Seventeen

 Seventeen years of loving you. 

Seventeen years of missing you. 

Seventeen years since I have been the same. 

After 17 years, I feel like it is time to share for my sweet Emma Jean. She doesn’t get the chance to speak her truth, so today in her memory, I will speak it for her. As much as I love to share Emma, I don’t share this part of her story. 

It’s something I have held in my heart with such regret it eats at me. A few people know, but I’m not sure how much even those few really know. 

There is a word I don’t even want to say out loud because it brings me such pain. 

Words I have used 

Wanted, loved, cherished, desired…. These are ways I want to remember my daughter.  Aborted is not a word I ever want to use. In the medical community they call it inducing. I induced with my sweet Emma, only to find out later I aborted her. In the midst of my shock and grief I never thought of what we went through as anything as terrible as an abortion. I induced for her comfort, for my safety, for the health of myself to survive a pregnancy I was scared to continue. 

At least that’s what I was told.  

Beside myself with fear, I prayed for answers. Induction seemed like the best choice for our family. If only I had realized my Aunt’s concerns about induction were so much more than I knew. If only we had known - as the insurance paperwork would report, Abortion was the reality. 

I hate seeing on the news and social media stories of 

All of the women out there shouting their abortion. Bragging about the baby they are pregnant with not being human. Protesting their right to kill their child. Most without any adverse diagnosis. I imagine many have never even been pregnant, never having been given a diagnosis incompatible with life. Most of the women shouting don’t have a clue.

How many of them have sat in a room with unimaginable grief? 

How many that spout off about women’s reproductive rights have felt the pain of loss ?

The pain of your body no longer being pregnant. 

Not understanding that the abortion means your mind knows the baby is gone and your body continues to make milk and believe it is sustaining life. 

How many have felt the absolute despair of grieving a baby you know would not have lived, but you question yourself every fucking day not knowing if you’ve made the right decision?

My body, my choice- but not with out the consequences. 

Pain

Grief

PTSD

Regret

Uncertainty

It has been 17 years today. 

Every single day I wonder who she would have been. 

Every single day I wonder how life would be if I had the knowledge I learned with Connor and the fight in me to advocate for my pregnancy. 

Every single day I wonder how I could have been so naive and stupid to not know Induction and abortion were the same. 

I never held my baby girl in my arms. 

 I will never see her face. 

On her birthday I grieve differently than on Connor’s birthday. 

Emma gave me the gift of becoming an advocate for all of my kids. 

She made me a fighter. 

She helped me question doctors, ask for second opinions and to keep pushing and 

to never 

back down. 

Having a diagnosis incompatible with life is devastating. 

Being told it will be easier to end the pain now is “normal” medical advice. 

Such a lie. 

Grief is life long. 

Shortening the time you spend with your child does not help anything. 

It brings regret, what ifs and pain beyond normal grief. 

Every second you are given with your child, in utero or on this Earth, take it. 

If you were told your living child had months to live, would you stop caring for them? 

If it seems I am passionate about this it is because I deal with the grief every single day. 

I have only ever felt support from my family and friends.

I have never had anyone question me on any part of her life and death. 

But, that doesn’t change the fact that I have always questioned myself. 

Years ago I vowed to forgive myself. To let go of the pain of regret. 

Most days I don’t feel the sting and as time goes on I feel the sadness less and less. 

But, days like today bring me back to the moments of grief so far from reason. 

So Far from healing, that I am back in those moments of pain and regret. 

I question myself. I question each step that lead to her loss. 

Because of my sweet infant daughter. Given a death sentence regardless. A life unsustainable outside of my womb. 

This tiny baby who made me question everything I had ever known. 

Because of my sweet innocent daughter. 

Because of Emma. 

I changed. 

I had the honor and privilege of carrying Emma’s brother to term. 

I had the strength to fight to carry to term. To research and to have more information and faith in myself than a doctor could knock down. 

Her life and death formed a version of myself I am proud to be. 

I am not afraid to stand up for what I believe in. 

 I am who I am today because of Emma. 

On her birthday I hope to honor her with the truth of her story. 

How she was owed so much more in this life than she was given. 

How she will always be cherished, loved, hoped for and wanted. 

Emma Jean, Happy 17 💗

Had she been able to just be...

Somedays

some weeks 

some months 

Harder than the years 

before them. 

Things creep into my mind.

Leaving me feeing guilt ridden and grief stricken all in a single bolt. 

Regret.

Thoughts of how I failed her. 

Thoughts of how I should have been stronger. 

Thoughts on who she would have been, 

Had she been able to just be. 

Eight years ago I was grieving the loss of my daughter. 

Eight years ago I was waiting to just get to the day she should have been born. 

I was crying on her gravestone 

Just as I cry on my couch today. 

Whether it be induction

Termination 

Abortion

It doesn't matter how my insurance billed me.

It doesn't matter how the Church viewed me.

I lost my child.

I lost every hope and dream for her.

I lost 19 weeks of my pregnancy that I may have been able to have with her.

Was it from fear?

Yes

Was it from shock? 

Yes

Was it from lack of information? 

Yes

Was it from doctors telling me all of the defects she had and her zero percent chance at life.

From the fact that she had stopped growing and it was only a matter of time before she was gone....

Yes

If I had to go back and do it all again would I change my mind

           Hell freaking yes 

I don't often feel bad.

But every once in awhile it plagues me.

The guilt, the regret and the grief play on each other until I feel just about as awful as possible. Like I don't have any of the answers and I could question every move I make. Because if I didn't know then, do I know now?

8 years ago we joked how she would of been born on our anniversary. 

2 years younger than Anna. 

Our little Emma Jean.

I have spent the last 8 years working hard to never regret anything again. Especially anything to do with my children. Emma taught me that. She changed me forever. She made me a better person.

 If only I could know who she was...

Who would she have been, had she been able to just be. 

34 year milestones

I am proud of myself today. 

Early on in this pregnancy I wasn't sure I could shop for this baby. 

The fear of my past realities has scarred me. The thought of having things I can't use (again) is a nightmare- but I am not letting fear overtake my happiness. 

Feeling Sammi move around and seeing her healthy ultrasounds give me the hope I need. Trusting in God and that He has planned her arrival from the very beginning continue to bring me peace. 

Today we registered at Babies R Us. Nine years after the first time we did it. This time Anna held the scanner and we chose things as a family.

It was fun and felt really good to have the great feeling that I will be using the stuff we scanned. 

 Sammi will be getting baths and sleeping in her crib. She will be using bottles and Binkys. I will need burp cloths to clean up baby puke! 

Today was a good day. I have come a long way- the things that may seem like a normal part of pregnancy are never just normal after loss. 

My new normal and 5 1/2 years of healing have lead me to a place I can enjoy my pregnancy. I can enjoy thinking forward and dreaming of the day she is here. 

This pregnancy was a total surprise. God taught us a long time ago we are not in control and life is all in His time. So glad He knew when I would not only be able to handle, but to really appreciate and enjoy pregnancy again.

 I consider today a little milestone in my pregnancy and in my grief. I would pat myself on the back, but Baby kicks beat a pat on the back anyday. 

Like there's no tomorrow

This morning there was a question posed on one of the Anencephaly groups i follow on facebook. 

"What has been the most hurtful thing said to you while carrying to term?"

I have to admit I was lucky- I felt support from family and friends. I didn't have anything inappropriate said to me (that I can remember) and most people didn't really mention it. 

After I thought about it I realized how the things that were said to me from acquaintances and strangers were the things I have been hearing again in the past few months.

I find it interesting that the things people said to me while carrying to term are the same things they say to me now fostering a baby- 

"I could never do that"

"how will you let him go" 

"I could never be that strong"

 I take these things as hurtful because I question my own strength daily- no one wants to grieve or give a child back (to God or his family) but the reason I carried to term and the reason I foster are similar as well- because of the love of a child.

In a perfect world we would get to spend forever with those we love- but the truth is we don't know how much time we get. I spent 9 months carrying Connor and enjoying every kick and hiccup. I knew my time would come to an end with him- but it didn't make me love him or care for him any differently than I would a perfectly healthy child. 

I have used that knowledge to be a foster parent. I feel the same way about baby D. I will love him and care for him for as long as I can. If that means that his time with us ends next month or he stays forever. Either way I will love him - we will love him- with our whole hearts. 

There is an old saying 

       "love like there's no tomorrow"

Growing up in a family where grief was an everyday part of life this is how we loved. 

Dealing with the loss of two babies at Birth I learned this again. 

We don't know how much time we have with anyone in our lives- 

So we will love like there is no tomorrow and then wake up and be happy to do it all over again .....