Madelyn Marie’s story 💜** This is a story of loss and grief. It’s ok if you can handle reading it emotionally! **
I’ve never known a grief like this. I’ve said good bye to aunts and uncles and a grandma but losing a child is something different altogether. It truly is the meaning of tragedy, heartbreak, and pain. Is like to be vulnerable and push forward and share this tender journey with you. I’m not sharing because I need words of comfort or wisdom or anything of that sort, but because I’ve learned what it means to love deeply and to lose, and because I think this is a very brave step I need to take for my own healing. I’ve been afraid to even speak my babies name in front of friends lest i break down and cry.
But my angel baby is real. She is alive in heaven. She is worthy of being honored and treasured and spoken of no different than my babies here on earth. She is a part of my soul forever engrained and never forgotten.
This Mother’s Day marked almost two months since I gave birth to a baby who had no heartbeat, and I think it’s time to share. ** trigger warning** I don’t want to make anyone too sad or what not but I want to be open and honest.
It started out a lovely pregnancy! It was easier than my other two and I had less morning sickness but it was still there. Often times for whatever odd reason all I could smell was onions and it was terrible!
I spent many days day-dreaming of life with 3 beautiful girls, sharing sisterhood, something I never had. I would imagine what it looked like to bathe three tiny humans at the same time, how I would arrange the bedrooms and who would sleep where. I would hold Norah at night in the rocking chair while she was sleeping just dreaming of this new baby, and all the ways I could decorate and make her a beautiful space in our home. She was treasured the moment we knew we were pregnant. She is our baby and we love her.
I had spent the previous weekend in California with one of my best friends celebrating her beautiful baby at her shower who was 5 weeks ahead of mine. We played in the waves at Huntington Beach and I felt healthy as ever, no idea that I’d already lost the baby inside me. My body didn’t say a thing. And I am oh so thankful for those last memories of being pregnant with Madelyn.
The following Tuesday, the night before our prenatal appointment, I was putting the girls to bed and my sweet Juliette said the most interesting thing. She looked at my bird tattoo and said, “that’s the mama bird and those are her babies.” My tattoo has one large sparrow and four small sparrows flying behind it. It resonated with me that entire evening and gave me peace. I had a miscarriage before Juliette was conceived the same day I got a positive pregnant test. The day before Mother’s Day 2012. I felt like my birds were representing all 4 of my babies. I finally accepted in my heart that Madelyn would be my last baby and our home would be full. I finally let go and accepted that I’d give every last ounce of me to Madelyn, that I’d give up my dream of one day having a little boy and have complete peace over my three beautiful daughters. My husband talked and prayed and found peace together in it with no clue what the next morning held.
Wednesday morning we woke up and rushed out the door for our 9 AM prenatal just like we always had. We started the appointment talking about birth photographers and laughing and chatting with our midwife as always. My weight gain was fine, my blood pressure was perfect as always.
Then she went to listen for the heartbeat.
I laughed it off that it took her a little while and said, “oh she must be super wiggly and running away from you today!”
She took out her lap top ultrasound machine and there was Madelyn. Tiny. With no heartbeat. I didn’t believe it though, I held onto hope that it was just a fluke.
After all, I was 22 weeks pregnant, how could that possibly be real?
We went and got coffee cuz it happened and my dear friend came and grabbed the girls. Micahs mom rushed up from Vancouver to come help.
It was all a blur. Going too fast. Every step from here on out felt like a sick twisted nightmare. How could this be real?
It was raining and gray out that day. Fitting for the way we felt. We went to another medical building for a professional ultrasound and they said she had grown as big as a 17 week old baby. “I’m so sorry for your loss”
Those words in which I never thought I’d hear for myself but only say to others. Those words were awful and filled me with anger and irritated me. They did not mean enough and they did not feel empathetic. I just wanted my baby. I just kept wishing I’d wake up. Please God please let this be a bad dream.
Why me? Why Madelyn? What did I do wrong?
We then chose to head the hospital. It was time. I couldn’t bear the thought of waiting at home for labor to stop considering I had no clue when she had passed, it could’ve been up to 4 weeks prior. I was sick at the thought of a dead baby sitting inside of me, while at the same time not wanting to let her go. She was mine after all, a person is a person no matter how small.
Being in the hospital was scary mostly because I shouldn’t have been there. I should’ve gone home from my prenatal visit full of bliss and innocence like many of my other pregnant friends this year.
I started medicine to induce labor that Wednesday afternoon and was twisted sick with emotions. So much crying. Deep, awful, ugly crying. Gasping for air and just wanting to wake up, my husband crying along side me. We hardly slept as we waited for labor. But my body didn’t want to let go either. My body wanted to hold onto hope and hold on to that pregnancy as long as it could. Every fiber of my being loved that tiny little girl.
I was thankful for the floods of support, parents who came up to visit, and phone calls, messages and flowers and gifts we received. I treasured each one and really felt like we were being held together on a wave of prayer through all of it. I don’t know if I’d ever been so supported or lifted up on my entire life.
It’s amazing that even though I’ve moved hours away from my hometown I felt treasured and loved and cared for by people who meant so much.
Thursday around 11 pm the labor pains started getting stronger and hit me like a wave.
I was so unprepared for this. I didn’t know what to expect or what to do. I wasn’t ready, I was afraid, what would she look like? Why does this have to happen?
I tried to be strong and I tried to give her my best but when the nurse said, “it’s ok, you can get in the birthing tub if you like.” I broke. I couldn’t do it. With each contraction came a flood of tears and I just wanted them to stop. Please stop baby, please don’t go.
I opted for pain medicine and felt relief from only the physical and soon after started bleeding. She was born promptly after around 1 AM Friday morning.
We spent the entire night with her in our room. We held her. We sang to her. We got her fingerprints.
Micah had his one and only father daughter dance with our sweet sweet Madalyn.
She was beautiful. Her lips were just like Juliette’s and she would’ve looked just like her sisters. She was tiny, oh so tiny.
I will never forget the beauty of our daughter Madelyn. Our sweet angel who’s being cared for in heaven. I’ll never understand it, but I’ll always honor her. Nothing will replace the ache in my heart for her. It’s a love I’ve never known. A part of our family is missing and even two months we feel that weight every single day.
The days following have been a roller coaster to say the least. There’s been grief and joy, fights and deep cries, as a couple it’s a bond like no other.
When you realize how quickly life can disappear, in the blink of an eye we could lose our children or each other, you never what day is yours to die. When those realizations hit and you turn them to Jesus it’s as if you all can do is give thanks and pray to love deeper. Every day is a treasure. God has given me so much beauty here on earth He has given me life.
Sure, theology can get messy, marriages come with their own aches, and every family has their issues.
But I will choose to remember how precious life and to love even when I don’t want to.
My baby is alive and she is in heaven, I will choose joy and peace today, I will choose to trust my God through this storm.
There are tons of feelings, emotions, and thoughts that I can’t even begin to process or write in a simple blog post. I wanted to share this because I want to heal, and because this is a birth story no matter how hard. She was a living being and she is worthy of remembering and celebrating. I will not hold her in my arms but she will be held in my heart forever.
Thank you to everyone who has supported me through this 💜 Just being a good friend is what has meant more anything than through this time.
“Even those that never fully blossom bring beauty into the world.” – author unknown
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