During a gathering on Mother’s Day, my husband, our two children, and I came across a family with four kids. My youngest, 8-year-old Lucas, paused to gaze at them, then turned to me, saying, “That could have been our family.”
As my heart ached and tears stung my eyes, I embraced him tightly. I understood his sentiment, but I struggled to articulate a response. He doesn’t truly grasp that we weren’t meant to be a family of four. In his mind, there are two siblings missing—two pregnancies I lost.
Lucas discovered the existence of these “missing children” by accident. My mother, a devoted genealogy buff, often shares our family tree, and one day, as she was displaying it to my kids, they noticed two additional “leaves” branching from my section. They read the notes regarding the two babies I had lost.
Naturally, my mother felt remorseful about the revelation. She gently explained to my children that after the birth of their sister, but before Lucas came along, I had two pregnancies that ended in miscarriage. These losses had saddened both me and my husband, which is why we hadn’t spoken of them before.
Even a decade later, discussing those experiences still brings sorrow. While I’ve become more accustomed to the grief, the weight of it occasionally resurfaces, squeezing my heart unexpectedly. Sometimes, I manage to forget, but other times, the pain re-emerges suddenly. The ache doesn’t consume my daily life anymore, but it lingers because I miss those two little ones.
My first loss occurred at the end of my first trimester. That tiny life, though brief, was cherished deeply. After long hopes of conceiving again, my husband and I were ecstatic to learn I was pregnant. We had dreams for that child, discussing names and imagining a future filled with joy alongside our daughter. But during a routine checkup, my doctor couldn’t locate a heartbeat. I broke down in tears, unable to accept this loss. My body, too, seemed reluctant to let go, holding on until it became undeniable: the baby had died.
The second loss happened early in the second trimester. After the first miscarriage, we were cautious about getting too emotionally invested in the next pregnancy, but attachment is hard to avoid. Hearing the heartbeat at our 9-week appointment filled us with hope. However, when we returned for the next checkup, silence filled the room—there was no heartbeat. My body, just like my heart, clung desperately to that little boy, but he had also passed away.
I haven’t shared the full details of these experiences with my children; they don’t need to know everything just yet. For now, they simply understand that two siblings are missing.
This reality weighs heavily on Lucas. He often remarks on families with four children, pointing out that we could have had that too. It’s difficult to convey that if those pregnancies had succeeded, he might not be here. I choose not to explain, opting instead to embrace him, sharing in that unspoken grief.
The emotional conflict is profound. I mourn the loss of my two pregnancies while grappling with guilt for what those losses mean. Had either pregnancy concluded successfully, my beloved son might never have existed. This sweet boy, who brings joy and purpose to my life, is a constant reminder of the complicated nature of love and loss.
When the weight of these emotions becomes overwhelming, I envision my lost pregnancies as my son’s determination to join our family. I like to think he fought to be here, persevering until the time was right.
Lucas still expresses a desire for those two missing children. He occasionally asks if I plan to have another baby, generously offering to share his room if it’s a boy or his sister’s room if it’s a girl. I simply hold him close and reassure him, “Our family is perfect just the way it is.”
And indeed, it is. It has to be. With my two children here on earth and the two missing little ones—my angels—watching over us. For further insights on pregnancy and home insemination, resources such as What to Expect When You Have Your First IUI can be invaluable, while exploring options like the BabyMaker Home Insemination Kit might help those looking to expand their families.
Summary
Addressing the topic of miscarriage with children can be challenging. As parents navigate their grief, it’s important to communicate in a way that helps children understand the concept of loss while also celebrating the family they have. This article provides insight into how to approach such sensitive subjects, reinforcing the importance of acknowledging both the joy and sorrow in family life.
Leave a Reply