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I’m writing this in 2014, with two beautiful daughters at home, but my first experience with adding a child to our family was terrible. In 2006, our baby boy decided to arrive way too early and did not survive, Our first pregnancy ended in a miscarriage.
It’s part of our story and won’t be forgotten. I remember many of the details from that day, the following days and the associated feelings at those exact times. That’s probably why they are so vivid – even 8 years later. We remember how moments made us feel.
I remember getting the call that my wife had to go to the hospital, I remember the stillbirth and holding my dead boy – in one hand. It’s an image I can’t get out of my head. It’s emotional to even write this.
When we went home – just my wife and I alone – I think I laid in bed for days. We grieved for the boy we didn’t even know.
Today, every once in a while I hear of somebody having a rough pregnancy, they might miscarry or just did. I feel terrible for them. Their story brings back my own feelings and emotions. I even cry.
I feel like I can relate, though I don’t know what to say to them besides that “I’m sorry.”
Losing a child is something nobody should have to go through, but if it happens, we can continue to write our story going forward.
Today, my daughters are healthy and fun – for the most part. I love them and have high hopes for them. That doesn’t mean that his death isn’t part of our story. It is. I’m reminded of that when I hear other similar stories.
I hope my story might inspire them and give them hope. If not today, maybe tomorrow.