You see me and I smile. You ask me how I am and I put on a brave face and tell you I am well, even if I'm not. A part of me wishes that I could show you a glimpse of the pain and love I feel, just so you could understand why I will never "get over it". You would see memories that I play and replay, forever wondering if there was something I could have done to change the outcome-If there was something I could have done to save the lives of my children. If you could have a moment in my shoes, you would feel the aching of my empty arms and the overwhelming sorrow that I feel everyday, being the mom to four angels.
If I could give you a peek into my life, you would feel the pain and disbelief as I remember the day I found out I was having a miscarriage for the first time. You would see my second pregnancy come to a devastating end at nineteen weeks and the day I gently placed my son in a casket, kissed his head and slowly closed the lid, knowing that was the last time I would see his perfect face. You would feel the panic I felt the day I went to the restroom, days after finding out I was pregnant with our third, only to see blood. You would see my husband and I sitting in a dimly lit ultrasound room during our fourth pregnancy with tears streaming down our faces as we were told the little girl we were expecting no longer had a heartbeat. You would feel my undying love for the children I will hold forever in my heart.
I know so many of you are hurting because you hold your children in your heart instead of your arms. It is beautiful how much a mother can love, even if she only carries her child for a matter of weeks. The length of a pregnancy in no way indicates the strength or depth of a mother's love. I wish this concept was something more people understood. Losing a child is a heartbreak that words cannot adequately express and it's not something that one can just "move on" from.
I will grieve for as long as I live. At first I hated this fact, but as time goes on, I have come to view grief as a cherished and old friend. Grief is not weakness and it is nothing to be ashamed of. It has become a driving force in my life to honor the memories of my angels. I may cry, but I am not weak. I might fall, but I always get up. The grief I feel from the loss of my children is evidence that I loved, and that I loved deeply. I will not apologize for that. I am and always will be a grieving mother.
Lauren is the wife of an incredible man, the mother to a handsome little boy who came to their family through adoption and to four beautiful angels. She graduated with a Bachelor's Degree in Marriage and Family Studies and is currently living in Idaho with her husband and their two dogs. She writes about her journey as she navigates life as a grieving mother in hopes to raise awareness about pregnancy loss. Her goal is to empower and uplift woman in all stages of life, while encouraging an honest dialogue about the taboo subject of miscarriage, child loss and adoption.
It's hard to express and she did it beautifully. If you haven't heard the good news, they welcomed a baby boy to their family through adoption this week!!! I've been so incredibly happy for them!