When #2 is really #3

I’m a numbers person.  I like to make decisions knowing the risk, even though I tend to look toward the positive chances, no matter how small.  I’m an optimist, but also a numbers person.  For an example, I look at the chances of 1 in 5… and in most situations it’s worth the risk.  I change the ratio, looking to percentages, and determine how much 20% will really alter my perspective. 

Would you play a game if you only had a 20% chance of losing?  Of course! But what if I told you that 20% chance of loss could be absolutely devastating; a soul-crushing experience that would leave you broken? Would you change your mind?

1 in 5 pregnancies will end in a miscarriage.

One of the harshest experiences of my entire life happened last November, when waves of pain wracked my body and we flew to the emergency room.  Hours later, my husband and I quietly drove home to spend the next few weeks mourning the loss of a baby we would never get to meet in this life.

When I was pregnant with Henry, miscarriage was a fear, but one that was more of a myth than a reality.  My grandmother had five pregnancies followed by five healthy babies.  My mother had the same experience with her five pregnancies.  I had no idea the miscarriage statistics when I was pregnant the first time, but 20% chance of miscarriage made my family history the abnormality.

It has taken a long time to heal.  I’ve tried to write about it time and time again, but the words would get stuck and each post would end up in the trash. 

Time passes.

The beautiful thing about time is that it can bring peace slowly and carefully; you’re oblivious to your healing, until one day you sit up and realize you are okay.  I will always have a missing piece from my heart for baby #2… but that’s something I've discovered many mothers can understand. 

“There may be pain in the night, but joy comes in the morning”

A baby born after a miscarriage, stillbirth or infant death is known as a ‘rainbow baby.’  Tim and I are expecting our own little rainbow baby this October and while we are beyond blessed and excited, this pregnancy has been so very different than that of Henry’s.  I have been plagued by nightmares and anxiety attacks before my OB appointments; holding my breath until my doctor finds that beautiful, hurried heartbeat.  At eleven weeks, the chances of miscarriage are drastically reduced to less than 1%, but crossing that milestone (when we lost baby #2) was necessary before we could spread the news beyond our immediate family.

I’ve reached 22 weeks, and while the morning sickness is gone and the bump is highly visible, I still wake up in the middle of the night and wait to feel a small flutter in my abdomen before I can fall back asleep.  Every kick has turned into a small celebration and even Tim has had a few chances to feel this beautiful little peanut roll around in his or her comfy home.  This baby is so loved and I pray every night that we get the chance to meet a happy, healthy baby in October. 

“God puts rainbows in the clouds so that each of us – in the dreariest and most dreaded moments – can see a possibility of hope.” 

~Maya Angelou