“Walking With You” was created by Kelly at The Beauty of Sufficient Grace to help support those who have lost a child.
Together we share our stories, helpful information, scriptures, encouraging words, prayer requests, and more. To learn more and/or to join, please visit Walking with You.
The First Steps
…it is certain that there was a day, a moment when your world changed. There was a loss of innocence that day – the innocence we have before we know that the unthinkable can actually happen. A complete change in perspective.
Threatened Miscarriage and Pregnancy Tissue
I started cramping and spotting just a few days after the positive pregnancy test. I called the hospital after a couple days, and they scheduled a ultrasound and blood tests. I was able to see my tiny, tiny baby, but I was two weeks off (based on my last period), and not far enough along to detect the heartbeat. The doctor told me I could be having a miscarriage, come back in a week.
A few days later, I called to follow up on my blood tests. The nurse said it looked good, that my levels doubled. (It was like exhaling relief.) But then she took it back. (Then having your breath slammed to a stop with a forceful palm.) They hadn’t quite doubled.
The next week came, and we saw our little one’s heartbeat flickering like a firefly on the monitor before us. We were given a picture to take home. I thought we were okay. But before we left, the doctor stopped us to say that the ultrasound technician found the gestational sac was shaped abnormally. So we had to come back again in two weeks, which fell on Christmas Eve.
The following week was my first prenatal appointment. I liked the midwife right away. She was very sweet and nurturing, and continued to be a source of comfort even after we lost Calvin. She started examining me, mentioned she could see the spotting. Then, “I see what looks like pregnancy tissue at the opening of your cervix.” Panic. She tried to reassure us, saying that sometimes she sees this and everything turns out fine, but doesn’t want us to wait until the next week for our ultrasound (which was scheduled on Christmas Eve). went to speak with the receptionist to get us a same-day, emergency ultrasound. She left the room, and I fell apart in Louie’s arms. Together, we cried for our baby, silently beseeching God to let our child live. As we waited, I told him that if we lost this baby, I wasn’t sure if I could go through another pregnancy and risk another painful loss.
We didn’t lost our baby then. His little heartbeat was fine. The developmental measurements were right on track. And the next week, on December 23rd, I received a call congratulating me, and telling me the pregnancy was “viable.” It wasn’t until the end of January that I would learn about Amniotic Band Syndrome.
But ultimately, it was during these first few weeks that I first tasted the pain of losing Calvin Phoenix. As the deep aching love for him lay claim on my heart in that first month of knowing him, in that first month of motherhood, I spent week after week after week in tears and fervent prayer, waiting to learn whether my baby would live or die.
Tomorrow is the birthday of sweet Milo Henry, who passed away on January 20 of this year as a result of SIDs. His parents, Heather and Nathan, have become very dear to me and Louie, and they have made this request of their friends and family: “At 5:30pm on September 17th, we invite you to share in a moment of silence with us for Milo…wherever you are…do a meditation, say a prayer, light a candle, reflect on the positive things in your life, or what you would like to have for your life.”
If you are so moved, please lift Heather, Nathan, and Milo up in your thoughts along with us. You can visit Milo’s memorial site at: milosalomonis.org.