But still . . . Christmas

We removed Katie from her carseat, securely buckled her into the stroller, and lovingly tucked her blankie around her little legs.

It was a short distance to the medical building, where we rode the elevator in anticipation of our 8-week prenatal appointment. We spoke with Katie of Santa and how he couldn’t wait to meet her later that afternoon.

We were truly elated that the day of our appointment had finally arrived. It had taken us five months of temping and charting to conceive.

Nichole? We’re ready for you. Wow … Katie is getting so big!

It was at that same 8-week appointment, nearly two years before, that we had heard the the first sounds of life from our beautiful Katherine. After a year of trying to get pregnant, finally hearing her heartbeat made her so real, so completely ours. And as we sat, in that very same room, we were thrilled to have her with us as we prepared to hear her sibling’s heartbeat for the first time.

Okay, this gel will be a bit cold … so sorry.

The moment when the nurse placed Katie onto my chest for the first time, when I felt her warm and wonderfully sticky body, will forever be a pivotal moment in my life.  After a difficult pregnancy and eight weeks of complete bedrest to stave off preterm labor, she was safe and warm and she was ours.

Okay, let’s take a listen to this little one’s heartbeat.

Once Katie got the hang of nursing, I came to treasure those moments that were ours alone.  That connection, holding her in my arms, smoothing her downy soft hair, holding her tiny baby girl hands while she looked at me, was a gift beyond measure.  I was so eager to experience those early days again, to snuggle our tiny baby while we established our nursing relationship.

Hmmm…sometimes the heartbeat is too quiet to pick up with this fetal Doppler.

When Katie was learning to crawl, we enticed her from her rocking position with her favorite pink bunny, placing it just beyond her reach, encouraging her to push herself to get it. That moment, when the lurching turned to crawling, was bittersweet.  My beautiful baby somehow, in just an instant, seemed less of a baby.

Let me just run and grab the sonogram machine.

Katie walked at ten months. Her first, tentative steps were taken in our bedroom, with the lure of her grandmother’s necklace, held just beyond her reach.  Once she began walking, there was no stopping her, our baby, still a baby, but somehow older than her months.

I’ll be back in a just a minute.

We’ve always treasured bedtime. When Katie was small, Craig began the ritual of reading three books to her each evening.  When they finished their books, I would enter her room, Craig would wish her a good night sleep, and then I would quietly nurse her before carefully placing her in her crib for the night, wishing her the sweetest of dreams.  I would close the door with one hand and blow kisses with the other, just as Craig and I do to this day.

Okay, let’s have a look … Hmmm.

We always knew that we wanted to have at least one more baby, to give Katie a sibling, to have another baby to love.  It finally felt as though the time was right and we were so eager to see how she would respond to a baby brother or sister.

Silence.

This family that we’ve built has filled an emptiness in my heart.  This life that we’ve given Katie, this life that she has given us, has brought me joy and a sense of fulfillment beyond compare. Being a part of a traditional family for the first time in my life has been completely amazing.

I’m afraid there’s no heartbeat.

Craig’s grip on my hand tightened and when I looked over at him, seeking his soft eyes, through my welling tears, he and Katie blurred into one.  One beautiful family within my reach.

I am so terribly sorry.

We gathered our things, too pained to know what to say to one another, too numb to know what to say to ourselves, and we went to see Santa, just as we promised we would.

In that moment, Katie couldn’t and wouldn’t know just how tremendous a loss we had just suffered, loss that would remain with us for always.

What she did know, what she could feel, was the wonder of the season, the magic that we’d been speaking of for weeks.  The love that we had for one another.

When you have a toddler, life continues. You can’t simply put it on hold while you grieve.

So, we celebrated Christmas as best we could, finding tremendous comfort in our beautiful daughter.

A Christmas of considerable loss and unprecedented sadness.

But still . . . Christmas.

Our second Christmas.

Above all, we were a family.

And we had each other.

I want to thank my dear friend, Kris, for holding my hand while I relived this painful experience.  I love you, Kris.  Beyond words.

This post is linked up with Mama Kat’s Writer’s Workshop.  The prompt was to write a post in response to one of five words. The word that I chose was excruciating.

Mama's Losin' It

108 comments

  1. kris

    Nichole?

    You have magic, babe.

    You really really do.

    Love this.

    And I love you.

  2. brandy

    I remember this too.

  3. SquashedMom

    Oh, Nichole, this is so beautiful and so sad. Excruciating indeed. I am so sorry you had to go through this, but so happy that you have your lovely family now. Happy Holidays to you.

  4. M.Jay. asomeeficamommy.blogspot.com

    Lovely post, Katie sounds like you sunshine, and I am sure she will appreciate this one day.

    I hope it gets better and that you get the opportunity to experience what you did with Katie once again.

    Visiting from Mama Kat’s
    http://asomeeficamommy.blogspot.com/2010/12/simple-right.html

  5. I am so sorry for your heartbreaking loss. You wrote this story so beautifully and I so admire your strength in not allowing your grief to overtake your special festive time with your daughter. Wishing you, your daughter & husband all the best for the future.

  6. campkennedy

    I share your pain. Your beautiful post captures the pain I have never been brave enough to share outside of my home. Thank You.

  7. you have an amazing way with words. You write of heartbreak so beautifully. I know this pain all too well and I am always amazed at just how many women have had the same experience, yet at the time it seemed no one around me really got it.

  8. Kim thechild-kim.blogspot.com/

    There is a saying…we are as sick as our secrets. I think that writing about painful events lets them out. I've often found that in sharing my pain, even though it never leaves me, it becomes a little more bearable.

  9. Miss_Scarlett99

    I honestly cannot express the words on how this made me feel. It was beautiful and heartbreaking and sad and painful…It was amazing.

    I was lucky. I have never had issues with pregnancies or getting pregnant. I cannot imagine what it would be like.

  10. This was beautiful. I felt like you were telling my own story. Except I didn't have my Katie yet when we experienced a pregnancy loss. I know it wouldn't have been any less painful, though. Thank you for being willing to share these moments with us. I know it is like baring your soul. I feel like you are a kindred spirit.

  11. Natalie mycrazybusylife.com

    Once you agin you brought me to tears with your beautiful words.

  12. So beautiful, and so sad. I'm sorry you lived through this incredible hurt.

    But still…the family you are meant to have is growing so beautifully around you. I'm glad that you find so much joy in that.

    Love you.

  13. CDG

    To endure such a loss at Christmas seems particularly cruel, and yet, the beloved soul who didn't stay? Sent you Matthew.

    As always, beautiful, true, and brave.

    So much love for you!

  14. Tears are streaming down my eyes. Your words are so beautiful, sad and brave. We just suffered our second miscarriage this year and it sucks! I am adding this to my favorite posts. Hugs to you and Craig and your sweet family. And a special one just for Matthew. :)

  15. jdaniel4smom

    I love how tenderly you crafted this post. It must have been hard to write yet you shared tough and wonderful moments painting a true picutre of a family

  16. KLZ taminginsanity.com

    I miss our first little guy every day. It makes parenting a lot different though…

    I'm sorry you went through it. I'm sorry anyone does.

  17. Mad Woman adiaryofamadwoman.com

    Yes. Tears. Running. Why do I read your posts at work? Nichole I too share your pain and now understand even more your struggles. Thank you for being brave and sharing your story and reminding me once again, it isn't about me and my grief or preconceived ideas anymore, its about my child and my family.
    Dammit, I wish I could hug you right now.

  18. beautifully written. the pain is indeed excruciating. i am so sorry for your loss. xoxo

  19. Nichole inthesesmallmoments.com

    Thank you … I couldn't have written this piece without you.
    Your friendship is one of my many blessings.

  20. Nichole inthesesmallmoments.com

    Yes, splintered all over the floor. That's just what it felt like.
    And the leaving, the loss of hope? Crushing.
    Thank you, Erin.

  21. Nichole inthesesmallmoments.com

    And I remember that you were there for us, with your heart and with your basket of love that you delivered to us.
    I will never forget your kindness.

  22. Nichole inthesesmallmoments.com

    My family is indeed lovely. I truly appreciate all that I have been blessed with.
    And Matthew is a gift, perhaps treasured even more after suffering such loss.
    Thank you, Varda.

  23. Nichole inthesesmallmoments.com

    Katie truly is a ray of sunshine…
    We were blessed to get pregnant again rather quickly and now have a magical son.
    Thank you for your kind words.

  24. Nichole inthesesmallmoments.com

    Thank you, Sarah.
    We have since been blessed with a delightful little boy, a child who wouldn't be here today if things had happened differently.

  25. Nichole inthesesmallmoments.com

    That pain is life defining.
    It never goes away, despite how many other children you have. Because that loss counted.
    I wish you peace and happiness.

  26. Nichole inthesesmallmoments.com

    When we suffered that loss, I didn't think that I knew anyone else who had gone through it. Once we had to share our sad news, I was shocked at the outpouring of support from others who had also suffered a loss and just didn't talk speak of it. There was comfort in knowing that while we would never forget that child, others had survived it and we would too.

    Thank you for your kind words, Cristina.
    How I wish that none of us knew this pain.

  27. Nichole inthesesmallmoments.com

    I cannot even imagine how difficult it would be to hear those words and have no one there to share the burden of your grief with.

    Thank you for coming by…thank you for coming out of the woodwork.
    I wish you a happy and healthy holiday season.

  28. Nichole inthesesmallmoments.com

    I agree, Kim.

    It took some time to reach a point where I wanted to talk about it with anyone other than my husband, the only other person who knew exactly what my pain felt like. We cried and grieved with just one another for a while.

    In time, talking to others felt right and helped so much.

  29. Nichole inthesesmallmoments.com

    Thank you for coming by … thank you for your kindness.

  30. Nichole inthesesmallmoments.com

    If we didn't have Katie, I don't know how I would gotten out of bed again. I think it would have been far more painful if we hadn't had her there with us, a reminder of all that we already had.

    I can't fathom the strength it took you to go on, Elizabeth. I truly can't.

    It seems that we are indeed kindred spirits, my friend.

  31. Nichole inthesesmallmoments.com

    Thank you for reading, Natalie.
    I appreciate your kindness so very much.

  32. Nichole inthesesmallmoments.com

    We have the family that we were meant to have.
    Matthew wouldn't be here today, delighting me with his coy smile, snuggling into my neck at every opportunity, if things hadn't happened as they did.
    Love you, my glorious friend.

  33. Nichole inthesesmallmoments.com

    Thank you, Mari.
    It is that need for normalcy, for stability, that got us through those days.
    Katie truly saved us from wallowing in those dark places. Craig and I each still visit that sad place, that place of loss, but we know that we can't remain there for long stretches of time. We have two amazing children who need us.
    Thank you so much for your kindness and friendship.

  34. Nichole inthesesmallmoments.com

    There is another, different type of loss that haunts Christmas for me, one that I will write about soon.

    But, Christmas still holds magic for me and there is never a time when I am more grateful for all of my blessings.

    Thank you for your words … you have no idea just how much they mean to me.
    Much, much love in return.

  35. Nichole inthesesmallmoments.com

    Oh, Tonya, I am so very sorry that you have had to go through it not once, but twice.
    The thought of going through it again factors into my fear of having another baby.
    I am happy to deliver all of those hugs, Tonya.
    Thank you so much.

  36. Nichole inthesesmallmoments.com

    Thank you for coming by and offering your kind words.

  37. Nichole inthesesmallmoments.com

    You never stop missing that baby. Never.
    No one should ever have go through that pain.
    I am so sorry that you know what that feels like.
    There is nothing worse than the loss of a child.

  38. Oh Nicole. You wrote this so beautifully – it must have been so hard to relive this pain. I am so sorry for your loss.

  39. Nichole inthesesmallmoments.com

    Oh, sweetie, you already know that your family is the most important thing. You didn't need me to remind you of that.

    Thank you for reading and for sharing with me that you understand what I'm saying.

    And that hug? I would love to have it. Let's set a date to get together!

  40. Nichole inthesesmallmoments.com

    Katie…
    I thought of you when I was publishing this post.
    I wanted to warn you not to read…I feared that your pain might be too close to the surface.

    You could never fail me…never.

    I am so sorry if I caused you even one moment of pain.
    I know that you know exactly what it's like to hear those words and to leave with the knowledge that what you thought you had is gone.

    I love you, Katie. If you want to talk, I am right here.

  41. Nichole inthesesmallmoments.com

    Thank you so very much for your thoughtful words…

  42. Gina doggeanie.biz

    Hi. There was a profound silence around me while I read this. Like the world stopped. It was such a tender blog, like a piece of music, the sort that fills you full of emotion and wrings your heart. Thank you so much for the bravery in posting this.

  43. andygirl

    so much love your way. thank you for sharing.

  44. Nichole inthesesmallmoments.com

    Sometimes, for me, it is harder to not talk about something. Though it was difficult to write, it felt right to share. I've been writing this blog since April and this is the first time that I've felt ready to post about it.
    Thank you for coming by…I truly appreciate your kind words.

  45. Rachel mommyneedsavacation.com

    Your writing?? Simply beautiful. I know this must have been hard to relive and write but I am so glad you did.

  46. Nichole inthesesmallmoments.com

    Oh Gina, thank you so much for your beautiful and thoughtful comment.

  47. I'm thankful that I've never experienced something like this, but I have several friends who have. What a blessing that you have your Katie.

  48. Miss Angie mysocalledchaos.com

    Wow, I am so sorry for your loss… This was beautifully written, and incredibly heartbreaking. Love to you and yours.

  49. This one hurts…but is beautiful all the same. I am so sorry you had to experience that. It is something I can only imagine (and I hope it stays that way…), but it is like a knife in my heart to imagine nonetheless.

    I probably shouldn't read things like this when we're trying to conceive…I will freak myself out…

  50. Elizabeth Flora Ross efloraross.com

    I recently had to write about this experience during WNFIN when I completed Part One of my book. And it brought all the emotions back as if it were yesterday. I didn't know how I was going to go on at the time, but I did.

    I would love for you to be a beta reader for my book when the time comes. As a mom who has experienced what you have and as a writer, you would have invaluable feedback.

  51. Pop

    Thanks for sharing, Nichole. Sorry, having trouble typing b/c I can't see. Seems I got some sawdust in my eye.

    But seriously, beautifully written post.

  52. Cheryl @ Mommypants mommypants.com

    Love you. You brave soul, you..

  53. Nichole inthesesmallmoments.com

    Thank you so much for reading, Andy.
    Heaps of love right back to you.

  54. Nichole inthesesmallmoments.com

    Thank you so much, Rachel.
    Hard to write and relive, but reassuring in a way, to look back and see that I am stronger than I thought I was…that we can weather anything as a family.

  55. Nichole inthesesmallmoments.com

    She is an absolute blessing, Jennifer. We also have a baby boy now who is equally wonderful.
    We are blessed, indeed.

  56. Nichole inthesesmallmoments.com

    Thank you so much.
    Love and wishes for a happy holiday season right back to you.

  57. Nichole inthesesmallmoments.com

    Thank you…
    I am sending you wishes for ease in conceiving and a happy and healthy pregnancy to follow. :)

  58. Nichole inthesesmallmoments.com

    That darn sawdust has been plaguing me all day.
    I am so grateful for your kindness.

  59. Nichole inthesesmallmoments.com

    Thank you, my lovely friend. Love you too…

  60. Nichole inthesesmallmoments.com

    Thank you so very much for your kindness, Sarah.

  61. Alexandra174

    So very sad. I'm sorry.

    Makes me think of how many stories we all have inside ourselves.

    Someone once said it so well: "I wish we could hyperlink our lives"

    That would make it so much quicker, and less painful, wouldn't it?

    Beautiful. Just beautiful.

  62. Tim

    Sorry to hear that you and Craig had to go through that Nichole.

  63. Natalie mommyofamonster.com

    Hugs and love being thrown at you from here. What courage to write. My sister experienced this, as did my mom and grandmother, and I just couldn't imagine. This is so beautiful, Chole. Beautiful.

  64. Mari

    One thing I didn't include in today's post about Matt — we fought so hard to keep a sense of joy in the midst of our crisis. Our daughter was five months old when we went to Stanford with him. I know for a fact that without the desire to let them feel safe, secure, and normal, I would have collapsed under the weight of it all. On the one hand, it is stressful to feel a little inauthentic because you're pretending to be whole when you don't feel that way. On the other, that very pressure makes it possible to stay afloat. I've never known the loss of a baby, and I am sorry for the ache you and Craig both still experience.

  65. ~*Jess*~ straighttalkjess.com

    Sweetheart. My heart hurts for all of you. I'm sorry. And so grateful you have your sweet girl to keep you going and remind you of this wonderful time. Hugs. Prayers.

  66. Amy @ NTT nevertruetales.com

    What a tremendously beautiful way to tell a heartbreaking story. What got me the most: the fact that you still went to see Santa. Because you would…your observation that life has to continue when you have a toddler is spot on. Thank you for sharing this.

  67. @2old2tap twitter.com/2old2tap

    I can only send hugs your way.
    You've told of a painful time with grace and dignity.
    It made me cry, yet smile for Katie's sake.

  68. Roxane roxanesdays.com

    I can't speak from experience with this kind of loss, but I have been in that place. The place where you have to just continue on when all your body and your mind wants and needs to do is grieve. Where there is a small impressionable person that NEEDS you. The whole you. And you just…continue. Because you must. But it's excruciating. Just like you said.

    Mothers are wondrous creatures. You are one of the exceptionally wondrous, I think.

    Love to you.

  69. Nichole inthesesmallmoments.com

    Thank you, my dear friend.

  70. Nichole inthesesmallmoments.com

    Thank you, Tim. It was horrible in every way, but we are stronger for it. And the appreciation that we have for our children knows no bounds.

  71. Nichole inthesesmallmoments.com

    Thank you, Natalie, so very much.

  72. Nichole inthesesmallmoments.com

    Thank you, Jess. It was such a terrible time. It's hard to believe that two years have passed since then and now we have our beautiful boy.

  73. Nichole inthesesmallmoments.com

    To Katie, in that moment, Santa was more real than the baby.
    Santa was tangible while the baby was not.
    Looking back, I am so proud of us for going.
    Thank you, Amy.

  74. Nichole inthesesmallmoments.com

    Thank you, Renee. Thank you so very much.
    We are truly blessed to have these two beautiful babies. Life is so fragile.

  75. Nichole inthesesmallmoments.com

    Yes, mothers are indeed wondrous creatures. There is nothing that has made me feel stronger, more confident, and at the same time, more vulnerable than being a mother.

    Thank you for your lovely words of love. Much love right back to you.

  76. Moving. Amazing. Beautiful.

    Visiting from the link up (Red Dress)

  77. Such a powerful post. I am moved. Thank you for sharing such a raw moment. I am visiting from the LBS link up for the first time. I look forward to reading more of your stuff!

  78. Sherri oldtweener.blogspot.com/

    Nichole, I am so sad reading this…..it must have been very hard to write, but maybe helpful, too? Your words (as always) are touching and real, bringing us all into your world at that moment in time. And at this time of year? Even harder.

    But you are so right that life goes on with toddlers. It just has to, for their sake and ours. Thank you for opening up about this. I wish I could hug you right now, my friend.

  79. Jessica bern bernthis.com

    I too struggled to get pregnant and ended up doing in vitro. I have a beautiful little girl now but I remember when I left my ex after 14 years. my kid was only 16months and life had to go on b/c she needed me. It was so difficult to grieve the loss of my marriage and have to be there for her but like you said, life goes on because they say so….:)

    I'm so sorry for your loss

  80. abbyizzysmom

    I am so sorry this happened to you.

    I can't begin to understand.

    My womb was barren and empty despite years of trying until we finally conceived our twins through our 2nd round of IVF. And while we are blessed, there's that part of me that longs to remember those days with a little one.

    But we are a family, and there will be no more babies for us.

    And yes, life goes on—with kids, it has to. And it's hard being a parent at times like this. My thoughts and prayers are with you and I appreciate your sharing this pivotal and powerful post with us. You are strong and brave and an amazing writer.

  81. Kristy pampersandpinot.com

    Beautifully written. Thank you for sharing even though it must have been so hard.

  82. Carolyn thistalkaintcheap.com

    I read. And such a sadness came over me. With my first pregnancy I was convinced for three days that I had miscarried. It was the worst 3 days of my life. The doctors couldn't figure out what happened, why all the miscarriage signs were there and still, they heard a heartbeat 3 days later. They didn't know, but I knew. I'm pretty sure that I lost a twin. My darling Temera is the kind of child ever parent dreams of… but something is missing. There is some deep sadness about her… I know she had a twin. I just know it the way mother's know things that don't necessarily make any sense.

    Katie is truly blessed to have a mother like you.

  83. The Sweetest thesweetest3.com

    This was a beautiful post. I have been there, too- have heard that phrase more than once, now. "There's no heartbeat." And it never gets any easier. Even with another child at home. In fact, I think it makes it harder. Because you have to keep your Mommy face on, your game face. Ready to comfort, clothe, feed, and talk about Santa. My thoughts are with you.

  84. Jaime ainsleylynn.blogspot.com

    I'm so sorry for you loss. I didn't make it to my 8 week appointment. I was 7 weeks along when I started bleeding on a Friday evening. And I knew. It was a horrible weekend and by Monday I was so exhausted from worry and pain. But I knew the moment I started bleeding…even though everyone tried to tell me it might be okay…I knew.

    Nothing anyone says makes it feel better, but now almost 2 years after the miscarriage, I have a little 9 month old boy…but I always remember. When the due date passes, I think of that baby, and I am a bit sad.

    Try to take time to grieve and let yourself cry. Blessings to you.

  85. I am in awe of your writing ability. In short simple lines, I lived through your appointment with you, yet each paragraph below the line was filled with the wonders of Katie. Absolutely beautiful writing. I've never experienced this loss, but through your words, I am feeling it. God bless you, Nichole.

  86. Marian runawaysentence.com

    late to read this, but so glad i have. love you, nichole. just love.

  87. Leah lrw1225-livingleah.blogspot.com

    My ultrasound was done in complete silence and then I was told that something was wrong with the machine and they would have to call me to reschedule. Of course I knew something was wrong. I knew that before the ultrasound. I just didn't feel right. Felt like I was being poisoned. Had to endure another ultrasound to confirm that the baby would not make it and a third to confim the death. I have three beautiful children ages 18,10 and 3, but can't help missing Jahleel. He'd be 5 now.

  88. You dear girl, I am so sorry for your loss. The way you poured your heart out in this post really touched me. Your experience was so real to me. Reading your story was like reliving my second pregnancy. When the nurse or technologist hesitates or leaves to get the doctor, you know something has gone terribly wrong. My baby's heartbeat stopped at 6 months in the womb. He would be 32 years old today. After more infertility and more treatments, my third baby was blessedly, born without a hitch. My fourth baby was a twin. A little girl whom I miscarried 3 months in. Miraculously, her brother stayed put and was born 6 months later, healthy and strong. We went on to adopt two other children so in all we have raised 5. Sweetie, you can build a family in many different ways. I know if you want more children you will have them. The wee one you lost will always be part of your family though. You had her in your belly, you loved her with all your heart and you grieve her still. She is yours and always will be. I wish you the peace which passeth all understanding and the joyous light of children and family in your future. Blessings, Tia

  89. So very sorry for your loss, but you're right that life has to go on regardless. Although tragic moments in one's life build character; wouldn't we'd rather have less character?

  90. jessb27

    This is a beautiful post and I am late in commenting but just wanted to say that I am so sorry for your loss. I lost my daughter when she was two days old and have too learned that life must go on, especially when you have little ones tugging your hand through the seasons.

  91. Whitney blog.magnolia-queen.com/

    Thank you for sharing your story, it was beautiful, but heartbreaking.

  92. Nichole inthesesmallmoments.com

    Thank you so much, Nicole.

  93. Nichole inthesesmallmoments.com

    Thank you, Jennifer…I truly appreciate your kind words.

  94. Nichole inthesesmallmoments.com

    I would love to have that hug, Sherri.

    I truly don't think that I could have gone on if I hadn't had Katie there. Seeing her face and knowing that she needed us was what kept us upright. Thank goodness we already had her.

  95. Nichole inthesesmallmoments.com

    Thank you, Jessica.

    Yes, life does go on. If it weren't for my daughter, I don't know how long it would have taken me to realize that truth. Thank goodness for her.

    And thank you goodness for your daughter.

  96. Nichole inthesesmallmoments.com

    It took us a year to get pregnant with Katie, we had several failed IUIs before we got pregnant on our own on a fluke. IVF was our next step. I can't imagine how stressful that was, to have it fail the first time. Making a family shouldn't be so difficult, should it?

    Thank you for reading…I truly appreciate your kind words. :)

  97. Nichole inthesesmallmoments.com

    Thank you for reading, Kristy. :)

  98. Nichole inthesesmallmoments.com

    Oh, Carolyn, that is so terribly heartbreaking. I can't even begin to imagine how difficult it would be to just know that, but not have confirmation of it so that you could grieve. Your poor Temera. So very sad.

    Katie is magic…we are so blessed by her and now by her brother. So absolutely blessed.

  99. Nichole inthesesmallmoments.com

    Thank you so much for sharing your experience with me.
    I will never forget how I felt when I heard those words, how my mind was racing, how I tried to tell myself that it must be a mistake…that if the doctor tried harder to hear it, we would find the heartbeat. Because with no signs of miscarriage, I couldn't wrap my brain around the loss. It was so horrible.
    I truly appreciate your kind words.

  100. Nichole inthesesmallmoments.com

    Our miscarriage was nearly two years ago as well. We have a nearly 13-month-old son now who is a remarkable gift.
    But no, I will never forget the baby we lost.
    My heart goes out to you as you approach the anniversary of your loss. Much love to you and your family.

  101. Nichole inthesesmallmoments.com

    Thank you so much for your kindness and also for your kind words about my writing.
    Our amazing Katie, and now our sweet baby Matthew, are blessings beyond compare.
    Much love to you.

  102. Nichole inthesesmallmoments.com

    Thank you, Marian. Much love right back to you, my friend.

  103. Nichole inthesesmallmoments.com

    I cannot imagine being sent home without knowing what was happening. I am so incredibly sorry that you had to live through something like that.

    I remember thinking that the machine was just wrong. That it was just failing to pick up the heartbeat. I had no other symptoms of miscarriage, so there was a part of me that held onto the tiniest sliver of hope that our baby would be fine while we waited at home for my body to miscarry.

    My love you you, Jahleel, and the rest of your family.

  104. Nichole inthesesmallmoments.com

    The pain that you must have endured from losing your two babies must have been just horrible. I am in awe of the strength that it must have taken for you to go on.

    Thank you for sharing your story with me. There's a comfort in hearing that others know what you're feeling.

    I wish you much happiness, Tia.

  105. whatangiedidnext

    Oh.

    Yep. Been there.

    Your writing was shimmering with the ache of the moment. Beautiful.

  106. I too remember having this experience with my husband and our family.

  107. I am just now reading this. You have an amazing way of putting words together. We had a similar experience at me 12 week appointment. A beautifully healthy looking baby on that monitor with no heartbeat while I held my toddler tightly to my chest. My story is here http://rtrsharpfamily.blogspot.com/2009/10/life-c
    I know the pain and I know the comfort of a loved one and the real meaning of family and friends. My thoughts are with you.

  108. MamaTrack

    Wow, I identify with so much of this. We found out earlier because I had a complete miscarriage, so we went in because of the bleeding. But my son was with us when the ultrasound showed no heartbeat. And it was excruciating. I held it together for him over the following days, through a baby shower and meeting a friend's newborn. But it was awful. And physically, it was very hard.

    My baby would have been due September 27, 2011.

    Thank you for sending me this link. I'm glad I read it.

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