I remember feeling desperate.
My need for my baby was like a need to eat.

I thought, that if only I got to have a baby, a real, live baby that this desperation would go away.
So, I became pregnant again.
We lost the baby.

At this point, I was simply beside myself.
When I look back at that time in our lives I have no idea how we survived.

This was taken days after we found out we had lost the baby.
From the picture, I can tell that we are trying really hard to put on a happy face.

I see pictures of myself from then and I am a shell.
A shell of a person just trying desperately to survive.
To not hate myself and my body.

I felt as though my body had failed me.
It was made for this.
This is what made me a woman and I was failing at it.
I was failing and there was absolutely nothing that I could do about it.
I knew that this wasn't true, that my body and I hadn't failed, but it was such a hard feeling to shake.

So, after losing baby number three I became pregnant with baby number four.
I remember thinking that maybe this baby would stay.
I had had three miscarriages and didn't bad things happen in threes?
That must mean that this baby would stay.

I held such hope for this baby.
Clinging to those hcg and progesterone numbers.
Even when the bleeding started, I still held out hope.

My mom and I took Adison to visit my ailing Grandfather.
We had pulled into a resturant when my doctor's office called.
My numbers were going up, but they weren't doing what they should.
I had an u/s scheduled for the following Monday.

In my mind Monday was a goal that we could hopefully reach.
On Saturday morning, I awoke and the contractions started.
Then I knew.

After this miscarriage, my doctor decided to do some extra testing.
Everything came back as normal or inconclusive.
Less than comforting.

We were given the all clear to try to conceive again.
I got pregnant that first month.
I was immediatley put on progesterone and aspirin.
I expected to lose the baby but clung to hope.

The baby, later to be known as Ainsley, stayed in there.
I pinned my hope and what seemed like my very future on this child that the Lord had blessed us with.
As the weeks passed I started to think I might just get this baby.
That maybe I could hold it together.

I didn't really enjoy the pregnancy the way that I had wanted and hoped too.
Not because there was anything wrong, in fact, everything was perfect.
But with losing so many babies, I couldn't relax and believe that I might actually get one.

We made it to delivery at 39 weeks.
Even in the hospital I couldn't relax.
She was still inside and I felt terrified.

After delivery, I finally felt myself exhale.
I released that tension that had resided in my very soul for the last 2 years.

I had had my baby.
I healthy, live baby.
All would be right with the world again.

Or so I thought.
I had thought that a baby would be a band-aid.
That they would heal all of my hurts.
What a heaping load of responsibilty to place on one so tiny.
But heap it I did.

Eventuallly though, I came to realize some truth.
That nothing and no one would be able to take away all of that pain.
That it was unfair of me to expect my child to do that.
I learned what I should have known all along.
That while I trusted the Lord with everything else, I had held onto my pain like a security blanket.
I hadn't shared my burden with Him the way that I should have.
The way that He wanted me to.

So, slowly and painfully I gave that to Him too.
The way that I have tried to give everything else.
Because, while it was completely unrealistic for me to expect my child to this, I already knew the One that could do it with me.


  1. A beautiful and vulnerable post. I wish you love and healing. You are strong, more than you credit yourself for. Be proud of all you've fought for.

  2. Crying with you... Happy for little Ainsley.

  3. Great thoughts! I have never had a miscarriage, and always wonder what to say, how to help. Thank you for sharing this part of your life.

  4. Oh Danna..I can't even imagine the pain that you went through in this time in your life..and have decided that I NEED a magic wand to take away all of the pain in the world. Sigh.

    The worry, the anxiety, the hope and dreams - what a mix of emotions on TOP of your already crazy changing hormones. While so many (most? all?) mothers have these to BEGIN with - the stress you must have been under..it just..is virtually impossible to even try to understand. The strength, courage you've displayed..in both making it through this - as well as SHARING it - is just..mindblowing.

    I think that when we get so down in our lives, we look for those bandaids to try and heal us - it's just human nature to want to try and fill that gaping hole and try to make yourself feel better. Alas, it's hard to understand that when you're in the midst of your life being so crazy and topsy turvy what you need and what you want and what effects those things will have on you.

    I'm so happy that you were able to recognize your pain, as hard as it must have been...and find another way to relieve it besides a bandaid - because bandaids may cover up a wound, they need air to breathe to heal properly. And you're right - your beautiful little girl - she definitely didn't need to be a bandaid..she needed exactly what you're giving her..a safe, happy, carefree childhood. Which can be seen without a doubt through every Ainsley story and photo you share.

    This post made my heart break for you. I really didn't know what to say - because I know that no matter what I say..it will never be able to completely take away the pain and sorrow that losing these babies had on you...and more than anything I wish I could do that. They say that the struggles we have in life make us stronger - but I still wish you never had to go through things such as this. Regardless - I'm so happy that you posted it - because I got such a deeper view into a time in your life when you struggled, and were able to succeed, and come out of what was one of the worst (if not the worst?) times of your life into the wonderful person you are today. As hard as it was to write the words - and further yet..press that publish button.

    And on that note...I *SERIOUSLY* need a jet so that I can come and give you a hug.

    Soooo...I either need to win the lottery or marry rich. STAT.

    Sending you oh so much love - and commending your bravery for being able to post this. xoxoxoxo

  5. Wow Danna. I would be shedding tears now even if I wasn't hormonal. This is one of the most beautiful things I have ever read. Your faith really does just amaze me. Thank you so much for your friendship (and for watching my crazy boys this morning ;)) and your example of a true Christian.

  6. I have mentioned before that I had one miscarriage when I was 21 years old. I don't know how you got thru so many. Your strength and that of your husband and marriage amazes me. I am honored that you share you story with us and grateful that you come and read my blog and leave such supportive comments that both lift me up and encourage me. You are a wonderful person who only deserves happiness and joy. Now go hug those three beautiful girls!!

  7. I'm also crying with you. Thanks for sharing this. What a rough journey you've had and what beautiful blessings. I saw such devastation, but great strength in this post. I'll pray for you to continue healing. Janae

  8. Thank you for this post. I know you didn't write it for me but I feel like I can completely relate to your emotions, particularly about that need to get pregnant. I know that when I finally get my take home baby he or she will not be a band aid but I think I can honestly say I'm stuck in that phase of feeling like I just HAVE to get pregnant, like I'll never be okay until I can bring home a healthy baby. I know that isn't the case and I've felt really guilty about those feelings...I guess it just really helps to know that I'm not alone in that feeling and that hopefully I too will eventually get to a point where I'm okay again no matter the outcome. Thank you for sharing this.

  9. oh hun, I don't even have words. Such strength, such insight. Thank you for sharing.

  10. Oh my sweet friend... I would not have exhaled either. So many times it came so close to happening, and so many times you were robbed. That picture says it all. Your eyes give it away. It's hard to let go of that pain. Especially when you feel like it's been a part of you for so long. The fear and anger has a way of staying with you. I am glad you are learning to let go... <3 A big hug to you. Thank you for sharing this.

  11. This expresses the feelings so well. We lost our first and the doctor kept calling her and "it". My husband thought it was a girl from day one and had purchased a little lamb with a pink bow. We named her Emily Rose. Then our daughter was born the following year and she had double pneumonia and collapsed lungs. She survived and is now 12 years old. I miscarried again when she was 5. We believed him a son and named him Dalton Rodger. I don't think I can ever bring myself to try again.