A year ago today I miscarried the baby we named Joy. …….
I remember the fears walking into the doctors that day, for this baby had already given us a scare and this was like the fifth time we had been back since we had been given the positive. Our treatment worked! We were pregnant finally!
As I walked in that day I kept thinking “But I saw the heartbeat last week.” Our baby that we tried so hard to get had had a heartbeat. Surely it was still there. Google said the likely hood of miscarriage was slim once we saw the heartbeat.
That heartbeat I saw the week before, had told us it was ok to tell the girls, they were going to be sisters again. That heartbeat told us It was ok to celebrate. That this baby was here to stay. This baby we already loved. That we had already discussed names. That heartbeat was everything.
But Our baby wasn’t ok. We would hear that our babies heartbeat was gone. The room would suddenly feel dense with thickness again. My joy my light taken from me once again. I looked at my husband, no words even needed to be spoken we both were thinking the same thing. How were we here again. More loss. We lost another baby. None of it would make sense. A insensitive midwife would tell us don’t cry you can have more I promise. I would want to smack her. Doesn’t she know we lost our daughter Everlee. Doesn’t she know we had suffered from secondary infertility. Doesn’t she know we went through test after test and to finally receive treatments to conceive this baby we just lost.
No I don’t know if I can have more. No I don’t know. Because at this point two babies have been taken from me. One I was blessed to still get to hold, my sweet Everlee, and make memories with. And this one was prayed for so long and so wanted and so tried for. No I don’t know if I get to have more. Because every time we mustered up enough to hope again, we would feel hopeless all over again.
We went home numb. Familiar with the pain. Like a robot, I geared myself up to accept the next step which is Grief. More grief on top of what I already had. We would start all over again. This was Just Too much loss.
I felt strongly that this baby needed to have a name. I did so much to honor Everlee with her name, this baby needed a name too. We named the baby, Joy, because for the short time we had this baby we immediately felt joy, joy for the future, Joy in the journey, so much joy.
Baby Joy was supposed to be our rainbow. But the only comforting thought I still can think of, is the fact that Everlee now has a sibling to hold in heaven, until we can get there to be with them too.
While I think miscarriage is different from Everlee’s neonatal death. The emptiness that is left is the familiar to how I felt back then. Either way our hopes were shattered. Dreams shattered all over again. And our arms still empty. Each time I questioned how I would pick myself up off the floor again. Each time I would question why me, why us. Each time I would find fault get and mad at my body for failing to keep my baby safe. Each time I would question God and say how could you. Each time I would feel incredibly alone.
We had been given so much hope after our infertility problems. Only to be left thinking what now. What now.
In the coming months I would wonder who was this baby I lost. I knew Everlee I held her, but this baby was a question to me.
I think I’ve shared this before, but I was given a dream where I saw a rainbow colored hot air ballon with a silloette flying upbove the sunflowers into the sky, where I saw Everlee holding her hand out as if she was waiting. From that point on I knew hot air balloons were meant for baby Joy just as sunflowers were for Everlee. And I would start to see these signs where ever I went. Heaven is amazing in that way I’ve found in these past years. Our loved ones find us through so many unique ways.
Even though I felt hopeless and scared to continue on our journey, we did seek out another doctor, muster up enough hope and try again. I’m glad I did because as I write this today, I’m watching my two week old baby boy sleep. If you told me I would have a living breathing baby in my arms now a year ago today I would not believed you.
Looking back at how hopeless, tired, and empty I felt, I can’t tell you what kept me going. I honestly don’t know how I continued, but whatever strength led me on, I continue to hold to today. I’m so thankful I didn’t give up.
I wasn’t sure how I wanted to remember this day, but today I dressed Thomas in the one outfit and blanket set I had bought while pregnant with baby Joy. I had stuffed this outfit away immediately after miscarrying, mad angry, I pulled out Everlee’s things and put it with hers. More things I was never meant to see my baby in. When I went through that box before I had Thomas I had forgotten what the outfit even looked like, tears stung my eyes as I grabbed it, it had hot air balloons with rainbows on it.
We sprinkled little things with hot air balloons on it through out his nursery, to honor the baby we lost. The baby we thought was our rainbow.
And as I had gone through Everlee’s things I had found a pack of newborn diapers I had bought in preparation for her. Three years ago. Before she was born. Before we suffered from secondary infertility. Before we lost baby Joy. Before I had my dream with the hot air balloon.
Before Thomas was born I finally decided it was time to open these diapers I had been hanging onto. I had numerous thoughts of giving them to my many friends who had babies between these years, but I never could. They were meant for Everlee and even just unused diapers I couldn’t give them up. So I finally did. And do you know what I found on them. A pattern of rainbow colored hot air balloons. I was so struck by this. This was years prior to my miscarriage. But here they were as if these diapers were somehow apart of this journey that lead me here.
So that’s how we honored baby Joy today. Thomas wore the outfit. Wore the diapers. And I sat and told him about this baby, as I often tell him about Everlee, we talked of baby Joy today and the hot air balloons that grace his room.
A year ago today, I had felt as hopeless as I ever would in my journey after Everlee. Completely defeated. Completely lost. Confused. And Heartbroken as I went home to wait to miscarry a baby I so desperately wanted but somehow my body had failed to see how my heart needed that child. It was unfair. It was lonely. My world stopped again as it had back when Everlee died.
And now today, I honor the baby that was part of my journey. The baby that was loved and wanted. The baby that gave us joy when our path had been so dark.
My heart still wonders about that baby. My mind still asks what if…. but my heart does feel happy when I look at Thomas today. Wearing the outfit I didn’t think would ever get worn. Our hope wasn’t all lost. I’m thankful I didn’t completely give up on hope. I’m thankful we found Joy again.