Infant Loss Awareness: God gives and takes away.

October 29th, 2018
October is Infant Loss Awareness Month. I remember learning that in October 2017, shortly after I lost Aden. This year, I realized that not only is my favorite month of the year Infant Loss Awareness Month, but my birthday is the actual Infant Loss Awareness Day, October 15.

I’ve long loved October. I love Fall. I love my birthday. In my younger years, I made my friends celebrate it for an entire month. I then shortened it down to a week by college. Only in my 30s did I decide I could manage just celebrating for a day, like all the normal people in the world. I love Halloween. I love pumpkins. I love leaves turning colors. I love everything about Fall, September, OCTOBER, November, and December. It’s the most amazing time of the year to me. I think I said a few months back, I survive January through August just to live during September through December…. so basically a quarter of my existence, I enjoy… which I is good enough I suppose. And so when I realized the new meaning of October in the past few years, I was happy to share such an important ‘awareness’ during my favorite season.

Long have I had a heart for women who experienced infertility or lost children, and once I became a mother, that heart deepened in ways I didn’t know it could. Once I experienced my first miscarriage, I understood in even deeper ways. And all along, all my life basically, I have known that my losses have set me up to be, perhaps, one of the few who are told they end up making others feel seen, validated, and truly comforted during their periods of immense loss or depression or suffering. I never asked to have this ‘gift,’ and I never once thought highly of myself that apparently I was able to do that. In fact, for years, I didn’t quite understand what people meant as honestly anything I ever said or did for others or to others seemingly came completely naturally. It wasn’t until I grew older and suffered more and more loss and realized how many people in the world handle loss or respond to loss in their own and other people’s lives, (aka avoiding it/pretending it isn’t there/NOT dealing with it, or worse…JUDGING it), that I realized that God had asked a select few to carry the burden of melancholy, of depression, of seeing the depth of the suffering in the world through a lens more like His than He gives to most of His children. I believe the ability to see such loss in the world is a gift that He spares so many of because, if we all saw the depth of the brokenness and bleakness of reality without the hope of redemption, the world would cease to function and thrive at all…

I have most of the time known that I have limitations in my ability to perform due to this ‘thorn’ in my flesh that most call weakness. In fact, many have called it weakness to my face, or passively I suppose- a fact of which I am not unaware, a fact against which I’ve spent too much time fighting to change, perhaps. I know who those people are who pity me and worry for me, and I hear as those who naturally and skillfully avoid dealing with pain and loss are called STRONG. “Megin will need to be taken care of. Megin is weak. Megin is dramatic. Megin is, gasp…sick. Maybe we should lock her up.”

I used to think I needed to prove my strength. No, let’s be honest. I fight against that NOW. I probably write this to prove my strength at least in partial… I write to prove it to myself. It’s only the past few years that I’ve started to realize that the fact that I am still here, still living, still seeking God and faith despite the depth of sorrow I’ve endured and been exposed to is actually a testimony to strength. So I’m not afraid that I will give way, for the most part. I more fear what others will do or how they will respond to me as I voice reality. As well, I just fear having to actually feel the depth of pain as it comes, especially without faithful BELIEVERS to endure with me (cue Galatians).

A year ago:

I wrote that I knew I would have to come up with new theology- something to account for the fact that I believe God knits babies together in our wombs, allows those babies to die, and still remains a God who makes no mistakes. Yet, as I had just learned, Aden, when knitted together in my womb, suffered from trisomy 15. He would more than likely never reach 40 weeks. If he did, he would be born to a life of suffering and not live that long. So what did that mean, that our perfect God gave the gift of life that was imperfect. Did He make mistakes? He couldn’t. Was He not good? He had to be good. So what did this mean? Why create a baby to die? I wrote back then that I believed by faith, my child’s life had meaning. And I meant that, but it was hard to feel that… to believe TRULY and feel it. Just last month, however, God had, after a year of sadness, anger, and the full gambit of emotions, brought me to a place where I truly FELT the following:

September 27th, 2018
A year ago, I found out he was a boy. When you lose your baby, you worry about what your baby felt. You doubt your own thoughts and if you should feel how you feel. You want to know you did everything perfect that you could to support that life. You can’t think of your baby as having something ‘’wrong’’ with him. Trisomy 15… wrong, right? But Aden? Perfect. How was he wrong? So what does that mean that God created him that way? What does it mean that God knits together babies that cannot experience life on earth. What is means is simply this: God is expressing reality- the reality of ‘’life,’’ of this world post-Fall. The world is tragic. We humans are mostly blinded to this reality about the tragic’ness’ of life. We want to believe that life is good. It must be- God called it good. He made us in His image. Why would He sustain something not good? But what if He sustains it with much patience, this ‘vessel of the world’ which is prepared filled with destruction, in order to make known the riches of His glory in that He redeems a remnant for another world to come- the world for which we were made in Adam and Eve- the world from which we fell…. the world which Christ secured for us… which is not yet here in its entirety.

We humans are blind. We are deceived. We think we have so much control. Even when we admit that we don’t have control, we actually live like we do have control and can influence things, when in reality, we have no control. The reality is life is aching all around us. Death is waiting everywhere. Even when knew life springs up and reflects the glory of God, there is death somewhere. We need to wake up because the world is headed to hell- for destruction, without the hope of GRACE. Only what is secured for eternity will be saved.

Through understanding this reality- through my losses, through getting this- I have a mission- a calling- to encourage others to open their eyes and to hold less tightly to the things of this world, things Solomon calls vanity- all fleeting (Ecclesiastes).

I was sad- Aden missed life. He missed the joy of learning to jump, of possibly loving hotdogs for no good reason the way Eli just loves hotdogs. He missed being thrilled at balloons. And it is true- those things are good, and watching children love them is the feeling of immense joy. BUT, it is incomprehensible how far short it falls from what real joy and beauty is in the life to come… in Heaven with the God we were made for. So while a year ago, I could not rejoice that Aden skipped all of life, learning to walk, learning to talk, getting married, having children, and went straight to God, today I actually am glad that He didn’t have to experience the pain of this life and got to go straight to God. Today I do believe he is blessed more than me, his mother. A year ago I wrote this type of thing by faith. Today I feel it. I would have loved Aden regardless of how broken his life was. And that reflects God because God loves us even as we are broken here in this world. And He bears with much patience this world as it groans for redemption.

I recall making the choice a year ago to ‘’feel’’ all these feelings and not find a way to numb them. And it has been so hard- and I’ve been angry and said things to God I never thought I’d say to Him- like telling Him how He failed me and didn’t protect me. And God responded. And I repented. And I’m having to learn to handle my emotions and figure out what to do with my feelings. And I guess that’s where I am.”

Those words were penned September 27th….and then September 29th… I found out… I was pregnant. I had written this the night before while waiting to find out; thus, I thought, “some things made sense…” It seemed I’d come to a good place regarding Aden, if only right before, and I’d been able to express my deepest anger and frustration and questions to God clearly and honestly. Interestingly enough, Jesse and I had just met with a specialist to have extra testing done to make sure everything was okay after our last miscarriage and with how long it was taking us to conceive. He is one of the top doctors in this field. I felt fancy and thankful our insurance covered him and that I lived in NYC. So we had a game plan of next steps to follow, and then wham- before we could finish all those steps, we found out we were pregnant. The doctor joked with us, “I scared you into getting pregnant I see.”

Still, I was guarding my heart. It was so soon. I went in multiple times in the next few weeks for bloodwork, monitoring of hormone levels, having ultrasounds- making sure everything looked okay. And my symptoms of pregnancy came on hard and strong. I was sick as a dog after about only a week and half of knowing. Our entire trip to Georgia this month was filled with me feeling so sick. And my night sweats because of all the excess estrogen were in full swing. I was sleeping only an hour at a time each night before I’d have to change clothes because of intense night sweats, a side effect that only a few women experience during pregnancy but for which there is no solution except wait it out until the second trimester when the hormone levels balance out.

We kept checking in with the doctor. I took all the vitamins I was supposed to- came off of any medicines I shouldn’t take while pregnant- immediately made sure my caffeine intake was under 200 mg a day. Family wanted to get excited, but I asked them to please keep their excitement at bay even though they were CONVINCED this was an answer to their prayer and this baby would make it to term. Little did they know.

Some family was respectful. Others were not. We told my family in Georgia because we were there right after finding out, and it was impossible to deny how sick and exhausted I was. My mother then announced it to a large crowd at the SC state fair. I later had to force her not to buy baby clothes for the ‘’girl” she KNEW we were having.

We told Jesse’s parents. But we didn’t really tell anyone else who didn’t need to know. We planned to wait. The fertility specialist wanted to monitor me until 8 weeks and then send me to a regular OBGYN.

At first, it was hard to be excited at all. I was really guarding my heart, but then I decided to choose life- to appreciate this life, like I had wanted to. Plus, Eli- who hears and understands all things, had heard us talking about the baby, and was already very excited- praying for the baby to grow bigger like Baby Elizabeth and Baby Logan- and kissing my tummy, and saying Hi to the baby. So sweet. He will make a wonderful older brother one day. He’s already a wonderful older brother.

About the time I made that decision (early last week), my nausea and night sweats vanished. Everyone assured me that symptoms come and go though, and not to worry. We’d seen the gestational sac via ultra sound, and it measured approximately the right size. Now we just needed to wait another week or so and do another ultra sound. I was scheduled for an ultra sound October 31st- when I’d be between 7.5 and 8.5 weeks.

REALITY
CHECK…then…came the bleeding. It started as very light brown spotting, which could easily be attributed to the placenta forming and embedding. But then, Saturday night, it turned to bleeding.

I lay down in bed. I’d been taking it easy already because of the spotting. By 3.a.m. that night, I was bleeding a lot. I woke up. I passed a large amount of tissue and then passed out from blood loss. We called the dr. on call who said that it was unlikely it was the baby and that it was probably just a large blood clot. Still, we were able to save the tissue so they could test it and look at it. I was unable to walk and lost my balance again. I was clammy- white as a ghost. My fingers were numb. My body tingled. Jesse had to carry me to bed and clean up the bathroom. It was hard to compose sentences. I knew this was not normal. I knew my baby was gone.

We spoke to the doctor who said I should rest in bed. We were given specific instructions about monitoring the blood loss and when to come to a hospital. I was not losing too much blood, so I was just to remain home. Apparently being unable to walk because of blood loss was NOT losing too much. The doctor on call thought perhaps I was lightheaded from seeing blood. Obviously she didn’t know me. I’ve seen my fair share of blood…. and I watched 2 live C-sections (thanks Buffie) which to this day were some of the most intriguing and amazing experiences…. and I got not one bit of woozy. My dizziness was not from seeing blood but from the amount I was LOSING.

Sunday came. We were supposed to go to church and a Halloween Carnival with Eli. I stayed home, trying at first to keep Eli myself because it’s hard for Jesse to pastor while parenting, but he was requiring too much assistance (potty training is no joke- neither is feeding him snacks-), so Jesse had to leave church after the sermon and come and get him and take him back to church. I wished Jesse could stay with me, but I wasn’t strong or emotionally/mentally healthy enough to know I mattered more than ‘’church.” I suppose Jesse was not either.

I stayed home, laying in the bed, continuing to bleed. Jesse took Eli to the carnival. I was so torn missing it- if I had miscarried, I should just go. It wouldn’t hurt anything, but if I hadn’t, I had to protect this new baby. Plus, something inside me didn’t feel as hopeless as I’d felt right before we found out about Aden. I felt like I knew a miscarriage was coming with Aden even though I didn’t have physical signs. This time, I had physical signs, but Scriptures seemed to reassure me, and my gut feeling reassured me… I felt this baby had life, but then, I also knew this baby was gone.

It was sad to miss Eli at the carnival during my FAVORITE season, but the doctor sounded hopeful as well, and I’d read many accounts about how passing clots is not uncommon and doesn’t mean miscarriage necessarily. Plus, I wasn’t having a severe amount of blood they said, and my cramping was mild.

I stayed in bed. And this morning we got up at 5:45 and went straight to the doctor so I could be checked. Even when the doctor came in, he assured me not to worry, that it didn’t necessarily mean miscarriage.

…he checked me, and the gestational sac was gone.

We rode the bus home. Jesse retrieved the tissue that we’d collected, and then returned to the doctor. He said he can test it to find out if indeed we did pass the baby in the tissue and what the cause for it was. I am thankful for modern medicine that can do that…. At this point, I’m hoping they can tell me it was a genetic abnormality again because I’m already hearing all the whispers of Satan about how it was the caffeine I drank, or not coming off a medicine fast enough, or choosing to vacuum my house last week…. or just that my womb is toxic… my old, 36 year old womb, past maternal age- the womb that screams, if you need an abortion, just give your embryo to Megin- she can kill babies…. you know- all those whispers. Satan, right? God doesn’t say those things, right?

REFLECTION ON LOSS:

Earlier this month, I had a friend lose her father. I’ve never lost my father, but I could predict all the emotions she must have been feeling because of the losses I have endured and because of the battles with God I have gone through. I offered her comfort. I thanked God for using my losses to make me someone who could love hurting people.

I also found out another dear friend suffered a miscarriage this month. I could understand her. I knew exactly the questions she’d be asking God…. a window into the soul of the hurting. I thanked God for that. I know people like me are needed…. because I often look for those who know exactly what I’m feeling…

Sadly, too often, I find people who just want to say “it wasn’t the right time. All in God’s time. It’s better off this way. The baby probably had something wrong.” or “Maybe God knew you couldn’t handle another.” I remembered when I lost Aden and the lady at church I respected so much compared my loss to when she ordered too much food at a restaurant and the waiter forgot her order but then she ended up not needing that food anyway. Sure, I had wanted a baby, but God knew better.

Such abuse. I wish I had known it was abuse when she said it, or been strong enough to tell her, “This is the most unhelpful and unhealthy thing you’ve ever said to me.”

Oh really? I want to say back: It wasn’t the time for a baby to live in me? Right…. but it was the time for me to experience another deep loss…. right after just experiencing a year of loss, and while raising a toddler and trying to plant a church? That’s right. You’re SOOOOO right… -_-

or

Oh really? Maybe I couldn’t handle another child? You’re right. Probably not. I can probably better handle having a second miscarriage! That’s easier to handle.

Here is a word of advice…. if you don’t know what to say to someone, don’t try to say something you ‘’think’’ will help. Just tell them how sorry you are. And then search your own soul for why you so desperately feel like you need an answer to justify pain. MAYBE, you’ve never accepted and wrestled with YOUR OWN PAIN, your own losses, the deaths in YOUR life. But don’t come up with a reason for the loss that trivializes it and encourages the desperate to get over it… because the truth is, the only reason there is for the loss is that this world is a broken, broken, place…. God owes us nothing, and we will continue to experience loss throughout this life. Yes, there will be time we experience life and blessing. But we will also experience countless losses, countless wrongs, countless humiliations. For no reason other than the fact that this is the world we are in… for now. So let’s allow space for people to sit in their loss and experience that pain… because it’s raw and real.

HOW I WILL PROCEED:

I’m not turning my back on God. Where else would I go? I still trust Him. I don’t know that He’ll ever give me another baby to carry to term and birth and I don’t know how long I’ll even try for that. He hasn’t promised me that I will bear children. He doesn’t owe me that. He doesn’t owe any of us anything. But I am thankful I have Eli. I am also thankful I could get pregnant and feel like grow in me. But don’t say that to me either. Don’t say “at least you could get pregnant,” because that won’t make it feel better either. I’m quite aware many women can’t even conceive… and that is a horrible, horrible loss in this broken world. But it’s not better than I can conceive and then lose babies. And healthy women who CANNOT conceive will affirm this even. If you’d like some educational material about infant loss and awareness and how to comfort those experiencing these losses, I’d be happy to share. Here is one place to start. It’s taught me a lot.

So here I am again… I will begin this mourning process… I’m not sure what it will look like or how long it will take. I’m not rushing it. And if there is one thing I learned from losing Aden, it’s that I asked too much of myself and thought I needed to get back to normal for the sake of others when I didn’t really need to get back to normal for the sake of others. Others can handle themselves. God can handle others. For now, I’m going to take time to be with God and my family and do what helps me survive this and figure out where to go from here and what God has from me from this point on…

It’s strange. I still don’t feel like this is a mistake- It feels like it was God’s plan. And I’ll accept that. God’s plans for people are a lot less rosy than we like to think in our fluffed up, conservative, legalistic Western culture. It only takes a look at the early church to rip that to shreds. This world is not our home… not where we find our meaning and purpose in things of this world or vestiges or missions. My identity is simply that I am a child of God that Jesus redeemed. That’s what I am. And my life is for Him to use as He sees fit.

I’m sure this has read harshly, and I hope you’ll grant me the grace to come across harsh this morning. I’ll continue updating as I learn- with whatever comes. If you want to follow feel free, but if the pain of following is too much, I’ll understand… because in all honesty, it’s much easier to walk through life without having our eyes open to the pain of reality of the depth of suffering that people face… and I don’t mean just myself here. I don’t face nearly a tinge of the amount of suffering of so many in this world. I invite you to take it in- to listen to the cries of people, and to venture through this world with them. None of us get out of here ‘’alive,’’ but we can get through if we listen to one another, learn from one another, and rely on one another. It’s in these times of new normals, of painful realities, that we have to find our friends and our family in the most unexpected places, in the faces of people who are comfortable embracing loss and then sitting with you through the mundane life and then enjoying the small joys that will temper the seasons of intense pain. If you are one of those people, up for that journey, I welcome your friendship. But please, let’s all keep it real.

LIFE DOESN’T COME WITH A TRIGGER WARNING, but I will give you one. Our child is pictured below, in our hands:

Do not scroll if you prefer NOT to see our child or if you will be tempted to judge us for taking a picture of him/her, although it is not graphic. I’m not looking to SHOCK. I’m looking to normalize reality and LIVE.

We were blessed to be able to catch the tissue and save it in a hygienic way as was suggested so it could be tested. This was our choice as a family. Eli saw it removed from the freezer and asked what it was. We told him it was something that would help us know what happened to the baby that Jesus took to heaven, that this was more than likely his brother or sister. This is our family. Our pictures don’t look the same as some families, but this is our reality, and not having to hide that helps ME heal. In all honesty, it would help you too.