Today is Día de los Muertos, and on this special day, we honor those who we have lost. We allow their spirits to come back and be with us for a day. It’s a very meaningful day, and it can also be somewhat hard on some. But that’s not what today is about. It’s about celebrating their life and, in a way, allowing them to live again for a brief period of time. And it’s a sentimental day for myself having lost my first child.

I, unlike others who have had to bear the burden of losing their child after they were born, had a miscarriage. I know it’s not uncommon, and I know that it doesn’t translate into me not being able to have a child. But for a while, that was something I thought was possible. When I was going through that experience, there were so many things that ran through my mind. And I know that other women out there are experiencing it too.

So, in honor of Día de los Muertos, I’d like to clear the air in a sense. I’d like those who have lost something that means so much that it’s not even explainable to be able to have some inner peace. To have closure, acknowledgment, or whatever else they need so that they can truly celebrate their child that was lost on this day and every day. Because that’s the meaning behind today. To remember those we lost so that they can be with us in spirit. Or else we risk their memory and spirit being lost forever.

Dear Child

Dear Child, I want you to know how much I loved you from the very start. I want you to know that even though I felt scared, that I also felt ready. I want you to know that I tried and would’ve kept trying to do anything and everything I could to provide you with the resources you need. Though I never really knew you, I feel as though I know everything there is to know about you. I still imagine what words we would be speaking to each other, what accomplishments you would’ve made, the arguments and tantrums we would’ve shared.

It’s all a part of me. The parts of you that never came to be is a part of my being and it always will be. You will forever be my first child. You the reason why I do any sort of job involving children. You’re often times my motivation for moving forward and my reasoning for not giving up. And yet I never even met you. I want you to know I’m sorry. I’m sorry for things not working out. I’m sorry that I couldn’t give you the home and the resources that you needed. But I also want to say thank you. Thank you for teaching me how to be strong. Thank you for teaching me to always try my hardest and even more for showing me that it’s okay when things don’t work out.

I love you and I will always remember you – every November 2nd and every day in between.

Dear Self

Dear self, I want you to know how much I love you. I want you to know that it’s all going to be okay. You’re trying, and that’s all anyone in this world is really doing. I know it feels like the world doesn’t understand and you don’t understand the world either. I know it hurts that time doesn’t stop to let you grieve, and I know it hurts more that no one else can grieve your loss with you. It’s confusing now, all of it. Trust me, I get it. You’ll ask the question “Why?” over and over again, but there is no answer. There is only time. Time to try again, time to get stronger and wiser. And the ironic part is you will only understand in time.

My Story

It was two months before my 21st birthday. I’d missed my period. It wasn’t anything to think of really because I had switched birth controls a couple times before and it made my timing a little off. It wasn’t until I was about a week and a half late when I started to notice my boobs feel tender. This part was something to think of. So I went and bought a test and positive it read. Excitement wasn’t the first feeling I had. More like scared, dumbfounded, ready to wake up from a dream. I cried. My boyfriend and I hadn’t been in a relationship long when I found out, so I was unsure.

I didn’t even have time to get a doctor’s appointment before one sort of fell into my lap. It was right before my birthday at this point and my boyfriend and I had only told his Mom about the pregnancy. I was working at a frozen yogurt shop and had to go make change at the bank, just like every Friday. It’s probably a good place to mention that I had also had health complications of my own. I was diagnosed with Juvenile Myoclonic Epilepsy as well as Neurocardiogenic Syncope (story for another day).

My syncope condition caused me to faint a lot, so it was no surprise that when I was getting change at the bank, I had an episode. When I woke up, I had split my chin open and broken 3 of my teeth. I only needed 4 stitches for my chin and it was not the first time I had chipped a tooth. When I was in the ER, I ended up making a doctor’s appointment to follow up with my pregnancy. That was when the doctor told me she heard a heartbeat.

When Everything Changed

I started making choices to be healthier. I started researching. Like any girl who’d imagined being a mother for her whole life, I was consumed by this little baby inside of me. But at 10 weeks, no more heartbeat. I can’t explain how understating it I am when I say I was crushed. It felt like my own heart had been ripped from my chest. It actually felt like my chest wanted to collapse. No more child. No more planning and researching and being consumed by it. Well, at least not in a good way. That’s it? There’s nothing we can do? Just tell me that and send me on my way?

Nope. I was still in for a little more of a ride than I thought I was signing up for. About a week after the bad news I had a check up with my doctor. My body wasn’t doing what it was supposed to and it was looking like a D&C would be what we needed. You’ve gotta be f**king kidding me, is all I could think. Why me? What did I do to deserve this? Well, I don’t know if it was for better or worse, but before I made it to the D&C, my body finally realized what needed to be done. I’ll spare you the worst part of my story, but I will say that I still remember what it felt like that day and I don’t know if I’ll ever forget it.

Why?

Why am I even saying all of this anyway you might be asking? Well, because not enough women do. Not enough women talk about their experience, and while I completely understand why, something has got to change. I think more women should know that this isn’t an uncommon occurrence and that they’re not alone. I would’ve been so grateful to have someone to talk to while I was going through that that could’ve helped normalize it for me. To help me feel like I wasn’t alone. I view women who have been through this experience like war heroes. People who have been through the trauma and reached their lowest lows but still fought their way back to themselves. People who have fought the fight no one should have to.

So if you’ve ever been through an experience like this, please know you’re really not alone. Please reach out to me, I would love to be that person that I could’ve used. I would love to help you find your strength and to remember and celebrate your little one that was lost too soon.

With all my love, Brandolyn – Earth To Momma