Elizabeth Petrucelli

Author, Blogger, Educator

Tag: miscarriage (Page 1 of 4)

Donum Dignitatis: The Catholic’s Guide to Miscarriage

January 23, 2023 / / 0 Comments

It’s finally happening! I’m in the homestretch to completing this work. I can’t say it’s been a long time coming but it’s been in the making for over two years. Of course, the manuscript sat for quite some time until the Holy Spirit tapped me on the shoulder and was like, “hey, you going to finish this book or not?”

So I prayed about it and asked Mary for intercession on what I should do. Should I finish this book or just let it collect dust to be lost on my computer hard-drive forever? Shortly after, I received all the energy and time to finish the manuscript. I then had to make the hard decision, self-publish or look for a publisher. I prayed again, many times and felt I should submit to a publisher.

Doing so is a long and daunting process but it has brought me to my knees in prayer and humility. It’s just me. I don’t have a literary agent. I have some talent but not enough to get me published by a publishing house so I was scared to even submit the manuscript. I’d like to tell you that I was accepted after getting rejection letters from many publishers but I wasn’t.

When I tell people that the manuscript was rejected many times, they always ask why. I don’t know. They never tell you. Some ask you to submit the entire manuscript (if it’s complete) and others want snippets or one or two chapters. Some just want your idea and to submit a query or a proposal. All of this takes an immense amount of time and without paying for a literary agent, I am stuck with my own wit. Apparently, it wasn’t good enough to get noticed.

I could have taken all the rejections as a sign that the work shouldn’t be published but then I see so many women suffering through miscarriage and wondering how to handle it. I see stories of women who went to their priests who didn’t know how to help them or gave them wrong information and it breaks my heart. Every baby has dignity and deserves to be treated as if they were the most important and beloved person of a royal line. Because if you truly understood who you are, you would know you are royalty, destined for the Kingdom of God to be with Him for all of eternity. Our babies are no different, even if they died in the womb.

In March of 2022, I sent my completed manuscript to be professionally edited. My editor finished the process in April so I then sent the manuscript to people I have met along the way whom I felt might be able to help with an endorsement of my book. I also sent the book to my pastor and a few other priests that I have friendships with. I felt I needed a priestly review of the book.

It’s interesting how busy priests are because only a few were able to briefly skim the book. Most cited that I was not a parishioner so they couldn’t dedicate much time to reading it. The book is so small, I found that confusing but I understood. Those that did read it, loved the brevity and felt the information was extremely important and would help parishioners and other priests.

Because my book contains theology, I felt it needed a look over from a theologian, so I began looking for someone to read it. Any time I needed someone to read it/review it/check my content, I prayed about it and every time I received help or an answer. This was very comforting. I also sent the book to the Archdiocese of Denver. I was seeking a nihil obstat. I had seen that some books have that and not a full Imprimatur and I felt that was all I needed to ensure what I had written was theologically sound.

I received a message that the book likely didn’t need to be reviewed by a censor so I left it up to the two theologians I solicited to review the content. By July, all the reviews were completed. I made all the changes necessary but I was still waiting on publishing houses to send me notice. It takes weeks and/or months to receive a letter. Most publishers won’t allow you to submit to multiple publishers at the same time so it was a long wait to hear back and then submit again to someone else who has a completely different set or requirements for submissions.

Again, rejection after rejection came in. It was hard to see the “we’re unable to accept your work at this time,” but that’s about all you get in terms of feedback. I had to remember that this was not a rejection of my work on a personal level. At least, that’s what I had to tell myself since they don’t give you anything substantial.

My motivation reignited when I received a letter from the censor from the Archdiocese of Denver. I was in shock. The book I thought had gone nowhere was receiving an Imprimatur! Just before Thanksgiving, the Imprimatur arrived in the mail. Praise be to God!

The biggest reason I wanted the book published by a publisher wasn’t so it would sit on a book shelf, it was because I wanted the book to be easily ordered in bulk by a parish. This will now be my focus; getting the book on the shelves of parishes. I have a plan and will execute it but I have to publish this work first.

I just received my final rejection notice so my goal this week is to finish the cover art and layout of the interior of the book. The book will then be officially published on Ash Wednesday, February 22, 2023! My first book, All That is Seen and Unseen; A Journey Through a First Trimester Miscarriage, was also published on February 22nd.

Interestingly enough, the date my Imprimatur was written, was on the Feast Day of the Dedication of SS. Peter and Paul and the feast day for the publishing day is the Chair of St. Peter! St. Peter, Pray for Us!

She Would be 11 Today!

November 23, 2021 / / 0 Comments

It’s hard to believe I would have an 11 year old right now. A girl, approaching her teen years but I know if she was born, I likely wouldn’t have my other children. I think of her often still. I think about what she would be like and the things we would be doing together. Sometimes I think about the things we have missed but I try hard not to focus on that much.

The picture of my dead baby, which the doctors did not want me to have.

She had a purpose and she fulfilled it regardless of how tiny she was. Her life and death inspired so much in me. I wrote a book about her and her loss that has helped so many people. God can use everything for good and while I know her little life wasn’t what it was just so I could write a book, even the tiniest of babies not born can serve purpose.

I also began my bereavement ministry and supported other families through their own losses. In that process, I learned so much. I learned things that I didn’t want to know and things that were horrific that I didn’t know were actually a thing (like NICU nurses wanting to kill babies by stopping life support while their parents weren’t in the room), but I also learned so many good and amazing things like options that bring comfort and met people who really do care about miscarriage and stillbirth.

Ruby Josephine meant more than just the book, the websites and the services. She was my first daughter, a sibling desperately desired and loved, she’s present in our home in many ways, and will never be forgotten by us. Hopefully, the experience we had changed the way doctors do things when women experience pregnancy loss and I hope that her legacy continues even if I can’t provide bereavement services right now.

I just wanted to say, “Happy Birthday” Ruby. We love you!

Miscarriage and Stillbirth – A Daily Occurrence

November 1, 2021 / / 0 Comments

Yesterday I received a phone call from a grieving mother who had a miscarriage at about 16 weeks of pregnancy. She was calling because she had no money and didn’t want her baby to be sitting in a cold fridge at the coroner’s office. She was desperate to find a final resting place for her child.

She was desiring cremation but as she had been told, cremation at that stage would yield little to no ashes and she wanted something tangible. COVID has made it much more difficult for bereavement services and support in facilities. Many families have endured more suffering than needed and miscarriage and stillbirth rates have skyrocketed since the COVID-19 pandemic. I was blessed that this woman reached out for assistance, because I had resources for her. Free resources.

I talked with this woman about what her desires were and she settled on a resting place at Mt. Olivet. It’s free and she can still have her baby cremated if she wants or the baby could be laid to rest in a communal grave and a grave marker could be purchased. She would be able to visit her child’s grave and that was comforting to her. It’s also possible for her to receive a portion of the wood that the casket was made of. The white cross below was made from the casket that our Augustus Jude was laid to rest in.

I got the little wood box from Hobby Lobby and placed all the ultrasound pictures inside, cards from friends, flowers, and any other items that remind me of Gus. I open the box occasionally but it sits in our living room for all to see. He is a part of our lives and our children know who Gus is. Gus would be six this year. Ruby would be 11.

Catholics experiencing miscarriage and still birth should be aware that their child’s remains should be placed in a cemetery and not made into jewelry, placed in a pot, or have their ashes spread. This is one of the main reasons I am working on my next book A Catholic’s Guide to Miscarriage (expected release 2022). I really want you to believe that your child was worth something and has dignity and therefore should be treated with dignity.

The dignity of the human person is hard to come by these days. Society screams that we should all be loved and treated with love but when it comes down to true human dignity, it’s not understood. We believe that death to someone who won’t live a “normal” life (what is a normal life anyway) or who doesn’t look “right” (what is right anyway) or who won’t amount to anything is an act of mercy or charity.

The old should die because they lived their life and consume resources (yes, this is thought among many…FYI: you will be old one day). The disabled baby should be killed in the womb. When we lack respect for the differences in humans and lack understanding of the true dignity of the human person, how can anyone who has a miscarriage or stillbirth receive the care and validation they deserve for the loss of their child?

It’s what so many who experience this devastating loss seek. They want someone to know their baby lived, even if it was for a moment, one breath, or one kick in their womb. They need others to know they loved someone they didn’t get a chance to know. They need others to feel their loss and have empathy.

But it’s getting harder to receive because of the Culture of Death. The genocide that the world wants under the guise of Climate Change (aka population control/genocide). Not all my posts are political or religious even though that’s a focus these days but you must see that this is happening. I too have been told I have too many children and shouldn’t have more because the world is overpopulated. How does that make the loss of my two children any better? Yes, thank God they died because the world is overpopulated…that helps!

We lose babies every day. Someone needs love and empathy for that loss every day. When we see the dignity in EVERY human person, only then will we be able to provide the empathy the person is seeking.

Today is All Souls Day…visit the cemetery and pray. There are babies there. You’ll find them if you look. Pray for their grieving parents. Pray they meet again one day. Pray for the Holy Souls!

I Still Miss You

April 14, 2019 / / 0 Comments

Nine years ago on Palm Sunday, I prayed a rosary for you with your daddy in the pews following Mass. We had never really prayed together before and certainly not at the church.

As we prayed, I felt that the prayers would lead to nothing. I was desperately trying to save you and it was likely the last ditch effort/appeal to pray to our Blessed Mother for you to stay within my womb and grow. Nine years ago!

Today is Palm Sunday, and as I adorn myself in red to symbolize Christ’s Passion, I can think only of the blood that poured out of my womb during your loss. We are friends with the people who sit in the spot where we prayed for you. We use to sit in that spot every Sunday until they began sitting there. It was a reminder, as if somehow, we were close to you.

This was probably the first Palm Sunday where I didn’t “think” of you before and during Mass. Obviously, I am thinking about you now and all that took place. I prayed for the bleeding to stop on Palm Sunday and it did. The next day, Monday, was blood free but Tuesday, well…Tuesday would change my life. Tuesday, April 14th, and it all changed.

Today is April 14th, so nine years ago, on April 14th, I felt your presence leave my body. I still wasn’t bleeding but you died. You died near 4pm that day. I distinctly remember it. I was in my kitchen and I felt a warmness come over me and your spirit flowed throughout my body, up through my head, and out. It was so distinct and I just knew you left me.

I called a friend immediately exclaiming you were gone and what had just transpired. She was hopeful. She told me I was probably wrong and just anxious but I knew. I knew with every fiber of my being you were gone, so I after I talked with my friend, I called the doctor.

I needed confirmation. I called and asked to push up my ultrasound that was scheduled for April 16th. They offered for me to come in the next day, Wednesday. I didn’t sleep all night. I was on the internet researching miscarriage and the next day, I went in.

The odd thing was, Joey was home that morning. He was six years old and wasn’t feeling well so he went with us to our appointment. While there, he began throwing up. I remember looking at the ultrasound screen briefly as they tried to find your heartbeat, knowing they wouldn’t. I felt sick.

He was there when the doctor told us you were dead. I don’t think he was sick, I think he knew what was happening. The nurses watched him for us so we could mourn. I wanted to have you removed immediately but they wouldn’t. We would have to wait.

At the time, it was horrible waiting. I was offered nothing for my anxiety and inability to sleep. I just had to suffer. I couldn’t live with a dead baby inside me. It was horrific. There was just something strange about having a corpse in my womb. It seemed like no one cared and no one understood.

A corpse…was in my womb!

I can’t believe it’s been nine years. It’s hard to imagine what life would be like if you had survived. I am sorry that I didn’t try harder. I don’t know if it would have changed the outcome but there was more I could do. I know now but it’s too late. I will continue to pray for you and I hope to be reunited with you in the end.

My love…Ruby Josephine.

Dear Self Magazine: Change on Miscarriage Starts With You

August 13, 2016 / / 0 Comments

Self Magazine published an article on August 5, 2016 entitled When You’re Having a Miscarriage but Have to Work Anyway, by Zahra Barnes. This article helps bring to light many of the pressing issues women who miscarry face such has social stigmas and having to work through a miscarriage. Many women don’t realize that miscarriage can be covered under FMLA as a serious complication from pregnancy or a serious medical condition. Learn more about FMLA for miscarriage here.

There are many good things about the article which focuses on the miscarriage experiences of Ashley Frangipane (Halsey), who suffered a miscarriage while on tour in 2015 and took narcotic pain killers while wearing an adult diaper while at her work venue. No time to have her miscarriage in the comforts of home or safety of a medical facility, if she stopped working it could have been detrimental to her career. This is an issue many women face.

1 in 4 pregnancies end in miscarriage; roughly 10-25% of recognized pregnancies. The statistics are frightening because most women don’t realize how common miscarriage is until they have one. Women are typically silent about their miscarriages due to cultural taboo on talking about miscarriage. The social stigma is that miscarriage isn’t a big deal and when women do feel different than the stigma of the norm, there is shame in those feelings. Women become silent and suffer in that silence.

When famous women come out to share their experiences of miscarriage, the media reports for them. This helps women not feel so alone and that is very needed. It sheds light on the millions of women experiencing pregnancy loss around the world. Articles such as the Self article can be helpful but there is a hidden message in the article Self wrote. I will tell you what that is.

At the end of the article, the author calls for change in the beginning of her final statement when she writes: “Although it will take some time for cultural attitudes about miscarriage to shift…” But instead of helping to change that stigma, the author actually furthered a common misconception about miscarriage, that it’s “like a heavy period.” The author interviewed Dr. Sherry Ross, an OBGYN who stated that miscarriage will evolve into something like “the heaviest period you’ve ever experienced.”

I wonder if this doctor has talked with her patients or better yet, been there while her patients experience miscarriage. A majority of them would likely not describe miscarriage this way, especially if they held their very tiny baby. As a woman who experienced miscarriage twice, I can attest and confirm that miscarriage is nothing like a heavy period. In fact, I suffered through horrible periods associated with PCOS and hormonal imbalances for a majority of my life and I would take that experience over the labor pains I had with my miscarriages.

Another OBGYN, a male I might add, describes miscarriage to women as “hell.” He then explains that miscarriage can be “really heavy bleeding, really heavy cramping, and generally feeling really beaten up.” Before I discovered that Dr. Jacques Moritz was male, I made an assumption that this doctor had a personal experience with miscarriage and maybe his partner had one but he still minimizes the miscarriage experience. The statements by these OBGYN’s further trick women into believing that miscarriage is “no big deal,” “not a serious medical event,” can be experienced at home or work with little complication, and that miscarriage, “is like a heavy period.”

Doctors and Miscarriage

My book “It’s Not ‘Just’ a Heavy Period; The Miscarriage Handbook” shares with you how miscarriage is not a heavy period. It’s rarely experienced that way, yet women are told by their doctors that they will bleed like a heavy period and receive little to nothing more. Nothing to help with the pain that shocks them out of their sleep, nothing to catch their baby or remains in, and no real guidance on warning signs. Women are left to go through this experience alone and uninformed. I often wonder how doctors truly understand the miscarriage experiences of their patients when the majority of women are never seen and their pleas for help and guidance are ignored.

The article wasn’t all bad. I know I focused solely on the statements by these OBGYN’s but when Self Magazine calls for change, they should help create that change by interviewing proper professionals or women who have experienced miscarriage. One statement of particular note was when Penelope Trunk talked about how some women might prefer to go back to work immediately and that “there are basically no wrong choices here.”

This is a very true statement and women need to hear this. While some women couldn’t imagine going to work during a miscarriage, there are others who may prefer to go back to work and neither is wrong. Women who don’t feel they can go to work need to be empowered with information on how to manage that, such as through FMLA. Statements like the ones made by medical professionals, minimize the experiences of miscarriage by the majority of women. Because they are medical professionals, society places more trust in their words than in the words of the women who experience miscarriage.

So Self Magazine, if you want change for women; help make that change happen for women.

On this day, May 11

May 17, 2016 / / 0 Comments

Memory Box for Miscarriage - Erika Zane PhotographyLast year, he was born on May 11. Silent and still on the ultrasound just days before, we knew his birth was inevitable. It was devastating. Our 4th and thought-to-be last child, gone so quickly. We were so excited to be pregnant with him, naturally and at our age. It was a miracle. But he was not to be. He was not to live on this earth, just a saint in heaven.

That’s what today represents for me. It’s Augustus’s (AKA Gus) anniversary. Today doesn’t feel much different, other than I know how I was last year and all I was enduring physically and emotionally. I think today feels mostly normal because Gus is in my life every day. The entire family talks about him and shares about him.  His candle sits on our table next to Ruby’s and his memory box (which you see to the left) is in our dining room.

Facebook has a timeline memory feature that can be so very cruel when it reminds you of events such as miscarriage, stillbirth or any loss really. When you least expect it, a memory appears. On May 11, 2015, I didn’t post anything about delivering Gus. I was very quiet about that particular day. So I imagine tomorrow my memory reminder will show information about our loss.

I was specifically quiet on Facebook that day. I needed one more day of the world thinking I was pregnant. One more day of me feeling like I was pregnant even though my body had birthed already our baby. So instead of a sad memory appearing in my Facebook Memory Timeline, I saw a post from May 11, 2011.

It was a simple post:

I actually helped save a life today and the person is extremely thankful. I feel amazed to be a part of his life.

It was a chilly morning that day; cloudy and rainy. I was managing the security department at my local hospital that day when I received a call there was a “crazy man” rolling around in the grass in the front of the hospital. Me and another officer went out looking for him. I ran out without a coat, as did my partner. Neither of us could find him and if I recall, my partner returned to the building to get his coat.

I found a man inside a car near the grass. He was hanging out his door but trying to start the car. He was wet and looked disheveled. I asked him if he needed help and he said he was trying to start his car but his speech was slurred. He didn’t look like he felt alright so I asked him to get out of his car and come in to be checked out.

He complied fairly easily but he seemed confused. As he stood up, I realized he was wearing only one slipper. He was also a very large man. Most likely 280lbs and about 6’5″. This was not a man I wanted to fight with but that was what was about to happen.

As I talked with him, he kept walking away. He would stumble as he walked towards the grass. I kept asking him questions but his speech was jumbling and he wasn’t making much sense. When I placed my hand on his elbow to try to direct him, he pulled away and then turned towards me and got in my face. He became aggressive. I contacted dispatch to call 911.

As I attempted to hold him off from hurting me, my partner arrived…just in time. He himself was big and burly and could stand up to him. We both were holding him back and trying to get him to calm down and just talk to us. Finally, I yelled at him, “WHAT’S YOUR NAME?”

He looked blankly at me. He stopped fighting and just looked off in the distance as if he was scared because he could not form the words. I then called 911 and told them to send rescue. This man was having a medical issue. He was not drunk, he just couldn’t be. Something else was going on with him.

As I hung up, I could hear sirens. The police quickly arrived and helped us to get him under control and into custody. The ambulance arrived and assisted him into the truck and drove him to the emergency room. When he arrived, his blood sugar was 22 and it was dropping. Due to the cold temperature, his body was burning off more and more sugar and he was close to having a seizure or entering into a coma.

The hospital administered sugar and instantly this man came back to life. He was such a gentleman and apologized. He explained that he had just seen his doctor and was heading back to his house in the mountains but when he got into his car, he blacked out. He didn’t remember any of what had taken place. He was grateful we found him. He was admitted to the hospital for over a month and I visited him nearly every day I worked. He was such a pleasure and I wished him the best.

I hope he is still alive and well today. I know he had many medical issues that needed to be addressed. I remember that day like it was yesterday. Just like I remember Gus’s birth like it was yesterday. With Gus, the medical staff treated me kindly and were so empathetic to my situation. My husband was there and was so loving and supportive. It was a sad day but we made the best of it.

So today, I want to remember the life I helped save instead of feeling sad about Gus. I feel sad about Gus often, wishing he was here yet accepting that he is not and that I was chosen to carry him…even if for a short while.

If you have experienced a pregnancy loss and had talked about your pregnancy on Facebook, maybe even announced a pregnancy on Facebook, I recommend turning off Facebook memories. I researched “How to turn off Facebook Memories” and found the answer. Visit your newsfeed or “home page.” On the left side of the screen, scroll down to “Apps.” It will be the section under “Friends” but before “Interests,” at least that’s how it was on my screen.

You will find something called “On this day.” Click on that and you can make changes or turn off the notifications. I hope this helps and alleviates some of the cruel reminders that Facebook will notify you of.

They lost a child for goodness sake!

May 10, 2016 / / 0 Comments

It isn’t called a miscarriage, it’s called a stillbirth. They lost a child for goodness sake.

Miscarriage vs. Stillbirth

This is a very interesting statement and it implies that a woman experiencing a miscarriage, did not lose a child. If she didn’t lose a child, what DID she lose?

For me, the moment I discovered I was pregnant, I believed I was pregnant with a baby. Some do not believe this and that may be the right choice for them but if anyone called my baby an embryo or fetus, that was offensive to me. Because of this, when my baby died, I felt I had lost a child. There was so much our family lost when both Ruby and Gus died.

I recently attended a workgroup in Houston, Texas where we discussed how to effectively manage miscarriage in the emergency department. This is an area I am working hard to change because many women are sent away from the emergency department with little to no support or options.

While at the workshop, important leaders within the medical community met with leaders in perinatal loss which included members of PLIDA. We talked for four hours about what we can do to best assist families through miscarriage and we came up with some great ideas, but I left sad. The reason was because one major thing needed to change or none of what was presented would change either. That was the language that was used.

Spontaneous abortion/miscarriage, products of conception, embryo/fetus, baby/child, etc. While these words were used, I watch the faces of the medical professionals when someone referred to their “products of conception” as a baby. They cringed. And one woman called her baby a fetus but when a doctor heard the gestation of the baby, she became upset that fetus was used because the term embryo should have been used instead.

Even though we discussed language was a big factor in how miscarriage should be managed within an emergency department, if the medical professionals don’t want to change their language to what the family is using, our efforts will be fruitless. This will certainly be a challenge.

So let’s talk about the comments in the thread of the picture above. This was in response to a woman whose baby had passed away near term. I remember the story and the person is a celebrity. The news reported the loss as a miscarriage; however, the term was incorrect and in fact, the baby was near full-term which is a stillbirth.

But that first comment is one of the stigma’s surrounding miscarriage and can make women confused about whether or not they have a right to grieve. If society does not accept that a miscarried embryo/fetus is not a child/baby, then what it is and is it acceptable for a woman to grieve that loss?

The thoughts and prayers are certainly wonderful but the responses above are really trying to compare miscarriage and stillbirth. Comparing loss serves no one.

 

 

 

What to Consider if you’re Experiencing a Miscarriage

February 23, 2016 / / 0 Comments

This article originally appeared at The Mighty on January 28, 2016.

1 in 4 women will experience a miscarriage. Most commonly, miscarriage occurs in the first trimester; however, miscarriage can occur up to 20 weeks. After 20 weeks, a pregnancy loss is called a stillbirth, which occurs in 1 in 160 pregnancies. Women are often left to navigate their miscarriage on their own or with minimal support. Here are 18 points to consider during your miscarriage.

  1. I need to decide on my plan for my miscarriage. It is okay no matter what I choose because I have researched my options and trust my intuition. I know what is right for my body, for me mentally, and for my family.
  2. Researching my options is important. I can read about miscarriage options or download the Miscarriage App. I realize that I don’t know everything there is about miscarriage and my care provider may not be aware of all the options available to me.
  3. I should discuss this plan with my partner and family (if age appropriate). I know that checking in with them is important so they can share what may be important to them during this difficult time.
  4. I should seek spiritual/religious guidance; just to be sure I have taken care of any spiritual/religious needs or requirements of which I am not aware.
  5. I will need a plan for my baby’s body. No matter how early this pregnancy was, I still need to decide what I want to do with their body or remains. It’s okay to flush if that’s what feels right but I can also place my baby in a storage container and put it in the refrigerator until I have found the perfect option.
  6. I know I must begin the experience of miscarriage. If I have chosen medical or surgical management for my miscarriage, I know when things will likely start and end but if I have chosen for things to start on their own, I need to be patient with myself as my body prepares in its own way for this experience.
  7. It’s okay if I feel relief. This is normal and many women feel this way. This doesn’t mean I didn’t love my baby or pregnancy, it’s just relief that this part is finally over and I can begin to move forward again.
  8. I should plan for my physical and emotional recovery. I will need pads, tissues, and time off. I should write down a list of tasks which feel hard for me to complete like meals, doing dishes, walking the dog, and time alone to grieve. I know these are important to me but they feel overwhelming and I need someone to take these tasks on for a while.
  9. It’s okay to need help from others; many women do and it doesn’t matter how early or late the loss was. Support is crucial.
  10. I will allow myself to accept help from others.
  11. I may need to explore outlets for my grief such as writing in a journal, listening to or creating music, crafting, volunteering for a pregnancy loss organization, pumping and donating my baby’s breastmilk, or other healthy outlets.

    You'e gone (Miscarriage)

  12. I will have moments and days where I don’t feel sad. It’s okay that I don’t feel sad all the time. This doesn’t mean my loss doesn’t matter. This also doesn’t mean that when I am really sad after a period of being okay, that I am depressed and need to be saved. I am just having a hard day or moment. Grief has no timeline and doesn’t look the same for each person.
  13. Even though my husband, partner, or children seem to be “normal” or look like this loss doesn’t matter, that doesn’t mean they don’t care and aren’t sad. They have a different way of navigating through their grief. Their way doesn’t have to be my way.
  14. When I feel upset about the way my husband or partner is responding to our loss, I will communicate with them. I will share how I feel, as best I can, so that we can talk openly about our loss.
  15. People will make hurtful comments believing they are helpful. I do not have to be “fake” and smile at these comments, I can choose to say something if I feel the need.
  16. I may lose some friends. It can be really hard or very easy to walk away from them but I need to do what’s best for me and that’s okay. I do not have to hang on to friends who are toxic to me.
  17. I will gain new friends. Some of these friends will become friends for life. Others will be here for moments and that’s okay. These new friends do not have to be friends for life.
  18. I will survive this. Life may look very different and that’s okay. I am different. It’s okay to let others know that I am different.

Miscarriage Series – The Due Date

December 7, 2015 / / 0 Comments

Last night we couldn’t sleep. Hubby and I stayed up most of the night watching episodes of Grey’s Anatomy. We needed something restful and something to pass the time. Sleep was just not finding us. We both felt that we couldn’t sleep because we were “laboring.” Our due date was tomorrow. The due date our entire family was looking forward to. A due date, that would come and go with no reward. There would be no crying baby.

I had been cranky most of the day. The week leading up to today was filled with an emotional roller coaster. I learned of many friends who had become pregnant which furthered my grief. Learning about some pregnancies, felt like a stab into my heart. Then there were the ill wishes for some of these announcements. It was such an icky feeling and I know I shouldn’t feel that way, but I did.

Teaching students over the last few months has also been hard. So many of them were due on the same day and I had to stand there, seeing them with their glorious bellies filled with living babies they would birth. They were carrying life and all I could carry was death. My womb being silent since May. I was relieved that with my last classes they were all due in January or February. I no longer had to be reminded of what I had lost.

When we finally decided to lay in bed, I cried. I was on the verge of a breakdown when hubby finally nestled in bed next to me. I was wearing an old shirt. A shirt that he gave me and I have worn for the past 18 years. A shirt that is nearly falling apart but I love it because wore that shirt during all four of my pregnancies. I remember hubby took a picture of me in that shirt just a few days before I gave birth to my first child. The shirt is so large, it could accommodate my full-term belly.

Pregnant

I asked hubby to rub my back to help me fall asleep. As he did, he said, “I need to buy you a new shirt.” Then I wept. Through my tears I said, “But I love this shirt.” He was unprepared for my cries. He rubbed my back harder and said, “It’s okay. Why are you crying?”

I couldn’t form the words.

I knew that if I had continued, he would most likely figure it out. So I was silent, except for my cries. All I could think about was how I would not be bringing home a baby tomorrow. I imagined the co-sleeping being attached to my bed and lovingly watching my sleeping baby. It was too painful knowing I would likely never experience that again.

It took hours for me to finally find sleep only to be awakened early. We were going to visit Gus’s grave for the first time today. The entire family managed to make it in the car in time to get Joey to school. After dropping Joey off, I asked to stop by the store. I wanted to pick up a few things we could leave at Gus’s grave. My stomach was also very upset. It was gurgling and I was having intestinal cramps. I assumed it was my body, being in “labor.”

At the store, I couldn’t find what I was looking for. I was hoping to find a few blue carnations and a small plastic truck. I settled on a small balloon that said, “It’s a Boy!” and found a metal police tow truck. I knew Timmy would want it but I also knew that when I explained that this was Gus’s truck, he would be fine with leaving it.

When we arrived at Mt. Olivet, we found the grave site easily. I had been there many times before but never to visit my own child. I was comforted to see that there were other names on the grave marker.

Augustus Jude Petrucelli

Timmy played with Gus’s truck and balloon. I snapped a few pictures. We even grabbed tissue paper and a crayon to capture his marker.

Augustus Jude Petrucelli

Hubby cried. I was surprised I didn’t. Maybe it was because I had been there so many times? Maybe it was because I cried so hard last night? Or maybe, I was just apathetic to the situation? I just held him. It was all I could do.

Timmy was a good distraction. He ran around the graves checking out the toys and balloons around all the other graves. The other graves looked so beautiful as well. We looked at some of the other names on the markers and noticed a few that we remembered at the candlelight vigil this year. I took comfort in that as well.

It’s hard to believe his due date is here. It’s even harder to believe that he is not here with us. This would be his first Christmas. I would wear him. I promised him that I would wear him more than I wore Timmy. I promised him that he would be within arm’s reach every night, that I wouldn’t let him cry-it-out, that I would respond to him quickly, nourish him with my breasts, and adore having him as my final child.

Now I am left with an empty womb. A womb that will likely never carry another child; breasts that will likely never nourish another child, and a home that will likely never be filled with the happy squeals from my tiny infant. Silence returns. Of course, the house is not silent. It is filled with the laughter of a toddler and conversation with his older brother but in a sense, it is devoid of the presence we were expecting.

We love you Augustus. We gave you a strong name. We know we will see you again. I pray for it. I pray to see you in my dreams. I beg you to show me your face in my dreams.

Augustus Jude Petrucelli

The Miscarriage Due Date

November 30, 2015 / / 1 Comment

Gus' Last UltrasoundI have been thinking about you so much lately. Right now, my belly would be ripe and we would be prepared for your arrival. Your due date is only a few days away. Joey was born a few weeks early and Timmy came on his due date so we would have either had you by now or you would be arriving any moment. It’s really hard to believe that you are gone and won’t be joining us this Christmas.

We were so excited to know you were created. God gave us your life and we are blessed for it. I carried you as long as I could, your whole intended life. You were our special creation and meant to be our last child but now that you were not meant to be born alive, we don’t know what to do. We seem a bit lost and go back and forth on whether or not we should have another child.

This is no different than the planning we went through with you and for Timmy for that matter. I know that if I were younger or my life had been different, we would have more children. In mass today, Father Ed talked about life and how we should be fruitful. I know that he wasn’t just referring to children but that is the most common definition of fruitful (be fruitful and multiply. – Genesis 1:28).

I sat between two families today who had small babies. They both had 1 year old boys and an older child. As I watched the two children within the families interact, I began to imagine you. The age difference between the children was about the different you and Timmy would have been. I would have two little ones. Two boys competing for my lap at church. I became sad.

Over the month, I had decided that another child really shouldn’t be in our future. We are approaching an age where it’s probably not fair to that child but when a mother walked down the aisle today with her newborn in her arms my heart just ached. Ached so deeply knowing that I won’t have that. I imagined holding you, carrying you in the Boba, nourishing you, sleepless nights, your crib in our room, and doing things more effectively than with Timmy.

Most of all, I would make sure we didn’t try cry-it-out with you and damage you like we did Timmy. I hurt over that and we only tried it a few times but those few times did the damage as well as keeping him in his own room when I know all he wanted was to be with us. There is so much guilt there.

But I can’t stop thinking about you and what we are missing here on earth. I know I will see you, we will see you, but it still hurts that you are not going to be here with us. We don’t get to kiss you, say hello, see your smile, or watch you grow. Instead, the last six months have been filled with “what-if’s” and “I would be’s” as we wait for your due date.

The due date that will come with nothing to show of it. The due date that seemed so far away yet is now upon us. The due date that needs to come so I can move forward; so I can know that it has come and gone and never will be again. I haven’t been stuck the last six months. I am sad every now and then but these last few days and the coming days, are filled with a deep sadness over your loss and all that we continue to lose because you died.

On Monday, December 7th, daddy and I will make the journey to your gravesite. We will release a balloon and say a prayer. We will probably leave a small toy for you but this won’t bring us what we prayed for. Visiting your grave will not bring you into our arms or make you feel my embrace. It will bring us a small feeling of peace, knowing you are with the Lord and will never experience pain, fear, or evil.

My little Augustus Jude, I love you. I love you so much and I miss you. I miss all you were going to become. I want to see you. Please come to me in my dreams. Please let me see you and know what you would have looked like. I can see Ruby but I can’t see you and I really want to .

You are my son. You are mine. ‘Till we meet…

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