Why I didn't post on Pregnancy and Infant Loss Remembrance Day
Pregnancy and Infant Loss Remembrance Day is every year on October 15th. It is a day to acknowledge the 1 in every 4 women who have either suffered from a miscarriage or loss of an infant. Although I have always been very open with my fertility journey and loss of our son, Preston, every time I revisit that time and those memories, all of the most intense and difficult feelings that I have so defensively buried, creep up and tear me to pieces.
I do believe that women sharing their stories about infertility, miscarriage, and infant loss is important in breaking the stigma that it is something to keep hidden or be ashamed of. I am active in online fertility groups where I have corresponded with many women about infertility, use of a gestational carrier, and challenges of having micro-preemies. But I still have a really hard time traveling back and having the wounds from infant loss surface again. Further, I think crazy things like, if I post about this people are going to think I just want their pity, or that I am posting for attention, or acting like a victim. It is a raw and sensitive topic and the internet can be a harsh place, thus my hesitation to share.
The truth is life does go on, but the pain and sadness stays nestled in your heart. My amazing four children and my surprise pregnancy are things I never take for granted and appreciate every day, but they do not negate the wondering I have about my son Preston and what he would be like if I still had him here with me today.
So what sparked this sudden urge to share? On Pregnancy and Infant Loss Remembrance Day I saw on social media many people post and share their stories, experiences and heartfelt messages about the topic. I did feel bad that I had not posted anything, but I did’t feel like I had my thoughts properly gathered and didn’t want to just slap something up there, just because. The posts did make me think a lot about our son, our experience, and our overall journey. I also felt a bit guilty for not sharing, like I was not paying my son proper tribute by not acknowledging him. Now feel free to think I am total nut, but that night in bed I felt someone holding my hand, it was that stage of sleep where you are half asleep and kind of dreaming, but aware that you are dreaming. The feeling felt SO real to me, I opened my eyes and looked thinking maybe it was my husband or one of the kids had woken up, but no one’s hand was there. Or should I say, not physically there, but I really believe he was there. Throughout the night I kept getting the sensation that someone was holding my hand. In my heart I believe it was my son reassuring me that he knew that I hadn’t forgotten about him and that he is always with me.
Interestingly enough one of my favorite pictures is one I took of me holding Preston’s tiny perfect hand when he was in the hospital.
What this experience has taught me is how incredibly important it is to show all people compassion, and to avoid making assumptions about people and their lives.
To the women who lose their pregnancies, to the women who lose their infants, to the women who make the hard decision to let someone else raise their babies, to the women whose circumstances result in the decision to not bring their babies into this world, may you always be treated with love, support, and understanding on this day and always.
Every loss and experience holds purpose, if forcing myself to be vulnerable and share this piece of my heart helps just one person feel seen, understood, or supported then it is absolutely worth it.
With all my empathy,
Nicole
Written in memory of Preston Charles 9/25/13-10/6/13
