She’d be almost three.
She was not intended, not expected. Her sudden, painful loss shook us both. Neither my husband nor I knew what to do with the knowledge that we had created a life we would never hold. We’d never hear her laughter. Never chase her through the leaves on a beautiful fall day. No memories other than that physical loss, the physical pain.
I read over some quotes about miscarriage today. I don’t like any of them. Nothing seems to say what I feel, how it feels to remember a child that I never held. Some people expect, since we weren’t trying to conceive and didn’t intend to get pregnant with our Rose that we didn’t love her, that we should somehow be glad that she left us so quickly. I never understood this line of thinking; I have loved all of my children from the moment I found out about their existence. How could I not? I don’t blame people for thinking this way but I always find myself being defensive. I have always loved and will always love the lot of my children, wherever they may be.
Perhaps, more than a quote, the song “I Will Remember You” works for me on days like today, days like her due date that was never reached, days like the day we found out about her and lost her all in the same quick breath.
I will remember you
Will you remember me
Don’t let your life pass you by
Weep not for the memories.
Still other people have said things like, “Well your younger son wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t for that loss.” Not necessarily. We got pregnant shortly after Rose’s due date. I couldn’t bring myself to try to conceive during the nine months that should have belonged to her. On her due date, I gave it all up, weeping with fear over being ready, physically and emotionally. Was it too soon to be ready? I don’t know. I do know that I was guarded, so guarded, while I was pregnant with our youngest son. I was so afraid, for so long, that we’d lose him if I took a sideways breath or drank a cup of tea. I don’t know who would and who would not be here. I do know that we chose not to let our life pass us by. We celebrate the moments we have with our boys, with the Munchkin. But there are moments, like today, when we remember all that we lost that day, that very long week.
I still don’t know why I have experienced this particular loss. I do know that I will be thinking of my friends and family who have experienced pregnancy and infant losses on this particular day. We’ll be lighting a candle tonight for our Rose, for all of the babies who have left us far too soon.
I will remember.
My name is Jenna. I blog here, 
