In a few days I would’ve been 16 weeks pregnant with you. Instead, I write to you in heaven. I don’t have the right words to explain how empty I feel without you or how your sweet, perfect face will never leave my mind.
We started losing you on Friday, but we didn’t know it yet. Your heartbeat was strong + you were wiggling around happily in there, but I was bleeding. My body was betraying us both. Saturday was a celebration of family + friends, + now I realize, it was also a celebration of you – the idea of you. Seeing all the kids playing together in the yard, I had the best visions of you + your brother in years to come. I knew we picked a good home, in that moment.
That evening though, I knew something was wrong. I awoke on Sunday to more clotting + blood. This time the cramps were laborious. At around 11AM I had to pour a bath and labor on all fours while I swayed through the contractions. I was still praying it would all just stop. It did, a few cruel times, until it did not.
I arranged for two incredible women, whom love your brother so much – to come to the house. I knew I’d feel better about leaving with them here, but I also felt that leaving meant making it real. Once a miscarriage starts though, there’s not much that can be done, if anything, to stop it. Dustin helped me labor for a bit, squeezing my hips in between packing us a bag, but when I got out of the tub and dressed…when I tried to stand, all of my hopes, all of my prayers, they stopped. They were gone in that moment when my water broke. I knew, that was the end. I knew there was no way I was coming home with you safely tucked inside of me.
When your water breaks, everything intensifies. When mine breaks, it gushes and so I lose fluid almost all at once. It makes the contractions big and extremely painful. I thought we needed an ambulance because I just couldn’t get off the floor. Dustin + one of the women watching Tucker encouraged me to the car, they knew it was the much faster route to the ER. God gave me two moments of peace on the way there, I felt calm + safe between only two contractions on the car ride. Dustin broke a number of laws, I’m sure, because we were there so quickly. A nurse somehow got me in a wheelchair + wheeled me to a room where I got some glorious pain medication before they wheeled me up to OB to pass Lana. To birth my 16 week old, little girl.
Neither of us were prepared to find her alive, but her heartbeat was faint and she was in the canal. There was a chance she’d be alive for a moment in this world, that knowledge somehow tore us to pieces even further. She wasn’t though. At around 8PM I birthed her in what seemed like one impossibly easy push, but there was no movement in her tiny body.
They allowed us to hold her, to spend time with her, to memorize every tiny detail. They gave us a box of mementos with tiny foot prints + sent us home. Now we grieve.
We love you, so much, sweet girl. We miss you in a way that impossible to convey. We know God had bigger plans for you, you were too good for this world.
Love, Mommy + Daddy
Lana measured 13 weeks, small. With my continuous bleeding throughout the pregnancy, it’s likely the placenta may not have made a full seal. It’s hard to know exactly what happened, we are at peace with that. We are grieving the loss of a child, but we are not reaching for answers to impossible questions. We declined further genetic testing.