I closed the door to our red 2009 Toyota Corolla and couldn’t breathe. I can’t do this.
These were the words I told myself after our first fertility appointment post-loss in 2016.
Rewind with me to 2013 when I held my first daughter, Noel Christin, in my arms as she gasped for her last breath. I’ll never forget her face and the silence that filled the room. Her little lungs were screaming for help, and yet you could a pin drop. It was at this moment . . . time stopped.
If I get pregnant again, could I handle watching another child of mine die? What if I die? Or what if we’re given the news that they have a terminal condition?
What if . . .
» » » » » RELATED READ: And Just Like That . . . One Mother’s Story of Infant Loss « « « « «
Questions flooded my mind with no answer in sight. Trying to climb my way out of the unknown and barely coming up for breath before my mind ran wild again. This is pregnancy after loss. At least for me, it was.
I wasn’t the young and naïve 24 year old anymore. Now I was the woman six years her senior that was familiar with grief and the reality of having empty arms yet stretch marks that said otherwise. I lived my worst nightmare. I was familiar with bad dreams, dreams that I couldn’t escape, even after my tired eyes woke.
The war was raging. The hardest part was this internal fight. It was me against my mind. So I fought. Hard.
I started attending counseling, again. I say “again” because it’s okay to go back and ask for help. Sometimes we think we are healed, when in reality, the thing that triggers us is just our body asking for help.
I started taking antidepressants and anxiety prescription medication again. Here is that word, again. Yes, I got off and went back on prescription medication. It was what was best for me, my family, and our quality of life.
I fought my thoughts. The first two are tools (and important tools) but not a cure in my opinion. I needed to learn to replace my insecure and fearful thoughts with Bible scriptures.
Lie: My next child will most likely die because my first one did.
Truth: I may not know the future but God has good plans for me. (Jeremiah 29:11)
I would stop and audibly recite and repeat and declare these truth(s) to drown out the lies. It wasn’t easy or a quick fix. It was a habit I had to intentionally practice. And now those truths are part of my everyday thoughts. This doesn’t mean that those negative thoughts don’t creep in. They still do, but I know how to fight now.
Pregnancy after loss altered me. It helped me appreciate the strength that was within me all along–physically, mentally, and emotionally.
Originally published February 2022.
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