Sunday, March 30, 2008

Acknowledgment

Feeling Quiet
Hearing Silence

After a miscarriage the doctors and/or hospital staff can be very dismissive.

Miscarriage is so common in the medical community that they become a little detached and cold.

I realize I am generalizing greatly but I have read over and over how badly a doctor or a nurse or someone in the ER made a mom who just lost a baby to miscarriage feel.

In this aspect, I have been greatly blessed with caring medical personnel. My doctor is phenomenal and the people in ultrasound and the ER at the hospital where kind, patient and sensitive to my pain.

The hospital where I had both D&C’s has a wonderful program for patients who have a miscarriage at their facility. Both times when I was in recovery there was a little note and a small quilt by my bedside.

This is the one I received after my first miscarriage.
Isn't it beautiful?



This is the one I received last week. You can't really tell from the picture but some of the fabric is sparkly. It looks amazing!




This was on the back of both quilts.

A volunteer group meets at the hospital once a month and makes these quilts. I do not know who first started this program but I think they are wonderful!

When you have a D&C (or a miscarriage in general) it is always so sad to leave the hospital empty handed.

It was such a comfort to leave the hospital (both times) with a little tangible remembrance of my lost angel.

Hubby and I talked about this a lot last night and we are going to send a thank you note and a donation for materials to this group. I know for them, making the quilts is something they do for fellowship and for fun but for us it gave a little validation to our loss.

With a miscarriage you have very little to memorialize your baby. We were lucky to have an ultrasound picture but this small gesture from the hospital gave us something else concrete.

Most importantly someone acknowledged our loss.

A Poem by Gary Winters to "Little One"

We had wanted you for so very long,
Or so it must have seemed at times.
Now we know we'll have forever,
To keep you in our minds.

On that joyful day when we learned
That you were on your way,
We opened our home and hearts,
And planned for a permanent stay.

We never saw your smile.
We never held your hand.
You never had your birthday.
How can we understand?

To hear you laugh, to dry your tear
To share your life each day
To see the wonder in your eyes
As you find your rightful way.

We're told we should forget you,
"You'll have another some day."
Don't they see the pain we feel,
Is bruised by what they say?

We never saw your smile.
We never held your hand.
You never had your birthday.
Someday we'll understand.