On miscarriage

By Katy Miller | Jan 02, 2021

To be fair, anyone who doesn't want to read about my real life and the stuff I'm dealing with...look elsewhere.

I went back and forth about being this open. I've taken some hits from people I loved about continuing to talk about this. But I'm always brought back to the many, many people who have reached out saying my openness has helped them in some way, and to me, that's more important.

One of my assignments in therapy was to write a letter to the babies I lost, so here is the one I wrote to Sophie.

Dear Sophie,

Today marks a year since you lost your life, and I almost lost mine. I want you to know that a day doesn’t go by where I’m not in some way reminded of you, or think of you and your beautiful soul, wherever you may be now.

Your birthday was supposed to be on the first day of summer, June 20. Today, you would have been 5 1/2 months old. We planted a rose bush next to the swing set so you could run and play, and so we could always have something to remember you by.

Selfishly, I wish you were here. This year has been my hardest year yet, hopefully the hardest I’ll ever have.

You see, after I lost you, I became brave enough to try again, despite losing you, despite COVID-19, despite how hard I was working. I was looking for happiness in a world filled with uncertainty. I was looking for hope that would make me feel whole again.

Unfortunately, we lost your sister too. It wasn’t as traumatic, in fact, quite the opposite. It was so smooth that I felt awkward being sad and disappointed. I was so busy with work, trying to sell lobsters for your dad and real estate picking up, Emma and Olivia being homeschooled, that I went through the motions and stood strong to hold everything together.

I fell apart in the parking lot before I went into the hospital as thoughts rolled through my head of dying alone, because no one was allowed to come with me, and death was close with the last miscarriage. Emma in the back crying for me not to go didn’t help, that as I feel younger children are closer to the spiritual world. Your dad tried to comfort me the best he could through his own sadness and having to drop his wife off at the doors…stupid COVID-19.

We tell ourselves things to help the pain of it. This soul wasn’t ready for earth, there’s a reason for everything, there’s always something positive out of the negative.

When I truly fell apart and my body wouldn’t let me work anymore, or be able to live my life without a constant anxiety and panic so strong that I was shaking every day and so physically sick, all I felt I could do was deal with all of the pain and wonder why this was happening.

A tightness wrapped around my throat, heaviness in my chest, not able to eat, sleep, relax or leave the house without being in a cold sweat and feeling nauseous, not knowing how to deal with a sunny day or a cloudy one, or listen to music to get me through (music has always been my best medicine) was a version of hell that I hope I never experience again. Leaving my home because I couldn’t care for my children was my worst nightmare. I never thought I would see the day I couldn’t mother my own children.

I’m a fighter, Sophie. The darkness that came over me was so strong and I can understand why so many women lose their battles with these things. I feel so deeply for them, but there was a time when I felt a blank feeling come over me that was so hopeless and scary.

I truly had to fight through days that seemed to last for a week. Looking at the clock and thinking an hour passed when it only was 15 minutes, feeling pure exhaustion when I did nothing that day to exhaust myself and not able to stay awake past 5 p.m. I fought with all I had to tell myself that this would pass, that there are better days even when I had no idea what would happen.

Faith. I understand now what that means.

I’m still learning how to take care of myself. That’s the biggest gift that this journey brought me. I’ve never really taken care of myself or put myself first. For so long, it was about finding my place in the world, figuring out where I want to be, but I ended up sacrificing for men, for Olivia trying so hard to just find home for us. I’ve been all about hard work for so long that I never learned how to put myself first.

Learning how important it is to find home led me to real estate. My love for children and showing your dad that led me to Emma. I wanted more so badly and in time, that brought me you. You and your sister brought me the gift of loving myself.

I wouldn’t have made it through some really tough days if I didn’t listen to myself and love myself. I want to thank you for that. I feel you and your sister’s love for me was to make the ultimate sacrifice to teach me one of life’s most important lessons. You loved me that much.

They say babies who pass away before they are born had souls that weren’t ready for earth, that this was the path they chose, this was the path I chose before I came here, to be the carrier for this soul. Thank you for trusting me with this and for helping me. I will be forever grateful and indebted mostly to you, but also to the countless people who loved me through it.

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Comments (1)
Posted by: Richard McKusic, Sr. | Jan 06, 2021 06:11

Appreciate the vulnerability. "A burden shared is half the burden, a joy shared is twice the joy."  Old Swedish proverb that is so true.  Brought into the light the power of darkness is removed.  Some of us have been there and understand.  Life has ways of softening our heart and often it is done through pain.



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