Goodbye Little One. For now.

This post is about infertility and perinatal loss. I’ve experienced both, making this post a bit difficult to write. I will share information from the article “Crucibles and Healing: Illness, Loss, Death, and Bereavement”, by W. David Robinson, Jason S. Carroll, and Elaine Sorenson Marshall (Hawkins, et al., pgs. 237-248), as well as information from an online article published by Brigham Young University’s School of Family Life entitled “Coping with Grief in Perinatal Loss”. (https://foreverfamilies.byu.edu/Pages/challenges/Coping-with-Grief-in-Perinatal-Loss.aspx)

You may ask how I dealt with infertility when I have three children. We were blessed with a child who came into the world just nine months and one week to the day after we were married, the honeymoon baby. However, for the next twelve years, we couldn’t conceive another child. We wanted more children but were seemingly unable to have more. There were many visits to the doctor. Tests and procedures were done, only to be told there was no medical reason for our inability to conceive. 

This was a trial that wore on our relationship as husband and wife. It was emotionally taxing, and the physical intimacy that is part of a normal married life became a chore, rather than a joy. It was very disheartening. Those twelve years good years for our little family, but they were always overshadowed by the fact that we couldn’t have another child. I’m not going to say much more than that. Our experience with infertility is different than it is for those who are never able to have a child, but that doesn’t make the experience any less difficult. 

Then, for reasons we don’t know or understand, we were finally blessed with another child. Oh, the joy. I cannot tell you how happy we were. 

Two years after the birth of our second child, I become pregnant again, only to lose that child late in the first trimester. A year after that, another pregnancy that ended in miscarriage. Why? Only the Lord knows. I think it is important to understand that for most cases, perinatal loss is no one’s fault. It is a part of mortality. Generally, there are no answers as to why.

Going through all those years with out a pregnancy was hard, but nothing like losing a child to miscarriage. I don’t think I can explain it well enough for others to understand. I really believe you have to experience it to know the feelings that accompany that loss, not that I would ever wish that on anyone. The first miscarriage was more difficult to deal with emotionally that physically. My body recovered quickly, but my heart still hurts for that loss. The second miscarriage felt more difficult physically than emotionally. I think that was due to the fact that the pregnancy never got past the tiny cluster of cells that indicates a new life being formed. There was never a heartbeat, unlike the first miscarriage. It was easier to get over the loss of a clump of cells that it was to get over the tiny little boy that fit in the palm of my hand with his ten fingers and ten toes, not fully formed, but definitely a human child.

Loss is a part of mortality. We know that. Mourning and grieving those losses are also natural part of this life. Mourning the loss of a child that is lost before birth is often a little harder. As Robinson, Carroll, and Marshall state, “Societal acknowledgements of perinatal loss are noticeably absent. There is often no memorial service and respite from the usual life and work expectation of family members…The influence of perinatal loss on family life cannot be overstated. The development of a lifelong grief response to the loss, filled with comfort and coupled with sorrow may be more realistic and fulfilling than the myth that parents should just ‘get over it’.” (Hawkins, et al., pg. 243) This is truth, as least from my own experience. 

The article “Coping with Grief in Perinatal Loss”, counsels to reach out to friends and family as part of the grieving process and talking about with them. Before I has my miscarriages, I never new what to say to someone who had lost a pregnancy. I simply didn’t know what would bring comfort. Now I know that just being able to share and talk with someone who is willing to listen is one of the best things that can happen to someone who has gone through this loss.

I was surprised to find out how many women around me had experienced this. After my first miscarriage, I discovered just how many women in at church I now share this connection with. They comforted me in ways I can’t even express. While my husband and I mourned together and comforted each other through the loss, having those women share my mourning made a huge difference.

I want to share one more thing that helped me and my family through perinatal loss more than anything else. It is our understanding of the Plan of Salvation and the Atonement of our Savior. The Proclamation tells us “The divine plan of happiness enables family relationships to be perpetuated beyond the grave. Sacred ordinances and covenants available in holy temples make it possible for individuals to return to the presence of God and for families to be united eternally.” (¶ 3) I have absolute faith in this. I also know that when the Savior suffered in Gethsemane, he bore every grief and sorrow that we might feel in this life. My faith in Him, and in the resurrection that comes through His power over death, brings me great joy and peace, even as I mourn the loss of two little ones who never drew breath and lived. 

As Robinson, Carroll and Marshall put it, "A family crucible perspective grounded in the restored gospel provides a guiding lens through which we can more fully understand and appreciate how individuals and families are influenced and transformed by experiences with illness and disability, death and bereavement, and other profound experiences with adversity and loss. Such expanded understanding helps us to realize more full the two greatest resources of healing in this life: the gospel of Jesus Christ and our families." (Hawkins, et al., pg. 245)