Saying Goodbye Too Soon


Most of the people in my life didn’t even know I was pregnant.  Even those closest to me had only just learned the news when our baby left us.

Over the past year, I had seen so many friends miscarry that I thought somehow that I could be “safe” if I just waited to tell everyone.  But, safe from what?  Safe from the loss?  Safe from having to deliver bad news?  Nobody wants to have to say those words, but healing doesn’t happen in secret.  It doesn’t happen in darkness.

We had just begun to tell our closest family the news when the bleeding started.  I spent the second half of that day with my family in a complete fog…that day that was supposed to be so happy…that day we had decided weeks before that we would share the great news of a new baby on the way.  I dragged myself home to lie down, but sleep didn’t come.  I tossed and turned and in between tears and fervent prayers, I squinted at the blue light of my phone, looking for hope and answers on the internet.  I found myself straddling a fine line between hope and surrender, not wanting to allow either one to completely overtake me.  Michael was at work and I was home alone and mainly I was scared that I would lose our baby all alone in the dark.

I spent another half a day in a fog of sadness, trying desperately to keep my daughter from seeing my tears and from feeling my despair.  When the baby finally left me, it came as a relief.  Though not the resolution I wanted, it was at least a release from the unknown and the fear.

I was ten weeks pregnant and had six glorious weeks of planning and dreaming about who this new little person might be.  I swooned at the idea of Evelyn becoming a big sister and couldn’t wait for her to be able to feel little baby kicks in my tummy.  It’s amazing how quickly a mama (and daddy) brain can wrap itself around the idea of new baby.  The connection is almost instantaneous.  The love hits you like ton of bricks.

I wasn’t prepared for this.  I was so certain about this baby right from the start.  I knew I was pregnant long before the test told me so.

In the days leading up to my miscarriage, we had just started to tell Evelyn about the baby in mommy’s belly and she was certain that it was a boy baby.  I like to think that maybe she knew something that the rest of us couldn’t have known.  She proudly sported her ‘Big Sister’ T-shirt and announced the news to my parents.  It feels so unfair that she won’t ever get to play with him and boss him around.

We had started to plan for the nursery and I bought a few teeny tiny cloth diapers from a friend.  We even had the names all ready to go.  This baby was real to us, even though we hadn’t yet seen him on a screen or heard a little heartbeat.

My thoughts and words here are starting to ramble as I try to make sense of something that can’t be explained away.  I know I am only at the beginning of the grieving process, and I can’t fully articulate everything that I am thinking and feeling.  But, I feel like talking about this loss is a way of remembering my baby.  As Michael and I stopped for food after our long ER visit, I noticed the the other diners happily chatting away, waitresses cleaning tables and everyone just going about their business as the reality of our loss weighed heavily on our weary hearts.  It was a great reminder to me that you really never know what other people are going through, what tragedy may have just fallen upon them.

While I have no regrets about waiting to tell people about my pregnancy, it scares me to think that I could just go about my business and most people would never even know what happened.  They wouldn’t ever know that my baby existed.  But, he did exist and he was loved and cherished and dreamed about and prayed for.  For a time, however brief, he was ours.

14 thoughts on “Saying Goodbye Too Soon

  1. So sorry you have to go through this. We went through the same thing before #2, and talking about it helped me realize how many families have experienced losses. It doesn’t make it better, just a little less isolating. Give yourself space to grieve ❤

    • Thank you, Courtney. Yes, I really debated about sharing this post, but I couldn’t bear the thought of just “moving on” without acknowledging this little person who stole our hearts. I think it is so very common and often kept in the dark.

  2. Carrie I am so sorry to hear about your loss. I cannot even fathom the grief you are feeling. My thoughts and prayers are with you and your family! There is no need to feel alone because you are never truly alone. Your sweet baby is at home with God who has a plan for you. Sometimes we are just not meant to know why God does what He does. But through it all, He loves you unconditionally and will take care of you.

    Love and prayers,

    • Thanks Karissa, I know that God’s plans are bigger than my own understanding and I find comfort in knowing that my baby is with Him. 🙂

  3. Thank you for sharing. So many pass up a miscarriage as common happenings. But it is a loss of a child and a dream. My little one was a twin. We lost the twin at 13 weeks just a few weeks after we found out that there were two little ones. I knew that one was weak and most likely wouldn’t make it at the time. Oh how i had hope and prayed he or she would pull through. But God had different plans. I often wonder how it would be with both of my babies here.

    • I’m so sorry for your loss, Leslie. For those who miscarry, I think we will always wonder what life would have been like if our littles had been able to stay with us.

    • Thanks, Dawn! I am trying to be positive this time around, but it’s challenging sometimes. P.S. I am totally making your chai mug cake today! 🙂

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