“I still remember the day we had to tell the girls the baby had died. They were 7 and had been so excited about the idea of being big sisters. We had told them we were expecting at 6 weeks when we saw the heartbeat! We just couldn’t help it and never imagine something bad could happen after that. Clearly we were very naive.
We sat them down after already had been crying for hours and told them what had happened. “The baby died in mommy’s tummy. Sometimes this happens and there’s nothing we can do. But we will try again and we will have a baby!” They sobbed. We all hugged, we talked more, answered questions and went to bed. Since then there have been a lot of question. We talk about the miscarriage often and we talk about how others have had this happen too.
But I never knew how much they would be affected by it. When we told them about the baby they were excited but that night they said “what if it happens again?” I obviously reassured them but I honestly was thinking the same thing. They worry about me a lot. They get mad if I take a sip of wine. They worry if I say my back hurts or if I don’t have an appetite. They are the best helpers and never complain when they know I shouldn’t pick things up, but at the end of the day I know it’s stems from our past, from the trauma that affected them so much.
Yesterday They asked if we could go see the baby (at a private ultrasound location we’ve gone to). “Mommy we haven’t seen her in a while” I asked if they were worries and they said YES😭 The guilt flooded my mind and I wish I could go back and change things. But this is where we are. I know they’re stronger because of it, I know we are closer as a family because of it and I know they’re more educated too. I mean I didn’t even know I could miscarry until I actually did!
I’m so proud of them. But this is a constant reminder of how much a miscarriage or a loss affects the whole family and how sometimes I tend to forget that.”
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