Emotionally Pregnant: Pregnancy After Loss Support

I’m over at Pregnancy After Loss Support today talking about the emotions of being pregnant after loss, even if you’re not the one carrying the baby. Here’s a snippet:

“Pregnancy after loss—in whatever form it takes—can turn into a daily 12-step program filled with decisions to protect your heart while opening your mind to the possibilities.”

You can check out the full post here. I’d love to hear your thoughts.

*Photo credit

Permission to Parent: Pregnancy After Loss Support

nowhining_croppedI’m over at Pregnancy After Loss Support today talking about the challenges of parenting after loss, and the battle between feeling grateful and getting frustrated. Here’s a snippet:

“Parenting after loss is an oxymoron of emotions, and some days it feels like I’m the one being the moron.”

You can check out the full post here. I’d love to hear your thoughts.

Leaving Home

moving-tools-2-1529662-1280x960Today, I go from a city dweller to a suburbanite, and while I’m extremely excited about moving, there’s a part of me that doesn’t want to go. It isn’t that I’m leaving the buzz of city life for the quiet of the suburbs. It’s that I’m leaving my home where we found out we were pregnant. Where we found out we weren’t. And where we finally got to bring our boys home.

It’s where we celebrated and where we grieved.

In the nine years we’ve lived here, we’ve experienced such a wide array of joy and sorrow, as I’d imagine is true of many people living in one spot for a long time. This home has been a gathering spot for family and friends for holidays, BBQs and Super Bowl extravaganzas. And it has been a safe sanctuary for Double A and me when we need to be alone, together.

I know that home is where you make it, and I know we’ll be happy in our new house. But leaving here feels like I’m leaving a connection to Baby K, Sarah, Benjamin, and those we never met. I guess it is more a reminder of the times. I look around and I see the path from our bedroom where my water broke, and curl up on the couch in the exact spot where I had to make the first call after losing Baby K. I stand in the dining room where the doctor called to say that the amnio results on the twins came back perfectly normal, and walk out the door where we knew everything was not.

These experiences are the only physical connections I have Baby K, Sarah, Benjamin, and those we never met. I’ll never get to see them take their first step. Go to school. Or get married. There’s so little physical evidence that they existed, so it feels like I have to hold onto these just a little bit tighter.

These seem like painful reminders, and they are. But they are also part of limited experiences I had with those children. Of course there are positive memories as well. Like the floor outside the bathroom where Double A and I laid waiting for the results of that first pregnancy test. Or opening the front door to his parents after just finding out we were pregnant for the second time without wanting to give it away. And standing at the counter when we got the call we were matched with BB, or in the kitchen when I told Double A that I was pregnant with Little Guy.

I realize these memories—good and bad—will always be a part of me, no matter where I live. So maybe leaving the physical “here” is just another part of this ongoing and ever-changing grieving process. In the end, we may leave some aspects behind, but as long as we keep telling it, the story is still the sum of its parts.

*Photo credit.

Stories We Tell. 7 Came Before You: Pregnancy After Loss Support

heartsun_Mayur-Gala_croppedI’m over at Pregnancy After Loss Support today talking about the challenges of telling Baby Boy and Little Guy the story of their siblings who came before them. Here’s a snippet:

“Keeping these stories secret wouldn’t be fair to them, or their siblings. Part of it is simply the notion of talking about death to kids. But deeper than that, how do you talk about death, when you can’t share about their life?”

You can check out the full post here. I’d love to hear your thoughts.

*Photo credit.

You Can Always Adopt: Pregnancy After Loss Support

hand-in-hand-1428232I’m over at Pregnancy After Loss Support today with some thoughts on the emotional side of deciding to adopt after loss. Here’s a snippet:

“The notion of ‘You can always adopt,’ makes it seem like it is an easy process, both emotionally, and on the pocketbook. I’m here to say it’s not. But that shouldn’t necessarily dissuade you.”

You can check out the full post here. I’d love to hear your thoughts.

*Photo credit.

The World is Listening to Mark Zuckerberg, But Not for What You Think

Mark Zuckerberg is no stranger to being in the news, with the press often scrutinizing his every move. But today, Mr. Zuckerberg and his wife Priscilla Chan sought out the public by announcing that they are pregnant. Pregnant after surviving three miscarriages. Sharing that, in itself, is huge, but he didn’t stop there. He went on to talk about the emotional side of loss:

“You feel so hopeful when you learn you’re going to have a child. You start imagining who they’ll become and dreaming of hopes for their future. You start making plans, and then they’re gone. It’s a lonely experience. Most people don’t discuss miscarriages because you worry your problems will distance you or reflect upon you — as if you’re defective or did something to cause this. So you struggle on your own.

So far over one million people have liked this announcement. More than 27,000 people have shared it. And that’s not including all of the media outlets who have reported on and shared it as well. What a tremendous step toward breaking the silence surrounding miscarriage and baby loss. He added:

“In today’s open and connected world, discussing these issues doesn’t distance us; it brings us together. It creates understanding and tolerance, and it gives us hope.”

It’s safe to say that when Mark Zuckerberg talks, people listen. And people talk.

Thank you, Mr. Zuckerberg for putting a spotlight on a much needed, and long overdue conversation. We hope this empowers others to speak up. We hope this helps to take away the stigma associated with loss. And we hope for a continued healthy pregnancy, safe delivery and lots of joy to come for you and your family.


Perseverance in Loss: Pregnancy After Loss Support

falldownseventimesstandupeight2I’m over at Pregnancy After Loss Support today with my first post as a monthly contributor. I’ve shared some insights on how—and why—we kept trying. Here’s a snippet:

“How do you do it?” This is a question my husband Aaron and I have often been asked over the years. It being, survive and carry on after seven losses. It being continue to try for a family with living children. It being handle each pregnancy after each loss. It being navigate the adoption process. And most recently, It being parent our 2 year old and 11 month old boys.

You can check out the full post here. I’d love to hear your thoughts, and how you do it.

*Photo credit.