When Are You Going to Have Kids??

"When are you going to have kids?"
This is a question that I have been asked more times than I can count; before we were able to get pregnant, during my m/c and even now, after just losing Lindsey due to IC and infection.
I never knew how insensitive this question was until we were struggling to get pregnant.  We have no fertility issues that we know of, I just wasn't as in-tune with my body back then and no one had ever explained to me "how to get pregnant".
I had spent one and a half years of our marriage trying to prevent pregnancy because we didn't want to have a child while still in college.  I wonder to this day if the BC caused my inability to get pregnant from when we started trying in May 2009-September 2010 or if I really just finally understood my body?

It was always hurtful when asked by family members, friends and even people I didn't know when we were planning on having kids and how many we would have.  I now know that you can't always plan on when you will have kids and especially on how many you will have.  Both are so dependent on my body's cooperation right now.  I am a planner and it bothers me that I can't control or plan the timeline or outcomes, but I can educate myself and prepare my body!
I do believe that people are just so uneducated about their own bodies and miscarriage that they just don't understand how common it is or how the body works in general and how complicated and delicate the process of pregnancy is.

Just yesterday, just barely over a month after we lost Lindsey, someone actually asked me this.  "So when are you guys going to have kids????"  She didn't know what had happened and that I have had 2 losses, but still, really?  Haven't we suffered enough?  Why do we have to go through a situation like that?  So of course I told her that I just lost my daughter last month so yeah…..  It was very strange actually, she changed the subject to herself and her kids and went on talking, laughing and smiling like nothing ever happened.  I just wanted to say "I just told you my daughter died and all you can do is talk about yourself?!".  I understand that it is awkward for people who don't understand what we are going through but all I want is to be comforted and listened to.  For some reason talking about it helps me.  I always want people to know that there was not anything wrong with my baby and that it was me.  It was my body that was messed up and let my little girl down and that I couldn't keep her safe.  I want everyone to know that she was perfect.  All of our children are perfect, beautiful and precious to us and we want to tell that to the world and we want to the world to remember them.

"When Are You Going to Have Kids??"
I just wish I could tell everyone about why this question is inappropriate to ask anyone and tell them how much pain it can cause.

1 Month

Today marks 1 month since the day Lindsey came into this world; the same day she grew her wings.
I wouldn't say the pain is easier.  Like I have heard many other women say, it's just different.  You somehow get better at dealing with the pain, but it is no duller or easier than it ever was.  Sometimes I think it hurts more?

She would have been 23 weeks yesterday if she were still safe inside of me.  I would be feeling her move around and watching my belly grow.  Lately, I have been remembering the days when I was pregnant with her.  I was so happy, so optimistic, so innocent, so hopeful…  I'm really not sure if I have even come close to feeling that happiness I felt when I was pregnant.  That scares me and makes me worry that I may never feel that same way again.  Everything was brighter and more beautiful when I felt that way.  I think now my happiness comes from keeping busy, getting things done and my DH.  I still laugh and smile but the joy I felt back then is just missing.

I think about it all less.  That makes me feel guilty, like I'm forgetting her, although I know I will never forget.  I keep busy and that keeps my mind from lingering on the pain and sadness.  I have no idea how the days have been going by so quickly.  Sometimes I'm thankful for that but other times I'm sad that the world just keeps on going, dragging me along with it even though my world and Lindsey's world has stopped.

The greatest joy in my life is my DH.  I would not smile and carry on every day if it weren't for him.  We cling to each other.  This has all brought us closer even though I didn't think that was possible but it seems every day we love each other a little more.

Lindsey,
I want to tell you how much we miss you.  We would do anything to have you back and give you the chance you so much deserve.  We thank you for all that you have done and all the joy you brought to our lives.  You have brought your Mommy and Daddy closer together.  You have given us the knowledge to give our future babies, your future brothers or sisters, a better chance at life than we could give you.  We will forever remember the happiness we felt when we met you and held you for the first time.  We are so proud of you, you were so strong and beautiful.  We will ever be grateful for you and we will always love you.  I know we will meet again someday.
Love Mom

Reminders

Those little reminders, you know what I'm talking about, those little things that just bring you back to thinking what was supposed to be.  The littlest thing can bring you back and remind you what was supposed to be happening in your life right now.

You were supposed to be so many weeks along today, your LO was supposed to be kicking and moving about safe in your belly, you were supposed to be planning the nursery, picking a name and it goes on and on.  We all do it, every major event that was planned during our pregnancy; weddings, family parties, holidays, birthdays, we all know how far along we would be, how big our bellies would likely be and what we would wear,  how old our baby was supposed to be for this or that and now we are just left at those events feeling empty and remembering what was supposed to be.   

Listening to someone else talk yesterday about their baby that is due at the same EDD as our Lindsey was supposed to be due just brought me back to a dark place.  They were talking about what they would do when the baby came, what their work schedules would be, who would watch the baby and more.  I felt like screaming.  You don't want to hear about other people's happy babies and pregnancies or hear brag stories about their children less than a month after you just lost yours.  Every child's face reminds me of hers, every child's cry or laugh makes me cringe inside.  It sounds selfish and I feel selfish and sometimes terrible for not caring about the happy parents and babies that are here on earth today but I really can't help it.  

It's almost been a month since the day I gave birth to our daughter, the same day she grew her wings….

I can just lay here for hours remembering the happiness I felt while being pregnant with her, when I had her in my life.  That happiness makes me cry now because I remember how confident I was that we would carry this baby to term.  It reminds me how naive and innocent I was to think that nothing else could possibly go wrong and that we were safe, that it was a sure thing.  It makes me sad that I will no longer "just enjoy" pregnancy, that I will live in fear every day during my next pregnancy.  

I cannot explain the pain.  It is deep, everlasting and always present.  Sometimes my strength shines through and I can smile, laugh and even be positive and hopeful.  Then one day when you aren't suspecting it, a little reminder creeps into your life and slaps you in the face, bringing you to your knees once again.  On the inside you are screaming but no one can hear and you cannot put the feeling into words because there are no words to describe how you are feeling.  They only see your smiling face, your dry eyes and your strength, but inside you are a mess.  Constantly asking yourself if you are choosing the right path, wondering what will happen next time and wondering if you can bare anymore pain.  

Somehow, you keep on going.  Sometimes on autopilot, sometimes you just lie in bed all day and sometimes you are optimistic and get out of bed to do the things you want to do.  Right now all I can do is keep busy, help the days and months pass by quickly, do my research, prepare my body and anything else I can think of to give our next child the best fighting chance.  

"None of us would part with a single one of our memories yet they are all so laced with pain. They need and desire to touch and hold our child again brings and ache that has no release."
                                                                       -Willis Day, Nathan & Rachel’s dad

Lindsey's Birthday - 5/24/11

I was on strict bed rest (SBR) ever since they had found I was dilated.  This meant that I was not able to get out of bed for any reason.  I was lying with my feet about 15 degrees higher than my head, trying to keep that bag of water in.  I did not argue, I knew that this was the best thing for our baby.  It was hard but I was willing to do it for at least the next 6 weeks, until we reached viability and more if I needed to.  I was in pain from my back aching, my muscles were so sore and they eventually put on leg compressors to keep my blood flowing so I had a lesser chance of getting a blood clot in my legs.  If I had to go to the bathroom, I had to use a bedpan.  I had a pad on because ever since they did a pelvic exam I had been bleeding constantly but every day it was decreasing.  I couldn’t take a shower so DH and the nurses had to wash me in bed, change my sheets with me still in bed and wash my hair in a little inflatable wash bin.  I had to learn to eat and drink in that position too.  It was not as challenging as I had thought it would be.  

I did all of this without complaining, without anger and with a lot of patience.   I found a new side to myself that week.  I was kind, friendly, hopeful, patient and thankful.  I never once raised my voice or got angry with DH or a nurse.  I was just always so thankful for what they were doing for my baby and I.   I am not generally a very patient person and I am usually pretty sarcastic but these events just softened me.  

There were times when we had hope.  We kept hope alive, maybe for our own sanity?  We couldn’t come to terms with what the doctors and nurses had subtly been telling us; that we were going to deliver this baby too early.  They told us many times that there was less than a 10% chance of me not going into labor.  The infection in my uterus would likely cause my water to break and cause me to go into labor. The other possibility, which I really dreaded, was that they may have to induce me if my infection got too bad.  They kept telling us, as the days went by, that they were surprised I hadn’t gone into labor yet.  I was fighting, I am a fighter and so was Lindsey.  

We talked about what it would be like to have me at home on SBR for so many more months and how we would handle it.  One nurse tried to find out what our wishes were once the baby was born, would we want to hold it?  Should they call the Haven Network to take pictures?  We were in denial and I was trying to separate myself.  The nurse asked us when it was late, I think I had already taken an Ambien and don’t even remember the conversation really.  Apparently, as I learned later, we originally told her that we didn’t want to see the baby or take pictures.  I don’t remember that but everyone else kept bringing up that fact after everything was over.  This irritates me because I don't remember telling the nurses this.  I do remember telling my DH this when I initially got the news but I think that was normal to want to protect yourself and separate yourself from the events that were taking place.    

Monday came, my wbc count wasn’t really going down anymore.  It had went back up to 15,000.  My doctor came and saw us, again giving us hope saying she was going to talk to the high risk doctor and possibly get a cerclage scheduled.  A few hours went by and then my doctor called us on the phone to tell us there was no hope.  She actually told me "I'm hoping you go into labor soon".  She didn't explain what was happening very well and all I remember hearing is that my baby was going to die.  

I was hysterical and a nurse had to come in to calm me down and offer reassurance that there was still hope.  Now, I think that she was just trying to keep me positive and not let me get hysterical or depressed.  My temperature slowly went up all day.  I had a headache.  In the evening, between 8-10pm I slowly got worse.  The infection started to take over.  I was sweating and had chills.  The nurses took my temperature for the last time and it was 102 I think.

I went back to L&D and had a pelvic exam.  They said the baby was definitely coming now.  My DH called my mom and sisters and his parents to come see the baby for the little time she would be with us.  The nurses called the Haven Network.  I had taken an Ambien already thinking I was going to sleep.  I asked for something for the pain, I didn't know how much pain I would have but some of the doctors I had seen before had said I could have one when the time came.  Now, my doctor just stared at me like I was insane for asking and then finally agreed to dilaudid.  They only gave me a small amount to begin with but eventually had to increase it because of the pain I was in.  

Our precious Lindsey was born around 1:20am.  They told me she would just come out, just like that but it actually took me at least an hour of pushing before she was born.  I didn't have pain during the delivery but it did take a lot of effort.  The doctor was silent when she was born so we didn't know right away, the doctor issues we had are another story which I will address later.  The nurse took her and cleaned her up.  I was anxious to see her but the doctor was concentrated on getting the placenta out.  It was still partially attached so they needed to wait to see if it would come out otherwise I would have to have a d&c.  

When the handed me my daughter, all I could do was smile.  She was so perfect, so little and she was our baby.  I remember feeling this indescribable sense of love and pride.  I remember those feelings when I start missing her and it always makes me smile.  I always wondered what it would feel like to hold our baby in my arms but I never thought I would find out this soon…  

The nurse came in and tried to pull the cord to see if it was looser and would come out, but she broke the cord and it went back inside of me.  The doctor was furious.  This began the pain, they tried to use a spectrum that was too big, making me squirm in pain.  It felt like they had inserted a knife into me.  The doctor found a smaller one and then I have no idea what she was doing but whatever it was felt like she was trying to do a d&c right there in L&D.  I began crying and whining that it hurt too much.  I seriously considered kicking the doctor to make her stop.  The nurse asked if she could give me more dilaudid and when she did I was able to sit a little more still.  It still hurt but it helped me relax.  DH was holding my hand and trying to help me hold onto Lindsey.  I was so concerned about dropping her.  The placenta eventually came out after they administered some kind of meds.  

My DH and I watched our little girl's strong heartbeat beat for two hours and ten minutes.  She tried to move her mouth twice, maybe trying to breath?  We were amazed at how long she continued to fight.  We were so proud of her for being so strong.  The nurse confirmed that she was perfect and well developed for her very young age.  We looked over her tiny body, her 10 fingers and 10 toes, her tiny nose, lips and ears.  We held her, kissed her, talked to and cuddled her until her little heart stopped beating.  We wanted her to feel our love and I like to think that she did.  

Our parents came in and took turns holding her.  The Haven Network took beautiful pictures that I cherish to this day.  Once everyone left and we were alone again, DH and I held her for about another hour before saying goodbye to her for the last time and handing her over to the nurse.  I hate remembering that moment, of leaving my little girl.  I would do anything to have more time with her and hold her once again.  

At the Hospital

At the Hospital

(May 19, 2011) At the ER I was taken back fairly quickly.  I was allowed to get up, use the restroom; I gave a urine sample and waited for the doctor.  My heart rate was high, DH noticed this and I thought, well I am very nervous.  The ER doctor didn't examine me.  He reassured me that everything was likely fine but that my OB said to bring me up to L&D, the ER doctor seemed to think this wasn’t necessary but they transferred me anyway.  I was transferred up to L&D in bed.  I wonder now if maybe they did have an idea of what was happening to me but didn’t want to tell me just yet. 

At L&D, they got me settled and explained they needed to do a pelvic exam and do a few cultures.  The nurse silently did a quick exam with a speculum that was far too big, and then grimly stated “you are dilated, at least 2-3cm I would say”.  I could tell by the look on her face that it was bad.  I was numb at first then completely broke down.  Holding my DH, I was in tears and telling him “that I couldn’t do this again”.  I meant, I couldn’t lose another baby.  The nurse also told us that my bag of water was bulging into my cervix and that she could see it.  She quickly put my bed back so that my feet were higher than my head, hoping the bag of water would go back inside. 

They drew my blood.  My white blood cell count was 19,000.  The normal level, we were told, for a pregnant woman should be no higher than 11,000.  I had an infection.  The question later would be: did that infection cause my cervix to dilate or did the dilation of my cervix cause the infection?  There was no way to tell how long my cervix had actually been open, allowing the passage of bacteria from my vagina into that sterile environment that held our precious baby.  I felt guilty and stupid and completely devastated.  What if I had an infection that caused all of this to happen?  Why didn’t I call or come in when I first noticed the symptoms?  I kept running scenarios through my head, trying to remember if I did have any other symptoms.  

Whether they meant to or not, the doctors made me feel like it was my fault at first.  Why didn’t I call?  Did you notice an infection?  No, I didn’t notice an infection.  I had read about what kinds of infections could cause your cervix to dilate, but I had noticed none of the symptoms the article said to watch for.  To this day I try to remember if I had any symptoms that I may have overlooked.  Was the discharge I was having all normal?  They said to watch for “smelly” discharge, but to a me, everything smelled disgusting, even my own body and even soap!!  So no, I didn’t notice anything out of the ordinary.  Still, I cannot help but continue to wonder, "what if".  

Different doctors came in each day.  Giving me hope and then taking it away.  The second day, Friday 5/20/11, the high risk perinatologist came in and said I had dilated more and that the baby’s head was in my cervix.  I didn’t realize until Monday that when she told me this, she was also telling me that there was nothing they could do.  At first, I was told that if my wbc count went down they could do a cerclage.  Even with the cerclage, they said there was about a 50% chance of my water breaking from the procedure.  I said that it was a risk I was willing to take rather than wait for the bag to break on it’s own with no hope in saving our baby.  I was only 18 weeks that Thursday when I came in and was told 24 weeks was the viability cutoff.  I quickly realized that I needed to make it 6 more weeks to give my baby a fighting chance.  I was put on a monitor to ensure that I wasn’t having contractions or going into labor.  

My DH didn’t sleep at all Thursday night.  They gave me an Ambien so I did sleep, a little.  I remember waking up in pain, having contractions during the night.  My DH probably remembers this night more clearly that I do.  I just remember holding his hand as the pain rose and fell and then I would return to sleeping.  I don't remember that night well.  These were the last contractions I would ever feel during this pregnancy.

That Friday morning my wbc count went down to 15,000 from 19,000.  We celebrated but also knew it had to get down to at least 13,000 before the Dr. would do the cerclage.  My days consisted of sleeping, taking pills, having my blood taken, being bathed in bed and trying to do something to occupy my mind. My back hurt a lot, until they eventually brought me a egg carton mattress that somehow helped tremendously.  I would have done anything to keep our little girl inside of me as long as possible.  

The next day, Saturday, my wbc count was down to 13,000.  Sunday it was back up to 15,000.  I cried when I heard that.  To me, that meant the infection wasn’t going away and I  think I knew deep down that now we were only waiting for the inevitable, for my temp to go up forcing the doctors to induce me or for my water to break.  I was already on 2 antibiotics, amp and gent.  My temperature was good until that Sunday.  100.4F was considered to be a dangerous temp for me, it was in the 97 or 98 degree range before Sunday.  On Sunday it was going up to the high 98s and low 99s.  This worried me.  They began doing oral temps instead of the one they swipe over your forehead to get lower and more accurate readings.  We were able to hear our LO’s heartbeat at least two times per day and even more if we requested it.  Her heartbeat was generally 150-170’s.  Sunday it was going up to 170’s more often.  

I was so scared and I know my DH was likely even more scared than I was.  

Signs of Trouble - My Story - Part II

The First Signs of Trouble

I didn’t realize that anything was wrong.  That is the thing I beat myself up about the most.  I should have known.  I should have asked.  Now, I feel like I ignored the symptoms and I keep telling myself that I knew something was wrong….why didn't I do anything??  Those thoughts are enough to make you crazy.  Maybe if I would have done something I would still be carrying her, she may still be with us. 

I felt a heaviness in my lower abdomen.  When I had to pee it was more noticeable but after I did pee, I felt relief so just passed it off as my bladder being full.  When I went from sitting to standing is when it was most noticeable but again, I usually only noticed it when I was getting up to pee. 

It Wednesday May 18^th 2011 when I was working from 3pm-11pm that I noticed something different but didn’t realize it was a life-threatening symptom. I had been working part time for the most part and my work pants and belt had been getting so tight I could barely button them any longer so when I noticed a tightness in my abdomen I just unbuttoned my pants and belt and felt some relief. 

The dull achiness I was feeling I wrote off to be more growing pains.  I had been having sharp pains, dull pains, pulling pains; you name it, the whole pregnancy.  I had just been reading the other day that the baby would be doubling in size over the next few weeks and to expect some lower abdomen pain.  Now, I keep telling myself, “you should have known it wasn’t normal”.  I also had some cramping during the day that Wednesday, again just like menstrual cramps but nothing that I was concerned about since I had been having cramps the entire pregnancy.  I just remember it as feeling crampy that day.  I had an increase in discharge and a little dark red blood when I went to the bathroom earlier that day.  Generally, when I did have a BM I also had increased vaginal discharge, so I wrote that off of being the cause.  The achiness came and went that evening and came again once more when I returned home.  After laying down all night and the next morning I relaxed all day before going into work again that Thursday night.  I had no pain that I can recall while I was resting.  I recall looking up mucus plugs on my forum after reading about another girl in my birth club who dilated and gave birth to her baby too early.  I determined I have had no discharge like that and felt satisfied that I was fine.  

At work Thursday night I felt that heaviness again.  I again went to empty my bladder and when I wiped I had a giant glob of mucus – grey, white and red in color.  I began shaking as I realized this was likely my mucus plug.  Still in the bathroom, I immediately called my doctor’s office.  They had to page the doctor and I anxiously waited in the work office after telling my DH (we work together) that we may need to go to the ER.  She asked me a series of questions; did you have sex in the last 24 hours? No.  Do you have cramps? Not really, nothing that I think is abnormal. I couldn't think of how to describe the feeling I felt.  I came up with "heaviness" only after I got home and started doing research.  A light came on when I read the symptoms for IC and heaviness was exactly how I would have described it.  Then she told me I could either come in tonight to the ER or wait till morning and go in to her office.  DH and I quickly decided to go to the ER. 

I was numb.  I was so scared, there were no words.  I didn’t think, I didn’t talk and I didn’t know what to do.  I never could have imagined the horror that was going to follow over the next week.  

My Story - Part I

Part I

My Story

After our first loss, a first trimester miscarriage, we were reassured that the next pregnancy should go perfectly.  We had 6, 8, 10 and 15 week appointments where we got to see our baby on an u/s the first three times and got to hear her strong heartbeat all four times.  Everything was perfect, she was developing perfectly, my body was changing the way it should and we were encouraged that things were progressing as planned.  To say the least, we were ecstatic that we would be bringing a baby into the world, October 2011, right around my birthday.  Our joy of the thought of this was indescribable; we were going to be parents. 

I thought I had reached the point where everything would go perfectly here on out.  I had no idea of what dangers lurked in the background.  We picked out a bedroom for our nursery and talked about what colors it would be, we looked at cribs, dressers and gliders that we would use to rock our baby to sleep someday.  Every event that was planned from now until October, I thought about how fun it would be to go pregnant; weddings, showers, family get togethers and more.  I celebrated with the thought of having our baby with us over the holidays; Thanksgiving, Christmas and New Years.  My DH and I were already talking about the vacations the three of us would go on that next summer.  We had so many hopes and dreams.

I had every symptom in the book: nausea, vomiting, fatigue, heartburn, a repulsion to almost all smells, headaches and everything else they tell you that you could develop.  My doctors reassured me that all of these symptoms I was feeling was a sign of a healthy baby developing so I gladly took on all of them.  I spent 2 weeks lying on the couch, barely eating because the vomiting was so bad.  I eventually went on a generic form of Zofran after many objections from my DH.  He wanted to keep our LO safe and free from medications but the doctor reassured us that we were putting our LO at more of risk by me not keeping food down than taking medication.  My vomiting and nausea didn’t cease until about 15 weeks.  I had a baby bump around 16 weeks that I was just so proud of.  That was the first noticeable physical sign of my pregnancy that the rest of the world could see.  I was just waiting to feel my LO move.  Every time I was still I was waiting to feel the movements.  I’m not sure I ever got to feel that magical feeling…

Please Don't Tell Them
You Never Got to Know Me
It is I whose kicks you will always remember.
I who gave you heartburn that a dragon would envy,
I who couldn't seem to tell time and got your days and nights mixed up.
It is I who acknowledged your craving for peach ice cream by
knocking the cold bowl off your belly,
I who went shopping and helped you pick out the "perfect" teddy bear for me,
I who liked to be cradled in your belly and rocked off to
dreamy slumber by the fire,
It is I who never had a doubt about your love,
It is I who was able to put a lifetime of joy into an instant
~Pat Schwiebert

When Darkness Falls

The Nights

 I don’t know about you, but for me the darkest times are when the sun goes down.  I’m not even really sure why but it has been happening since the day I lost my daughter, Lindsey.  Every day, before the sun sets I wonder if the nightly pain will ever begin to fade or disappear completely.  No matter where I am or what I am doing my mind begins playing and replaying the events that occurred over the last four and a half months.  I literally shake my head some days, trying to get myself to focus on whatever it is that I’m doing; watching a movie or TV, reading a book, shopping, painting, and the list goes on. 

When I am lying in the darkness in bed, trying so desperately to fall asleep because sleep is the only time I get any real relief from the pain, when I’m lying in bed at night, that’s when it’s the worst.  Sometimes I remember the happy times and smile but then my mind gradually comes back to the present where I am no longer pregnant, my little girl no longer has a chance and where I am utterly devastated and lost.  There is no comfort for the pain.  Yes, I can have more children, well they think so anyway.  I do have a loving DH, family, a beautiful house and a good job but there is an empty place where my daughter should be. 

I was given sleep aides while in the hospital, before and after her birth.  It gently brought me to sleep and helped me feel a little rested.  I can’t remember the last time I woke up feeling refreshed, I’ve been waking up exhausted since that day.  At home I have been using Advil PM, taking 2 every night before I try to fall asleep.  It has just enough in it to get my already exhausted body to sleep.  I’ve tried not taking it but I just lay there exhausted but wide awake, thoughts and pictures of the horror that unfolded within that week of May ending with the loss of our Lindsey.  

What We Wish Everyone Knew About Pregnancy Loss

What we wish you knew about pregnancy loss: 

A letter from women to their friends and family
by Elizabeth Soutter Schwarzer
I assert no copyright for the material. Please use it as you see fit to help women who have endured this terrible grief. Thank you. 

Date: Mar 2002

When women experience the loss of a child, one of the first things they discover they have in common is a list of things they wish no one had ever said to them. The lists tend to be remarkably similar. The comments are rarely malicious - just misguided attempts to soothe.

This list was compiled as a way of helping other people understand pregnancy loss. While generated by mothers for mothers, it may also apply similarly to the fathers who have endured this loss.
When trying to help a woman who has lost a baby, the best rule of thumb is a matter of manners: don't offer your personal opinion of her life, her choices, her prospects for children. No woman is looking to poll her acquaintances for their opinions on why it happened or how she should cope.

-Don't say, "It's God's Will." Even if we are members of the same congregation, unless you are a cleric and I am seeking your spiritual counseling, please don't presume to tell me what God wants for me. Besides, many terrible things are God's Will, that doesn't make them less terrible.

-Don't say, "It was for the best - there was probably something wrong with your baby." The fact that something was wrong with the baby is what is making me so sad. My poor baby never had a chance. Please don't try to comfort me by pointing that out.

-Don't say, "You can always have another one." This baby was never disposable. If had been given the choice between loosing this child or stabbing my eye out with a fork, I would have said, "Where's the fork?" I would have died for this baby, just as you would die for your children.

-Don't say, "Be grateful for the children you have." If your mother died in a terrible wreck and you grieved, would that make you less grateful to have your father?

-Don't say, "Thank God you lost the baby before you really loved it." I loved my son or daughter. Whether I lost the baby after two weeks of pregnancy or just after birth, I loved him or her.

-Don't say, "Isn't it time you got over this and moved on?"It's not something I enjoy, being grief-stricken. I wish it had never happened. But it did and it's a part of me forever. The grief will ease on its own timeline, not mine - or yours.

-Don't say, "Now you have an angel watching over you." I didn't want her to be my angel. I wanted her to bury me in my old age.

-Don't say, "I understand how you feel." Unless you've lost a child, you really don't understand how I feel. And even if you have lost a child, everyone experiences grief differently.

-Don't tell me horror stories of your neighbor or cousin or mother who had it worse. The last thing I need to hear right now is that it is possible to have this happen six times, or that I could carry until two days before my due-date and labor 20 hours for a dead baby. These stories frighten and horrify me and leave me up at night weeping in despair. Even if they have a happy ending, do not share these stories with me.

-Don't pretend it didn't happen and don't change the subject when I bring it up. If I say, "Before the baby died..." or "when I was pregnant..." don't get scared. If I'm talking about it, it means I want to. Let me. Pretending it didn't happen will only make me feel utterly alone.

- Don't say, "It's not your fault." It may not have been my fault, but it was my responsibility and I failed. The fact that I never stood a chance of succeeding only makes me feel worse. This tiny little being depended upon me to bring him safely into the world and I couldn't do it. I was supposed to care for him for a lifetime, but I couldn't even give him a childhood. I am so angry at my body you just can't imagine.

-Don't say, "Well, you weren't too sure about this baby, anyway." I already feel so guilty about ever having complained about morning sickness, or a child I wasn't prepared for, or another mouth to feed that we couldn't afford. I already fear that this baby died because I didn't take the vitamins, or drank too much coffee, or had alcohol in the first few weeks when I didn't know I was pregnant. I hate myself for any minute that I had reservations about this baby. Being unsure of my pregnancy isn't the same as wanting my child to die - I never would have chosen for this to happen.

-Do say, "I am so sorry." That's enough. You don't need to be eloquent. Say it and mean it and it will matter.

-Do say, "You're going to be wonderful parents some day," or "You're wonderful parents and that baby was lucky to have you." We both need to hear that.

-Do say, "I have lighted a candle for your baby," or "I have said a prayer for your baby."

-Do send flowers or a kind note - every one I receive makes me feel as though my baby was loved. Don't resent it if I don't respond.

-Don't call more than once and don't be angry if the machine is on and I don't return your call. If we're close friends and I am not responding to your attempts to help me, please don't resent that, either. Help me by not needing anything from me for a while.

If you're my boss or my co-worker: 

-Do recognize that I have suffered a death in my family - not a medical condition. 

-Do recognize that in addition to the physical after effects I may experience, I'm going to be grieving for quite some time. Please treat me as you would any person who has endured the tragic death of a loved one - I need time and space.

-DO understand if I do not attend baby showers/christening/birthday parties etc. And DON'T ask why I can't come. 

Please don't bring your baby or toddler into the workplace.If your niece is pregnant, or your daughter just had a baby, please don't share that with me right now. It's not that I can't be happy for anyone else, it's that every smiling, cooing baby, every glowing new mother makes me ache so deep in my heart I can barely stand it. I may look okay to you, but there's a good chance that I'm still crying every day. It may be weeks before I can go a whole hour without thinking about it. You'll know when I'm ready - I'll be the one to say, "Did your daughter have her baby?" or, "How is that precious little boy of yours? I haven't seen him around the office in a while."

Above all, please remember that this is the worst thing that ever happened to me. The word "miscarriage" is small and easy. But my baby's death is monolithic and awful. It's going to take me a while to figure out how to live with it. Bear with me.