This post is a reflection and an observation. My children continue to amaze me and the love their little hearts pour out is remarkable.
It began in February of 2012 my husband and I made the grand announcement to our boys (4 1/2 & 2 1/2) that we were expecting our 3rd baby. We were all thrilled. A family of five! The boys couldn’t be more excited. They told everyone about the baby in mommy’s belly. Even clerks at the grocery store. My heart swelled with joy and pride. In early March we told our world about our growing bit of love. We must have had 40-50 “Congratulations!” and “So excited for you!”s on that Facebook post.
The day before my 12 week check up, the worst happened. Spotting. I’d never had spotting before. I coaxed myself to sleep that might saying, sometimes spotting happens, everything will be fine. Something inside me told me it wasn’t. The next day we dropped the boys off at their great grandparents house and headed for the doctors, then the hospital. I will never forget the look on the ultrasound tech’s face. She didn’t have to say anything. There wasn’t a heartbeat. My tiny baby had died. I’ve never lost a baby before. I tried not to but the tears started and they didn’t stop. On and off I cried for what seemed like days, maybe weeks. The boys knew something was up so we pretty much told them right away that our baby had died. Our oldest cried with me. Children have such raw emotions and are also so logical and quizzing. They wanted to know why, how, and what next. I didn’t know any of those answers so I just held them tight. For the next few months, if the boys saw a baby or someone pregnant, it didn’t matter where, they would make the proclamation that “My mom had a baby in her belly, but it died.” Every time I would start to cry and the mom would be understanding but at a loss for words. I think it was just a way for the boys to understand the process. I think they needed to remind themselves of what had happened and vocalize it to make it real. I went to counseling. It helped.
After some time, we felt ready to try again. I wasn’t going down with out a fight. I would have another healthy baby, like I had so easily had two before. In November
2012, we got our wish. Pregnant. Two pink lines. A second chance at our 3rd baby. We waited before we told the boys. Everyday I came home from work, plopped in the chair in the living room, held my belly and prayed. We reached 12 weeks and told the boys. Naturally, they asked if this baby was going to die too. No, my husband and I assured them, although I was terrified. 15 weeks, 18 weeks, 22 weeks. We were all there, when another ultrasound revealed our little baby was another little boy. A healthy, baby boy.
I finally started feeling some anxiety disappear around 24 weeks. We
were going to have another healthy baby! I was right, the rest of my pregnancy was smooth, just like the first two. Two weeks after Dain turned 6 and a week before Jackson turned 4, I gave birth to healthy 8 pound 5 ounce baby boy. We couldn’t hold him close enough. We couldn’t kiss him enough. After we brought him home, the boys couldn’t be more proud. What was truly remarkable was, from the day they met their brother until now, there has been a intense love that has grown between them. It keeps growing! They know that babies can be
lost, they remember. They understand what a miracle our baby is. They love their baby brother with all their little hearts. THEY can’t hold him enough. THEY can’t kiss him enough. I have never seen two little boys who drop what they are doing to say hello to their baby brother and kiss him a dozen times on the cheeks. I realized, we aren’t the only ones who feels so incredibly blessed to have this baby boy in our lives, our children feel it too!
What I’ve learned is that children love, just as powerfully as adults do. They may
not be able to express it or they may express it in ways differently than adults. But they feel it. Their whole body feels it. I feel it when Dain reaches out to hold my hand and squeezes it. I feel it when Jackson hugs me with everything
he’s got. I feel it when Sawyer sees me, smiles, and reaches for me. Children LOVE. I think we should all allow our children to feel emotions. What if I had kept my miscarriage from my boys? What if they knew I was sad but didn’t know why? What if they didn’t understand it and I never explained it to them? Would they feel and understand emotions and love as deeply as they do now? Would they feel the intense connection they have with their baby brother like they do now?
Our beautiful boy, Sawyer, is now 10 months old. When his brothers come into the room, his face lights up. He knows. He feels it too. This remarkable, special brother love. He KNOWS how special he is. He knows how much he was wanted by all of us. I know with all my heart that these three boys have a bond. Sawyer may not know yet about the baby before him, but he is here because that baby isn’t. That’s the way it was meant to be. That’s the plan God had for us. We are thankful for that plan, we are thankful for each of our little miracles.
