We decided to pick up and go. I quickly packed 2 days worth of clothes for all 4 of us. Enough swimsuits, snacks, and hotel toys for a little weekend away. My house looked like a tornado hit it when I left. Mounds of laundry in and out of baskets made up my bed. Kids’ toys were scattered from one end of the house to the next. I’m pretty sure toilets were left unflushed. As relaxing as the weekend away was I dreaded going back to the reality of a messy house and the grief we tried to run away from. As we walked in the door it was like Mary Poppins herself descended upon our house with her umbrella and large carpet bag. The house was clean! Floors were mopped, dished were done, beds were made, windows and baseboard squeaky clean, and fresh flowers waiting on the dining room table. Next to the flowers read a card “Dinner for tonight is in the fridge. Let me know if you need anything. I’m praying for you.” With tears flowing down my face my husband and I hugged and cried together. We were overflowing with emotions over the generosity of our village. The village that came around us as we mourned the loss of our unborn baby. It had only been a week and the devastation of our miscarriage hung heavy over our entire family.
I will never forget the first time I got pregnant 6 years ago and told a friend. I was only three weeks along and she told me that I shouldn’t have told her. She told me it was bad luck and that I shouldn’t tell anyone until I was at least twelve weeks pregnant. I thought then the same thing I think now. Well, that’s stupid! I’m excited and I want to shout it from the rooftops. What if I do lose this baby? Won’t I want the support? I will never keep my pregnancy a secret from the people I love.
This past loss was devastating. We saw our baby in an ultrasound. That little heartbeat was powerful. Then the day we were supposed to get another ultrasound and share the pictures with our loved ones we sat in the doctor’s office looking at an ultrasound of nothing. No more baby and no more heartbeat. My friend had come to pick up our kids so my husband and I could go to the doctor together. When I called to tell her I was done she picked up the phone and said, “You two go home and rest. I will bring your kids home sometime later tonight. They will be fed and happy.” I told her I was pregnant the day I peed on the stick. After a day of sitting in silence, the doorbell rang and it was food delivered from our favorite taco place. A text came a moment later from another friend telling us to enjoy dinner: I had told this friend I was pregnant the day after we went to the doctor to confirm the pregnancy. For over two weeks we had friends and family reaching out to us, bringing us meals, sending chocolate and flowers, coming over for coffee, caring for us emotionally, and taking care of our kids when I wasn’t strong enough.
This is why I believe in telling friends and family about your pregnancy during the “bad luck” time. I can’t imagine going through the pain of losing our baby alone. We are not meant to do life alone. Maybe you are not the “shouting it from the rooftops person,” but tell a few close people. Tell people who you want to be there for you if you, unfortunately, deal with a loss like ours. Tell people who you want to cry with because crying alone is just as hard as the loss itself. People say that when life gives you lemons to make lemonade. My friends decided to give me an entire lemon tree. They brought over a lemon tree for our family to plant together. A reminder of our precious baby. A reminder to always make lemonade.